It's all one flower.

The demon soldier Rubel spent the whole day in his own room in a barracks located on the outskirts of the capital, Cravel, reading newspapers. I listened to all of today's song shows, but there was no corner for the fostering. I'm unplugging the radio battery now.

... I should have heard the name of the show too.

From the weekly radio section on the inside of the newspaper, I wrote out a song show on a note sheet to make a table. Every day, there is some kind of song show. It was two this morning and evening, but only one tomorrow night.

Long before the show started, I felt heavier wondering if I was going to keep reading wartime color-stained newspapers, but I had no choice but to wait. There was nothing else I could do, and the manuscript had just been left in my hometown during this time, and there was not a single book left on my license.

Turning to the sound of a knock, a carefree voice of a colleague arrived over the door.

"Rubel, you haven't had a good night yet, have you?

I cared about the time on the radio show, but didn't care about the actual time. Keeping an eye on the window with the curtain open, it was already completely night and the watchman was on guard under the constant night light.

My colleagues speak up even more. Rubel responded with no choice.

"Thanks, I'm not hungry right now..."

"Are you sick, are you sick?

"No, that's okay"

"Well, if you can't eat it, you can't make it worse."

I realized it again when I was told. If you are discharged from the army because you are ill, you will no longer be able to fulfill Mulak's wishes.

With Rubel's magic and acquired technique, I think I can handle it personally, but I don't think the upper ranks of the army will let go lightly of demon soldiers with serious secrets. In the worst case scenario, I opened the door thinking it could also be killed.

The smell of soup comes in before my colleagues do.

"Let's eat together. He said he'd return the dishes to the cafeteria tomorrow."

A colleague heads to the writing desk. Newspapers, notepapers, notebooks, and writing instruments were out of the way and I couldn't put the tray down, and I rang out to Rubel at the door.

"What is this? Write down when you're doing the song show..."

"Yeah. If you even listen to the song, I thought you'd be distracted"

Close the door and place the paper on the desk on top of each other on the edge.

Naturally, there is only one chair because it is a single room. My colleague took a sachet of biscuits from the tray and hit it on the wall as well.

"'Cause I ate a mess. Snacks now"

"... thanks"

A sip of warm soup reminds me that the plumage swept through my stomach and my body was hungry. The colleague opened the bag of biscuits, watching Rubel eat a little further.

With the flagship on sentry duty, he looks familiar to his face, but he's not particularly close. Now, it's disgusting to hear the name.

I don't even know their name, they don't have a common topic other than work, but I don't want to talk about work right now. The two quietly proceeded to eat.

... Why did he call me... Oh, did you remember hearing the captain or something call me?

Rubel was distracted only by unfamiliar onboard missions and distant Artel armies and demonic asthma cannons on the other side, and realized that he had not come at all aware of those who worked right beside him.

My colleague's badge (today) is the same as Rubel's [Flying Horned Eagle (Beech Bear)]. I find one excuse that I don't remember his name because we just looked at each other when we took turns, and I'm somewhat horrified.

... Mullark was beside me only to protect me when I was on a lone mission...

Still, I didn't talk about anything other than work.

Even the original security forces did.

Military work doesn't know when and who will lose their lives.

Rubel feared the pain of loss and should have kept him from getting along with anyone in the military the whole time, but such a small worker was completely pointless. Even now, an unknown colleague cares about Rubel, and Rubel feels grateful and close to him.

Mulak, who took his breath out in front of him, of course (and of course), and the reassurance of the army, became thorns that left Rubel's heart in pain.

I have no idea what happened to everyone in the Corps in the air raid by the Allied Artel Lanista forces, which was carried out unintentionally, immediately after the armed terrorist attacks that were fought by the people of the Autonomous Communities.

If you check badly and find out you're not safe, the wound will deepen. If I didn't know, I'd have been transferred to another unit just like Rubel.

"Who's your favorite singer?

"What...? Oh, no, especially. If it's a good song, I'll listen to whoever sings it."

A colleague who had finished eating biscuits questioned the warmer hot milk in his hand and seemed surprised by Rubel's answer, but immediately smiled.

"It is. I'm a fan of Niptra Neumae. You know what? Niptra."

"Hmmm...... come on?

As the demon soldier Rubel tilted his neck, his colleague spoke uplifting his cheek.

"I'm a soprano singer who debuted before half a century of civil unrest, and not only have I been a classic in the last decade or so, but I've also been a cover for songs of the day, and I'm the couch I found out in that cover song, but whatever my voice is, I'm already awesome and beautiful"

"Heh... I listen to classics too, maybe if I listen to my voice I'll know"

"Me, I'm off duty tomorrow, charity bazaar with you, why don't you go check it out?

"I'm waiting right now..."

