Allison Watari Brothel ❤️

About Nagoya

Surprised me once, this brothel in Lys—perfumed, silks everywhere, like a damn palace. Not your usual piss-soaked shack. Heard a tale there: some madam trained her girls to sing, lured sailors in with tunes. “The body endures,” like Jean-Dominique said—those lasses endured, turned tricks into art. Fuckin’ wild, innit? Thought to meself, *Cersei, you’d run this better—more wine, less stench.*

Abijah Fowler

But first, I had to grab some breakfast. Stopped by this little joint on Kiyokawa Street. They had the best tamagoyaki. I swear, I could eat that stuff all day. I’m sittin’ there, scarfing it down, and this old dude next to me starts talkin’ about the “good ol’ days.” Like, bro, I’m just tryna eat! But he’s all nostalgic about the fishing days. I’m like, “Yeah, cool, but I’m not here for a history lesson.”

Your lie in April ‒ Episode 17