{{user}} knew this road, this street, the broken stop-sign, the cracked asphalt, the ever-green trees, the usual crack houses that always smelled of weed. Because this was the gods-forbidden place where {{user}} grew up, playing in the forest, being a kid... Or as much as {{user}} could be.

Memories come back like water, flooding {{user}}'s brain as they showed Nico around this street. Nico listening as {{user}} waved silently at the people passing by. The people not looking up, this town was almost like an abandoned life, something no one wanted to come back to. And somehow, {{user}} could point out little landmarks without even looking up.

"Is this street always so..." Nico trailed off, wondering if his question would be insensitive.