It's all one flower.

Not long after the dawn of the year, a month passes, and tomorrow February begins.

My father's reaction is still faint today.

My youngest daughter snuck a sigh of sight so that her sister wouldn't notice.

My sister tells the father of the hospital bed with pleasure yesterday, from when she got home to when she came to the hospital room this morning.

The old father looks out the window and says nothing.

Are you looking at the scenery or are you simply turning your face? His face, burnt in the day and engraved with deep wrinkles, still did not move like a wooden carving today.

Every day, that repetition, my sister was not tired (ah) or frustrated (lottery) and spoke to my father.

Dementia, a common condition in the elderly, but can also develop in people who work well.

Every year, it is common in older, long-lived races (soybeans), but rarely in slower, older races (soybeans) after growth.

"Larna, look, look, Dad, you laughed at me"

I call my youngest daughter with the voice my sister played.

Awellana looked out the same window as my father. Stand in a round chair on the left side of the bed and turn to the right. It didn't look like my father's expression had changed. I look out the window without even gazing at my sister, Ilex.

The hospital window showed the city of Zerneau.

The rebuilt city, every house is still new. Thirty years later, there is still more land and the population has not recovered much.

Beyond some relatively city, Lake Lacus was shining.

A thin winter day makes the salt lake in the evening look like a mirror.

"It's a beautiful day."

Awellana stood by the window, telling her completely old sister. The six-person room is full, but there are no other visitors.

Until he was hospitalized six months ago, my father was fishing on Lake Lacus.

My father's forgotten things worse in the last five years. There was more to look for, and anything not found became the work of thieves.

He was an oligarchy fisherman who rarely spoke, except for what was originally necessary, but his mouth was even lower.

Three relatives, a brother and five fathers, take out only one remaining ship to the lake and acquire a fish determined for each season. All the clans that survived the civil war supported each other in their lives.

Now, I change the name of the ship to my brother Aviace, and the five of us who added my nephew go fishing.

My father, who was an oligarchy, talked no more days from a year before he was admitted to the hospital. The hair that was green was completely white.

... This is what it's like to die because of your age...

Awellana turned away from her father and looked at the day she began to lean.

The clan is a minority "lake people" living only on the shores of Lake Lacus.

Bright green hair depends on the need for more copper than the majority land people. At old age, copper absorption decreases, hair color falls out and becomes white.

Awellana's father, too, has white hair like snow. The age of the mid eighties is an everlasting race, therefore it can be said to be late.

Seven older sisters, Awellana and her older brother, have much lighter hair color and look yellow and green when the sun hits them.

My youngest daughter, Awellana, is the only long-lived race in the clan. With sixty years old at present, he still remains as young as fifteen or six girls.

About a third of the people of the lake are long-lived races that live for nearly a thousand years if nothing happens.

Awellana's family had a "great aunt" born seven generations ago, but died in the civil war earlier. My mother may have been a long-lived race, too, but since Awellana died at an early age, I don't know.

Now the long-lived race of the clan is Awellana alone.

My father's generation, who survived the civil war, is an old man with many years to live.

My brother and sister, my cousin...... no, even my nephew (hey man), born later, is already older than Awellana.

Within a hundred years, fathers and uncles and aunts will of course (of course), brothers and sisters, cousins and other relatives will all die.

Even if there's nothing, time will take your life.

Awellana looked up at the twilight sky.

... It's a beautiful day tomorrow.

When I was young, I remembered that my father taught me how to read the weather with my brother.

"I've done a lot of rough things against the Artel armies of the continent and the Royal Army of the people of the land."

Since peace, my relatives have been sneaking up on me, but they don't tell me anything in person. Back then, my father was still young, apparently working with the Nemoralis Self-Defense Army and the Lake Water Prostitution Army by driving his own ship.

My father taught me all sorts of things on a day without enemy assault, all at this time by mouth.

The reason was to say that you could live in case you were alone.

"If you want to survive, look at the sky's complexion rather than see the complexion of others."

He looked up at the sky and taught me how to read the weather.

Clouds change their appearance every day, and the colours of the sky do not have the same day as a day. I anticipated the weather that day and the next with waves of sky and lake to move from time to time.

The weather is [Flying Swallow (Swallow)] If you use the school technique, you will know for sure. Depending on the magic of the surgeon, I know until a month away, but my father read the sky not by magic, but by the experience of fishing.

"Dad, it's awesome! It's awesome to hit without magic."

"Dad, wow!

There were days off, but my father's weather forecast was highly accurate without magic.

Awellana and my brother looked up at the sky as my father said it would be and my father who would say the weather. My father laughed embarrassingly as he lit up.

"Neither my forecast nor [Flying Swallow] 's technique is omnipresent. If someone messes with the sky with surgery, it comes off."

"Dad, messing with the sky, what?

My brother asked anxiously.

Awellana also had anxiety about her brother, and she grabbed the hem of her father's clothes.

"There's a way to change the weather. Clear a rainy day or call a storm on a sunny day or something..."

"No way. I can't believe the storm."

"Ship, it's sinking"

pounding the heads of the children who lay beso, and my father laughed and said:

"That's not true, how much strong magic do you think it takes? The sky is wide, isn't it?

"But..."

"You messed with the sky, and as far as I know, there's just one guy in town who let it rain a little. Don't worry about it."