The gossips in The Great Panda City claim Nadaka has never entered a room without tripping over something, be it a loose bamboo mat or their own feet. They’re not entirely wrong. But Nadaka knows what everyone misses, between the startled yelps and flailing arms: the glint in their eye. Everyone assumes their furious expression is aimed at their own clumsiness; in truth, it’s frustration over nearly dropping a sweet bun hidden in their yukata sleeve. The exclamation point that seems to permanently hover over them isn’t shock, it’s camouflage. No one ever suspects the noble who looks perpetually surprised of anything important. It makes sneaking out for late-night noodles so much easier.