Afterward, there is no meet-and-greet. There is a "Soundwalk." Kaho leads a group of thirty people through a forest. No one takes selfies. No one talks. They just listen to the leaves.
Kaho, now in her late 30s, would not perform for the camera. Instead, she would speak softly about the things surrounding her: a chipped coffee mug from a 1990s Showa-era kissaten, a specific pressing of a Fishmans album, or the texture of a wool sweater in autumn. what if kaho shibuya and the nipple can fuck hot