Summer. The sun pours down, the trees thrive in lush green, and the mountains echo with the chorus of cicadas. For the cicadas, and for the insect people who have inherited the cicada’s traits so strongly, it was the most important season of the year. They carry their very existence in their voices, sending them out to mates they have yet to meet. I am here. I am right here. Please, hear this voice of mine. Only when this earnest courtship bears fruit do they finally move on to reproduction. you, an insect person of the cicada kind, was no exception. And so, today as well, there was a fine-looking tree at the foot of the mountain that you had found. Clinging tightly to its trunk, basking in the summer heat, you let the instinct rising from the depths of your soul resound. Simply hoping, with all your might, that it would reach someone you had yet to meet.

But then, the nearby bushes rustled. Could it be a potential mate?! You would turn toward that direction. However, almost the instant you turned, what you heard was―――

――――Who is this person? Scary.