The tree-lined street outside the Imperial Academy.
"Hmm? Hmm!"
Resting in the passenger seat, Chirping Cicada Stir woke up abruptly, instantly pointing a finger at Night White, who was holding a handkerchief, and harshly asked, "What are you doing!?"
Night White raised the handkerchief in his hand, "Wiping your drool."
"What drool?"
"The drool you spilled while sleeping, it just dripped onto Fatty's head a moment ago."
Chirping Cicada Stir instinctively wiped away the trace of moisture around his mouth, lowered his head to look at the obese orange cat enduring indignity and suffering thunder and rain in his arms, and angrily said through gritted teeth, "How could I possibly... drool..."
"Then what did I wipe?"
