It's all one flower.

Over the past few days, I have often eaten at the store to gather information at noon.

What restaurants are open and what dishes can be served? Talk to the shopkeepers and local guests to find out the difference between pre-war and pre-measles epidemics.

The inhabitants of the city of Akant are all the people of the lake. Morphs, I just thought there was no such thing as a civilian mesh shop on land, but surprisingly there was a shop with a "Welcome of the people on land" tag on the door.

The manager of Leno told me a few days ago that it was for pedestrians coming from all over the place.

Still, there are no restaurants dedicated to the people of land on boulders. A slightly larger shop is just a way to separate the kitchen from the cookware and dishes so that the greens and blues do not mix.

Boy soldier Morph remembered the lion's shop on Lanterna Island and wanted an omelet, but it wasn't in any store. They say the farmer was hit with measles and was unable to arrive with fresh eggs.

... I can't eat omelettes because of the disease epidemic, or what?

Never expecting it to affect his meal, Morph entered the store following two adults with unparalleled anger and frustration.

Wrapped in the piano tone, frustration blew up all at once.

"All one flower" familiar to the ear flows loosely into a wide store.

The table with the season is almost full, with a gray-haired figure manipulating the grand piano in the back. Every time a long finger ran a black and white keyboard, a delicate chord was spun out, shaking Morph's mind.

Ten seats for four and the majority of guests at the counter forget to eat and listen.

... Is this some kind of magic, too?

As soon as the song was over and the chord remnants disappeared, a simultaneous applause occurred. The morph is also stuck and slaps his hand.

A gray-haired piano player waves to the guest table and responds to the applause. When the morphs turned to the three of them, their mouths seemed to move "ah... so". Padolrik nods and waves his hands back small.

The piano grandfather returned the meeting and turned to the keyboard, where he started playing songs he didn't know Morph.

The clerk called out as the three settled into the counter seat.

"Are you acquainted with Mr. Snegg?

"I've heard you play in other cities."

When Padolrik talked about the mobile broadcaster, he said he was calling the store manager and pulled him back without even taking his order.

Looking around the wall, under the wood tag of the culinary name is affixed a piece of paper that says "sold off" and there is nothing you can order. If you look closely, they all have the same dishes in front of the guests.

... We can eat, Mon. Is that you?

The guests are 90% of the people of the lake. The people of the land have only one brunette man besides the morphs.

The food came earlier than the manager.

It's like a loaf of vegetable soup and two fists of bread.

Morph glanced at the terrified neighbor.

For the fisherman's grandfather, the juice is the same green as the hair, but the morph and paddlelik's are transparent. Stir with a spoon in a hop. There was a piece of meat at the bottom that I was sorry about.

For a moment I remember the butcher earlier, I was frightened, but I can't beat hunger.

Throw it into your mouth with the vegetables and chew it up.

The unprecedented taste seeped out. The more you chew, the more flavor you get. Hand in memory as I moved my mouth, but I had no idea what meat it was.

... What is this? Ugh.

Explore the deep dish of soup with a spoon if you don't have more. Just two small slices sink.

I feel like I don't have any body, pull over to the edge of my mouth and drink only vegetables. Now cheek with only vegetables. Chewing with the mysterious meat made the flavor mixed and delicious many times.

Snegg's piano continues even while Morph is obsessed and eats soup.

A spiral of investigation bathes in a mild spring day, flowing into the cafe at lunch. Gentle tones silenced the field more than silence.

"Are you a mobile broadcaster?

"That's right. These three of us are now turning to requests for interviews and announcements."

The green-haired shopkeeper spoke over the counter, and Padorik responded comfortably by interrupting the meal. A fisherman's grandfather takes a handwritten poster out of the bag and puts it on the counter.

"Praethermissa… are you the broadcasters rumored by the PLA people"

"What kind of rumors did they hear?

I reluctantly ask Padolrik, "I hope I didn't tell you".

The guests in the other seats were able to glimpse this one and hear it.

The manager stretches his spine and changes his tone.

"He said some branch chief was grabbed by Gaseneta, moved his soldiers arbitrarily, and attacked the autonomous community. But someone from the broadcaster spotted the information as fake and passed on the information on the march to General Unuk Elhaia, so he didn't have to be an ogot or anything..."

Padolrik affirms what he heard as he nodded.

"Yep. That's Mr. Rafe from FM Cravel, isn't it? Mainly responsible for operating the equipment"

"FM Cravel?

"It's the only broadcaster in the metropolitan area, so you probably don't know it around here."

Padolrik explains his voice slightly louder so that other guests can hear him.

"We got caught up in the battle right after the coup, and we started this mobile broadcaster, Praethermassa, with the state-run broadcaster, Jorch."

"Heh."

A voice arose from all over admiring me.

"We are on edge and helping broadcast"

"This poster, please, let me stick it to us. So, can you do this second live public broadcast, in front of our store?

The manager reached out to the counter and took a handwritten poster.

"The second time, I plan to do it in this mall, are you sure? Sales on the air…"

"Of course (of course). And I want Mr. Snegg's piano on the air."

"Mr. Snegg's...?

Padolrik watches the grand piano in the back over his shoulder.

The manager of the café tells of hope by putting him on a quietly flowing study.

"I want you to play a song other than a military song and remind everyone when it was peaceful."

"It's also convenient for Mr. Snegg, and I can't decide right away..."

Sneigh, who finished one song, raises one hand and joins the story.

"We'll meet tomorrow morning."

"Okay. I'll pick you up here tomorrow."

The fisherman's grandfather responded, and this story ended first.