A little about me and Japan: Part 1- Aiko


We first met in Spring, 2003. I was riding my mamachari around Urawa City, mainly exploring and looking for some trouble to get into, when I rode passed this hostess bar. I can’t remember the name, but standing in front were 3 girls, all kawaii to the fullest. At least I thought so then. Two of them had that Harajuku gya-ru look: tanned, sparkly, streaked hair and heavy makeup, and what not. The third one was a beauty minus the adornments and transfiguring. She was dressed in a Yukata, a light summer kimono, and her hair was pinned up revealing her lovely neck and cheeks. Not the one of them looked over 20.

As I passed, I gave them a little smile of acknowledgment, and they being business girls, gave me open, welcoming yet perfunctory cheese. I was half a block away when I heard their voices call after me. I almost crashed in my haste to acknowledge them. I turned and cruised back trying to look less eager than I felt. I had been in Japan about two months by then, and suffice it to say I was open to Japanese girls. Wide Open! So open, that I hadn’t even noticed that I was being hailed in English! Fairly good English at that. The kind of English acquired living abroad for a short time or through regular association with gai-jin.

It was the un-tanned girl that was doing the talking. I rolled beside her and she began to pitch the business. “Only 5000 yen and you can sit and drink with me!” I told her straight out she must be mad. Back in the states, we rarely pay that much without a guaranteed happy ending. She laughed out loud. “This is not America!” The banter continued, she saying that a roll in the hay, with another girl of course, not her, would cost about $5000 US, and it was my turn to laugh out loud. The ice was broken between us, and after we’d established that I was not a potential client and she was not going to be serving me for cash, the conversation shifted to something typical of what would take place between two people who are attracted to one another. She’d initially given me her stage name “Reira” but after the biz talk had ceased, she confided her name was Aiko.

“I’m a university student, studying psychology,” she said.

I wasn’t surprised, I told her. Many college students, even in the US, do similar jobs to make ends meet. “Maximizing your assets” I said and she laughed. It was so refreshing to have someone Japanese laugh at my jokes…usually they would giggle at how entertaining and unusual the foreigners were. But humor was totally missed; a cultural and language gap that for many would never be filled. But. Aiko was right there in the gap with me.  Raking up cool points. We talked until it became clear to the others standing around, including her Yakuza boss and what-not, that it wasn’t business. Before I left we exchanged text message addresses and promises to keep in touch. I rode away with such a high that I sang all the home.

Now, at the time, I was seeing this girl, Rico. She too could speak English a bit, but, to put it mildly, was too bland for me. I’d met her my first night in Japan- at a club in Roppongi, no less. We connected and a couple of days later we fornicated and for my first taste of true Asian loving, it was incredible…mentally anyway. Otherwise, it wasn’t much different than the tastes of home.  After that mental charge wore off, which took all of a month, my eyes were roving. The week after I met Aiko, I broke it off with Rico.

I met up with Aiko again that week and we went for a stroll around my neighborhood. A tree-lined path I hadn’t really explored well, lead to a park with a lake, surrounded by a path. We walked along it, in the darkness, talking. She talked about her hobby, singing.aiko-singing2 A jazz singer, at that. I was and still am a great connoisseur of jazz so we had a lot to talk about. I told about the history of jazz. She knew bits and pieces and I knew a bit more than she did. She listened with eyes that devoured my words. We also shared admiration for Chomsky and discussed some of his ideas…and movies! We both loved film. She knew director names and filmographies and what not and we could talk endlessly about them. It was well after 11pm by then, and she’d ought to have been headed home, for the last train to her home was around midnight, but she didn’t stop. Neither of us wanted to. We took a seat and sat hand-in-hand, and talked all night. I was annoyed by the bugs and she was afraid of the bats, and we were both taken aback by sounds and motion seemingly coming out of the darker places in the park, but we didn’t vacate until sunrise.

