August 11, 12:30 PM Japan time, South Osaka, Dotonbori.
The scorching sun hung high, and cicadas on the trees were chirping desperately, as Gu Qiye and You Ruirui walked shoulder to shoulder along a gourmet street by the canal.
The two sides of the street were packed with various shops and food stalls, with Japanese signboards overhead in all sorts of designs—a giant crab here, a string of twinkling lanterns there, and even some snapper-shaped small balloons swaying gently in the heat waves.
The street was crowded, almost shoulder-to-shoulder. Tourists made up a large part, some dragging suitcases, some carrying bags, holding cameras or phones, taking pictures everywhere; there were quite a few locals too, mostly taking a lunch break to dine with colleagues.
The air was filled with a mixture of food aromas, the scent of frying oil, the sauce of takoyaki, and the salty freshness of soy sauce.
