Unfortunately, all the small streets looked the same, and soon we found ourselves in some back alleyways.
“Eto…”
I looked around us. Nothing looked familiar.
In Japan, small side street and road names were numbers and enough to confuse even taxi drivers. If I called my mom, I wouldn’t know what to tell her, and she would probably need half an hour just to find the street we were on.
I gave her a ring anyway.
I felt safer when I heard her voice.
“Okaasan?” I paused.
“I think we’re lost.”
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