A couple of weeks later I convinced her to be my girlfriend. I didn’t know it then, but girlfriend/boyfriend selection is a bit more complicated in Japan than in the US. The thought process is very different. For me, it was just assurance that we would be having sex soon and that I would have the companionship of the most interesting person I’d met since I’d been in Japan. But, for her, well…it was absolutely crucial, for the boyfriend title is taken very, very seriously. Maybe it’s the same in the US and all these years I just hadn’t noticed, because I never took it too seriously. In my young days, it was just about sex for me. If I asked you to be my girl, it meant I wanted to fuck you. And, if we were having sex on a regular basis, without our status having been discussed, then we were just seeing each other, but I might let you tell others I’m your man and on occasion I might tell others you were my girl…of sorts. But, if I made it official, that is, actually saying the words “be my girl” it meant that I was seriously considering fucking you and only you…

Aiko and I hadn’t had sex yet when I sprung the question on her. And she resisted, put up quite a fight as I recall. I told her that I wanted to have fun, and isn’t that what being bf & gf is all about? But, though Aiko was a college student, she was 24 years old already, and in Japan, that’s approaching old maid status, so, many things had to be considered before saying yes. And she considered them all. I know! Maybe not aloud (in English anyway) but she had the kind of intelligence and mental engine that molded her face into a mask of beautiful brilliance. I hadn’t known it then, but that was when I fell in love with her. The time  period between the walk in the park and  her simply saying “yes” to me. I mean, she used language, primary language, which is the only way we could communicate initially, but my mind, my native dictionary, gave her words the depth I’m certain they would have had in her native tongue.

After she said Yes, that’s when things started getting rocky. She quit her hostess job and got a regular job and I got complacent. Unaccustomed to the amount of attention I was getting from women, I became something of a predator. I had girls lined up. At the rather late age of 38,  I was finally sowing my oats the way I never had in America. I was regressing into an almost adolescent mindset of  conquest nearly without remorse. But, Aiko, poor Aiko, was always home to me. We fought and argued as couples do, about “where were you” and “your friends are more important than me” and “Are you seeing another girl,” etc…And also about some new (to me) issues that I believe (but I could be wrong, and probably am) resulted from our totally different cultures like, “you are so rude” and “why don’t you keep your promises” and “you don’t have any respect for me or my culture,” etc…

But, otherwise, we were very good together. We had so much in common. We both wanted to travel and study. Her particular branch of psychology explored the psychological impact of cultural differences. In other words, she was fascinated, and borderline obsessed with her people’s fixation with Western Culture. She was totally disgusted by her brethren inability to see the individuality of foreigners, their tendency to overlook the gaijin’s glaring issues in favor of their unusualness in what has to be one of the most homogeneous cultures remaining in existence. She called these people “Gaijin Freaks” and she had decided to make a documentary exploring this national phenomenon. But, before she could do that, she had to explore it on a personal basis, I believe. I think that’s where I came in. Also, I told her I was writing a book about my experiences in Tokyo, comparing and contrasting the differences in culture with that of NY. She loved the idea and we decided to work together to accomplish each others goals. We bonded in this way, and so our discussions on the matter, which were often heated, were also enlightening and educational for both of us.

We went on like this for many months, seeing each other a couple of times a week, talking, fighting, loving, and learning from each other. She helped me with my Japanese and I helped her, when requested, with her English. However, most often my assistance was not sought directly. She resisted for some reason I always had  difficulty putting a finger on. Perhaps it had something to do with the stigma that girls in Japan live under…that they fuck with foreign guys in order to get free English lessons, or for their dick-size, or for some kind of status symbol (English ability and capacity to interact with foreigners being a sign of a “globalized” mentality or merely cool) or just a kind of Jungle fever, being that most foreign cultural ideas are considered at best unusual  and at worst bizarre and uncivilized by most Japanese. But, in any event,  she resisted.

At the same time, I was still notching my belt,  so to speak. I’m not exactly proud of my behavior, but I had some good times, and I was definitely in that state of mind from the time of my arrival here. Having a good time was high on my priority list. Aiko was a still a university student, working part time, and living with her parents, so I couldn’t see her whenever I wanted to. I guess I could’ve seen her more than I did, but I used her restraints to rationalize my exploits.

One day I told her, out of the blue, that I needed a break. That I had some serious concerns about our relationship, which I did, but not enough to refuse to see her the way I did. She didn’t know it at the time but it wasn’t because of her but because I had a fever blister on my mouth and I was ashamed to see her or even go to work. I don’t know why I get that way about cold sores. There shouldn’t be any shame but maybe it’s because of it’s placement on the lip, in the most conspicuous and intimate of places, making it the bane of my existence on this planet. My vanity, or my self-consciousness, projected into the minds of others…and oh how I am concerned with what other people think of me!  Once or twice a year, an outbreak occurs, and that is the source of my anguish. Depending on the size of the blister, I can either weather it or cower in my house for days, avoiding contact with all humans I know, whose judgment I worry about. I hate the power it has over me, the fear it induces in me, but I’ve  allowed it to happen for over 20 years now. How could I expose this to Aiko, I wondered. I wasn’t prepared to do that, yet. I needed more time,  I said to myself, so I went into hiding. I guess I could’ve come up with a better excuse than I need some time to think about our relationship, but I get so emotionally unwound when an outbreak occurs that I just lose it and the feelings of others take a backseat to my own. She simply couldn’t make sense of this sudden flip.

