Half the platform is under construction, and the other is full of commuters. It's unsettlingly quiet. No crying kids or adults yelling into phones. I tug up my shoulder bag – it's going to snap under the weight of my books, soon. I've been eying an ¥80,000 backpack in the Atré at Matsudo. It's a bit dear, but it's not like the money's mine. I start to the right, trying not to get jostled by the flow of people all heading somewhere. I glance between my phone and the ground in front of me, but I've lost signal. I should have gotten a roaming sim card, but even the trains have free Wi-Fi here. I climb the stairs and break into open air, cloying heat on my skin, thoughts on the fan tucked away in my pocket. It's only then that my phone lets me know, very helpfully; I've taken the wrong exit. I'm on the opposite side of the huge station. If I had any confidence, I would turn around and head back into the throng. But I haven't seen my mum in months, and I let the crowd carry me the wrong way.