"It's a harbor right there, and you can file an outing, get it out. You think he might be cute? He said I'd rather go outside and be distracted than caged in my room all the time."

"But I don't have much (mostly) to exchange right now..."

Co-workers laugh at the reluctant rubel's shoulder with a casual slap.

"It's a distraction, so you just have to look around. Can you help me find the record?

"... ok. Well, I'll just say it."

If you don't get permission to go out, that's it. The care of a colleague who said he would take me out on purpose until I made errands cleared my mind.

Born after half a century of civil unrest, the young soldier only knew and felt what war was like, in history classes and the stories of teachers and superiors, grandparents and parents. No matter how much I hear about the experience, I can't imagine what it actually looks like and I can't pin it.

Thirty years after the end of the civil unrest, peace prevailed, reconstruction progressed rapidly, and Rubels and young people had little recollection of burns or ruins.

Slightly remaining ruins were, apparently, an excellent playground for the boys, but Rubel's home village was peaceful during the civil unrest, so I only know that in memorabilia of someone who went out into the city, too.

If the Crusader of the Warcraft was wounded, peace would have persisted so much that he would have been criticized in the newspapers for "deficiencies in troop formation and equipment" and so on.

After the war, the demon soldier Rubel has witnessed many deaths since he broke up with the security forces in flames, including the moment the air defenses were sunk with missiles, the way people take each other in a devastated city, and the way he sacrificed his own people to intercept the great formation of fighters and bombers.

It was a distant event beyond the reach of [the enemy] and the misfortune of Rubel's strangers, so he managed to keep his mind stable.

In Rubel's hands, the weight of Mulak's body, which had lost its power and plumage, still remained clear.

"Recently, the song shows have become shorter and less fun."

"Right."

Put the empty mug back on the tray, a colleague says. Rubel, an exorcist who was sinking into hard memories, answered with few words, drawn back to reality.

"But as soon as the time is shorter, are you going to try to thicken the content, or have a new corner, and if your hobby suits you, you can enjoy it a lot?"

"Hmmm......... erm... for example?

Realizing that the gavel alone would not continue the conversation, Rubel added the question.

"For example... right. Tomorrow I'll have a corner of the rhythm, and once a week I'll play one or two of the rhythms."

"Rhyme...!

"It's unusual, isn't it? Someone from there, uh, somehow a citizen's orchestra singer sang, and they were recruiting from inside a refugee camp in Amitostigma to stream the recordings locally. Refugee sings one name at a time before singing, so I only eat one song for that amount of time, but it's popular because I know how cheap people I know and so on."

I guess I saw joy in Rubel's face. My colleague explained with pleasure.

... Tomorrow night... Twenty-one.

That's convenient, I don't think Rubel's hometown of Assaite Village song will play, but it's a huge gain just because the show turns out. I don't need to drain extra batteries.

"Thanks for letting me know"

"That's okay, about it. Do you like foster music or something?

"You say you like it..."

Radio only broadcasts once. Even if I miss hearing it, I can't put it back like a record and repeat the previous part. Rubel asked me out of the blue.

"In the meantime, when I got home for a little while, the singer from the Folklore Survey came to town."

"Awesome! Did you get me to sign it?

"No, that's because I called on the way back to the base..."

"Oh well. My local is an aeger, but what about Rubel?... Oh, my parents were safe, never mind"

Cities in the northwestern part of the island of Nenia were also under air raid.

Compared to the city of Gardenia to the south of it, I can say it's better, but it's not in a reassuring state. I doubt if my colleague's body or friends/acquaintances are really safe, but it wasn't something I could ask.

"I call it the village of Assaite... it's a village on the eastern edge of the Ougari Mountains. There's really nothing in the mountains..."

"Right. So, you didn't have to get hit by an air raid. Good."

A colleague smiles softly and looks at Rubel.

"Ah, I'm sorry. Stay on your feet. Me, I'm gonna sit in bed, use my chair."

"You don't have to worry about that," said a coworker as Rubell moved in front of the bed with a chair.

"Um, what kind of song does Asaeto Village have?

"It's a summer festival song. This year, well, this is why I can't go home on a festival day... because I remember Uro, and I want to hear it right and remember it again."

"It is. Can you just sing where I remember you?

"Yeah. So, do me one favor, okay?

"Hmm? What? What I can do, if you don't want to hang the money, it's fine."

"Riddle, I don't know when it's going to air, but if I can ask you when you're at the base, would you write down the lyrics? If you miss hearing that I'm alone, that's it..."

It's best to go home and ask someone in the village, but now I don't know when I can go home. On the contrary, there was no guarantee that I would return alive.

"Yeah. Fine. Instead, next time, you can enjoy the local cuisine."

"Fine, but we can't get the ingredients here, so we don't know when."

"Fine. After peace."

My colleague made me laugh without giving in, but now, above all, the words were heavy.