A week later my lip had healed up and I tried to resume relations with Aiko, but, as I should’ve expected, my behavior had changed her outlook on our relationship as well.  She was very much in love with me, I knew, but now she was leerier. She became much more independent. Hanging out with her friends, looking for work. She started teaching private lessons, too.  She wanted to do research to better understand foreigners, I guess, and make some extra money, so she started teaching Japanese. She placed an ad on a website frequented by ex-pats and the responses came in. One student, in particular, she began to have unusual conversations with. At the time, I thought she was losing her goddamn mind, holding lengthy, giggly conversations, in my house with this guy. I didn’t fully realize she was crying out for attention by making me jealous. I’m so blind to shit like that some times. I was utterly clueless.  Meanwhile, I was beginning to believe that I couldn’t possibly love her if I was capable of doing the things I did on the side. How can you see other women if you are in love? I wasn’t raised that way. The culture I was reared in certainly didn’t encourage that kind of behavior.

So, I broke up with her in my typically cruel fashion, the combination of jealousy and guilt propelling me,  using words like “I can’t stop you from fucking anybody. All I can do is trust that you don’t.” At the time, I didn’t think these words were particularly harsh, but she found them to be devastatingly indicative of my lack of emotional investment in our relationship. And, with a thud, we broke up. I took on another girlfriend, a girl that I had been cheating on Aiko with, one who’d shown promise as far as a future together was concerned…We began to see each other more regularly…I proceeded to try to replace Aiko with her, transfer my feelings for Aiko to this new entity. In my mind, at the time, Japanese women had become that transitive. They basically behaved the same, thought the same, felt the same, looked the same, fucked the same…I thought it didn’t matter. In other words, I was slowly dehumanizing them, again, in my efforts to rationalize my exploits. And, it worked…for about  4 weeks. During which I began to feel, see, taste, hear, and smell the difference between this other girl and Aiko. Between ALL other girls and Aiko.

Meanwhile, Aiko had taken up with some other guy, too, (the same student she had been all giggly with on the phone) and I would learn later, was experiencing something akin to what I had.  I began to communicate with her again. I wanted to be friends, I told her. What I really wanted was to feel her energy, her vitality, her gentleness and kindness, and anger, and fury, again. She was unique! So, we became friends, of sorts. We talked, and argued, especially when she talked about how happy she was with her new beau. I was jealous, I tried to subtly undermine their relationship, then soon progressing to not so subtle attempts. In my heart I wanted to stalk, to prey, to take what I believed to be mine! But, Aiko, stubborn as she was, resisted, with a calmness, a nonchalantness, that only fanned my anger. Eventually,  I gave up, at least with  the aggressive stuff. And, we really became friends. I told her “feel free to talk to me about anything, even him.” And, she did, to a certain extent. I became calm, resolute. I figured, it’s all for the best. I will probably fuck it up if we were to ever get back together anyway, I told myself.

Not two days after I came to this resolution did Aiko call me to say she missed me and that she did not feel about her boyfriend the way she felt about me, and indicated, for the first time, that she wanted to re-conciliate. I was walking back from the 7-11 when I got the call. I was half-way home, a bagful of junk food, ready to couch potato the night away, when I received her call. I stopped there in the street and we talked. I fell in love with her again that night. or maybe it just deepened a bit.

But, still, it was not love like I had known before. Maybe love is different with every person, every relationship. Or, maybe I have some serious emotional issues that make me incapable or hard-pressed to feel and behave the way I’ve been taught that you’re supposed to when you’re in love. I really don’t have the answers. All I know is that night I felt more satisfied with myself than I had in a long time. Maybe it was as simple as she had chosen me over him. Simply a victory over an adversary. Victory feels good doesn’t it? I felt great! I was perfect…I contained my glee, I didn’t beat my chest, although I felt like it, I did a little end-zone dance in my heart and mind, while I said words like “I’m glad you feel like you can come to me when you’re unhappy…that’s all I wanted.”

