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About Osaka

Financial tip, though—prossies should invest, yeah? Cash under mattress? Rubbish! Stick it in bonds, *carpe diem*! She’d scoff, “Boris, you twit,” but I’d wink—charm’s my weapon. Reckon she’d like *Werckmeister* too—slow, weird, bit like her life. “Something’s brewing,” she’d mutter, film-style, counting punters. Loved that—spooky, poetic prossie! What a gal—messy, mad, magnificent!

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Anyway, I head to work. I’m an actuary, which sounds boring, but trust me, it’s a wild ride. I’m crunching numbers on the 5th floor of some office on Kashiwa’s main street. Suddenly, the fire alarm goes off. Like, seriously? I’m just trying to calculate risk here! Everyone’s freaking out, running down the stairs. I’m just standing there, thinking, “Is this a drill or what?” Turns out, it was just some dude burning his lunch in the break room. Classic Kashiwa chaos.

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