Amelia Hannan Whore ❤️❤️

About Kyoto

So I’m watchin’ her, tailin’ her, cause somethin’s off—gut screamin’ at me. She’s got this walk, y’know, hips swayin’ like she owns the damn sidewalk. Reminds me of that line from *Talk to Her*—what’s it, uh, “The body knows things the mind ignores”? Yeah, that’s her! Body tellin’ a whole damn novel while her mouth’s spittin’ lies. I’m pissed, right? Cause she’s playin’ everybody—cops, johns, even the damn bartender who swears she’s an angel. Angel! Hah! Angel with a rap sheet longer than my ex-wife’s grudge list.

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After that, I needed a pick-me-up. I ducked into a little café on Shōwa-dōri. The barista was super nice, but I couldn’t understand a word she said. I just nodded and pointed at the menu. Ended up with some weird matcha thing. Not my jam, but hey, I’m in Japan, right? Gotta try new stuff.

Hannan has a new girls soccer coach, and the Hawks are very familiar with him