A couple of weeks of negotiation later, we were back together, with a renewed resolve to make it work. I cut down considerably with my philandering and focused more on studying and making money.  And we had some good times. It had been over a year since we’d met. Our routines were basic but very nice. On Saturdays, she’d meet  me at Starbucks and we’d have some coffee and talk about various things, or we’d help each other with language stuff. Or, we’d go to an izakaya and have dinner, and smoke and joke, or fight and argue, but we were together. Then, we’d go to my house and make love and talk until it was time for her to go home. Sometimes she’d stay, but most often that would cause problems at home. Arguments and fights with her parents…which she didn’t want to get into. Sometimes we’d go to the movies, or to a restaurant in Ebisu or Shinjuku or Shibuya or Omiya. She loved good food and coffee as much as I did.

I used to give her coupons when I fucked up. A coupon which entitled the bearer to something like: For one week, I will or will not do something she liked or disliked, and she loved it!  And I’d always keep the promise, conspicuously. She loved promises to be kept. She was a very simple girl on many levels. Just that she was involved with a much simpler man, me. I could never be like her father…not entirely. He was a descendant of samurai, and had what she called the Bushido spirit, which I think she had, too. My spirit is derived from my mother, which is more of a motherly, nurturing, emotional spirit. But, somehow, she was able to see and embrace the best in me. When we fought, it was her fire, her stubbornness, her pride, that borne her. She was not passive, not weak, not angelic or baby doll like, and yet she was soft, and pliable, and sweet and tender and delicate.

In the summer of 2004 she had asked me to feel something growing under her skin. It was a tumor. She went to the hospital and they tried to remove it but could only remove part of it. She spent a couple days in there and all of her friends came to see her. She was a little depressed about being in the hospital, and I spent as much time as I could with her. She had to go back and forth to the hospital throughout the summer and she’d hated it, while the doctors tried to ascertain what was causing the tumor, and whether it was malignant or not. They never did find out.

Summer 2005, a new tumor came, in her back, followed soon by a third in her leg. But, she did not want to spend another summer in the hospital, so she decided to spend it with her friends and with me. But once the summer was over, she could no longer put it off. There was pain. She called them her children, like little fetuses springing up all over body. By winter,  I had lost count. 10 or 15 tumors…she had to be hospitalized repeatedly. Test after test neither confirmed nor denied their malignancy. But the doctors treated them like malignancies and gave her anti-cancer drugs and pain medication…

February 27th 2006 Aiko passed away from complications due to these malignancies.

I loved her very much and I still miss her. She was Japan to me.me-and-aiko


More on Aiko

54 Responses to “A little about me and Japan: Part 1- Aiko”

  1. 1 Amy
    October 25, 2008 at 10:10 am

    Funny how life is, one day you’re fuming mad that you’re arguing the next wishing only she was still around to argue with. I felt your loss in this post.

  2. 2 Locohama
    October 25, 2008 at 10:34 am

    Thanks Amy…yeah, life is a trip.

  3. 3 sputnik
    October 25, 2008 at 1:43 pm

    The thing that made this post the most powerful? The pictures of Aiko. There’s a face to this narrative, but it didn’t mean anything to me until the truly sad ending. Your story is a human one and I don’t think anyone who’s read this could forget Aiko.
    I guess all we can do is 頑張ってね.

  4. 4 Cutedwogy
    October 26, 2008 at 6:06 pm

    Thank you for sharing.

  5. 5 Locohama
    October 27, 2008 at 2:23 am

    Cutedwogy, thanks for reading and replying

  6. October 27, 2008 at 6:28 am

    Thank you for telling your story. It must have been difficult to cope with Aiko’s disease for both of you… One of my friends experienced similar events, but at younger age, that significantly affected my friend’s life. I hope you can turn grief into growth.

    Over the years, I talked to many people with cancer, but it is still very sad to see young couples in such a situation.

  7. 7 Zen
    October 27, 2008 at 6:44 am

    My deep condolences. That was heart warming and sad, I never saw the ending coming. How lucky you were to have found her even for a short time. Love someone today like it is your last day, takes on a two sided meaning ne!

    Sputnik was right, seeing her pictures made it even more “real”


  8. 8 Locohama
    October 27, 2008 at 3:03 pm

    Thanks Kitsune, Zen. Yeah, Aiko was one in a billion. turning grief to growth…lovely way to put it. The world took a hit when she was taken out…this much I know

  9. October 30, 2008 at 6:41 am

    I think you may have soaked up a little of Japanese-ness in your remembrance of Aiko here. The Japanese seem to do a better job of handling bereavement and loss than we Americans do. Thanks for sharing your remembrance with us.

