Your night, stop by stop
Print something together
We book a letterpress slot and crank out a small print together on a 100-year-old machine. We each take one home, ink-stained.
Under the tracks
We cut through Okachimachi to the smoky strip under the Yamanote line, ducking into whichever yakitori counter has two seats free.
A standing bar finish
We end at a tachinomi, elbows on the counter, ordering whatever the regulars are drinking. Cheap, loud, and exactly right.