The time is 3 a.m. on July 21st, in the Tokyo Harbor District, Roppongi.
The rain was pouring down, and there were still one or two passersby walking quickly in raincoats, then ducking into a brightly lit izakaya, as if finding a safe haven, sighing in relief under the eaves.
At this moment, the Black Cocoon was hanging upside down beneath the ceiling of the izakaya, quietly observing the people around.
He was very hungry now, extremely hungry. But in the dead of night, with such terrible weather, he couldn't order takeaway in the hotel, so he had to look for food outside.
Unfortunately, looking around, the guests at the izakaya were all drinking. As a minor, he couldn't drink, and besides, alcohol wouldn't fill his stomach.
So he wrapped a notebook in a restraint belt, wrote with a pencil, and then quietly placed the notebook on the counter.
[A stray cat: I want some hot milk. (Cat want milk) (Milk, very good) (Help a poor stray cat passing by, thank you meow thank you meow)]