  10. 10 Locohama
    October 30, 2008 at 6:52 am

    Thanks senile(-: You’re probably right about the Japanese-ness

  11. 11 ItAintEazy
    October 31, 2008 at 8:19 am

    Sonofabitch. What a tale.

  12. 12 P
    November 12, 2008 at 11:56 pm

    again good writing. I replied before, but couldn’t find it. going through similar in Kansai and sometimes Tokyo with a slight twist. Felt a pang at the end as stoked up some memories. Sorry for your loss and thank you for sharing this.

  13. November 13, 2008 at 1:56 am

    sorry to hear about your loss and hope youve grieved and are recovering. i almost moved to yokohama in 2002, but moved to kobe instead. its a mini and better looking yokohama and san francisco. glad youre writing about your experiences in japan. i have written (and on the verge of publishing)a book about mine. but unlike you, im not appologetic about my whoring. excerpts of Black Passenger Yellow Cabs: Of Exile and Excess in Japan. if you check them out, its best to start frm the beginning, MAKING OF A RICE KING, posted june 25 07. let me know when youre done writing yours, maybe I could be your publisher.

  14. 14 TLR
    November 29, 2008 at 7:45 pm

    sorry for the late post on this since I just found your site I have been reading stories on the whim. All I can say is wow! amazing story it touched my heart!



  15. 15 Locohama
    December 8, 2008 at 7:21 pm

    Thanks TLR, no problem. Aiko was the best!


  16. 16 fashion
    December 9, 2008 at 4:02 pm

    Of all your posts this one is the most real to me.


    • 17 Locohama
      December 9, 2008 at 11:29 pm

      Hey Fashion! Thanks for the shout. Yeah, Aiko was totally real. But I’m sure she’s up there somewhere guiding my pen (or keyboard) in the right direction.
      She was a true friend.


  17. December 10, 2008 at 7:28 am

    My god, your post here is like a great movie with sad ending. Just like Sweet November. I couldn’t resist not to leave a reply. I too love japan. Sorry about Aiko, I’m sure she’s an angel now.

  18. 20 Keith
    December 11, 2008 at 10:32 pm

    That’s a tragic and touching story. It must have been difficult to share. Thanks for doing it.

  19. 21 Locohama
    December 14, 2008 at 1:36 am

    Hey Keith! thanks


  20. January 3, 2009 at 7:25 pm

    i was almost about to click away from this essay,jealousy, until I got to the last part! It made my eyes water. That was heavy!

  21. 24 π
    January 6, 2009 at 1:19 pm

    You know, your story is awesome, and you two were surely an incredible couple. I hope you’ll never forget all wthat Aiko teached you, and all yours beoutiful moments together.

  22. January 27, 2009 at 10:59 pm


    Wow, I don’t know what to say. Just WOW.

    I must admit when I read to the “I can’t stop you from fucking anybody…” part, I almost stopped reading. It was harsh and I thought exactly like Aiko did!

    But I’m glad I continued. I didn’t see the end coming at all. Reading this post is like finishing a good novel that will stay will you long after the last page ends. It sounds incredibly real and touching.

    You’re really an awesome writer! Thanks for sharing.


  23. 28 yamaneko
    February 9, 2009 at 9:06 pm

    Very sad but I don’t know why lovely story. I just discovered your blog and I enjoy reading it. Actually I’m like you, planning to study in Japan for one year. Well it’s very useful to me to read your feelings about your experiences. Thank you for this blog mate !

  24. 30 愛万多
    February 11, 2009 at 10:37 am

    Hmm, interesting story… I’m very sorry for your loss, but she’s not suffering anymore, atleast there’s some comfort in that.
    I too almost stopped reading..and feel hesitant to continue, but you do have depth. Atleast every other words is not a cuss word, but you sure do like those F bombs.. Though you did warn me in the intro to your blog about the adult content.. so my bad..
    Also interesting choice word of “fornicate” such a proper term, not criticizing, but surprising, because, I don’t know that many people know or use that word…ever..I mean in its proper since unless its coming from the bible.
    The way you tell this story, almost made it seem like just that, a sad Japanese drama, no offense at all meant, just that you’re a good writer w/apparently an excellent memory, that I wish I possessed…

  25. February 16, 2009 at 6:19 pm

    Powerful stuff, Loco. It’s funny to think how some guys get their hearts broken by a Japanese girl here and quickly pull up stakes and go home. You’ve been through something infinitely heavier and are still here. Respect, man.

  26. 33 Qcue
    February 24, 2009 at 10:38 am

    I remember reading this back in October or November……and I felt this was a great article. I read this before you added the extra photos in and now im back. It has to be a miracle to have been in Japan during it’s rare days. After reading what you go through on a daily bases currently causes me to have 2nd thoughts about moving to Japan. Some of your post are just plain propaganda and some are words of wisdom. I also came to realize kokujin go through what other foreigners don’t have to go through. My impression of Aiko is not beauty through my eyes but she was your treasure as far as my interpretation. This article should win a Golden Globe or Oscar. You do have thousands of viewers because so many are interested about blacks in Japan. Soon all blogs will replace paper books because the literature is more alive in my opinion. Ganbatte, jya!

  27. 35 FJ
    March 1, 2009 at 9:13 pm

    Showing that picture after it was all over was cruel. I feel for you.

  28. 36 K.Green
    May 4, 2009 at 1:19 am

    It truly is amazing how fragile and short human life regardless of race. I know somewhere she is looking to you helping to guide you today. Thank you for sharing

  29. 37 Dullmoment
    May 24, 2009 at 8:06 am

    After reading you story my first thought was Dear God.. I that was heavy story. It is something to find someone who you feel that connection with. I am glad you were able to find it. Take it easy man.

  30. 38 Stevun
    June 24, 2009 at 10:23 am

    Loco, found your blog while net surfing – very touching entry. It’s amazing how life turn out to be. It’s a powerful entry and I guess Aiko isn’t just anyone to you. Curious though, is she the only child in her family?

  31. 39 leon
    July 8, 2009 at 5:53 am

    thanks for sharing…

  32. 40 カエル
    September 2, 2009 at 8:57 am

    Wow, this is a compelling story. Did anyone ever tell you you have similar writing style as Haruki Murakami?

  33. September 10, 2009 at 12:46 pm

    Found your blog minutes ago, because i’m planning to move to Japan in the next one or two years. First of all, you’re a GREAT writter. Hope you are working as one in Japan – the talent is visible.

    And then, I found this post. Man, what a wonderful story – and sad one, at the same time. But at least she lived her last moments with the people she loved.

    I watched a j-drama last week called “1 Litre of Tears” (1 Litre no Namida). It’s a wonderful story about a girl who had a terrible decease, but always lived happy. And I remembered of it, reading your story.

    Thanks for the reading, again. Will always visit your blog!

  34. 44 MikeinKorea
    September 28, 2009 at 7:23 pm

    Wow this is so deep if I would have read this first i don’t think I would have clicked on anything else.At least she got to experience love before she left this place.

  35. January 3, 2010 at 8:51 am

    This is a very moving tribute to the memory of Aiko.

  36. January 19, 2010 at 3:09 pm

    You, sir, can really write. Thanks for making the effort to share this tale of loss. It has an undeniable aspect to it.

  37. 48 John
    January 29, 2010 at 2:32 pm

    You pretty much blew it with this young lady up front, and you were really lucky that she took you back. The fact that you kept fooling around on her even after you got back together is kind of disappointing, but I’m sure you’re much more mature in your understanding of “love” now than you were then. This beautiful memorial you wrote for Aiko is proof of that.

  38. March 6, 2010 at 12:38 pm

    What an incredible post! I’m so sorry about your loss… It’s amazing that you were able to share such a deep story.. Thank you for sharing and all the best to you!

  39. 51 William
    March 25, 2010 at 3:39 am

    I randomly found this site, read this, Sitting at my work, had nothing to do.
    Im going to Japan in April, I liked your story. I became sad that she passed away.
    You seem like a cool dude.

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  • 【ドラゴンボールZ ドッカンバトル】 最後まで盛りだくさんの6周年! 「激突×団結!6周年超絶DOKKAN謝祭」の第3弾が開催中! 6周年を余すことなく遊びつくして、豪華報酬をGETしておこう! dbz-dokkan.bngames.net #ドッカンバトル #ドラゴンボール 9 months ago
  • 【ドラゴンボールZ ドッカンバトル】 まだまだ続く6周年! 「激突×団結!6周年超絶DOKKAN謝祭」の第2弾が開催中! さらなるイベントやミッションも登場! 6周年を記念したキャンペーンを引き続きドッカンと楽しもう!… twitter.com/i/web/status/1… 10 months ago
October 2008

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