The autumn day turned surprisingly warm. a good day is conducive to “good” work. The dirt and blood on his hands already welcomed him to the attacking Akatsuki organization. A formal suit restricts his movement a little, and a mask on his face only irritates him, but complying with the dress code is more important. Walking leisurely through the park, his nose catches the scent of cinnamon and lemon, but ignores this aroma until he almost trips over a sign. Raising his head from the phone, he sees a small table with several mugs and a kettle. Looking around, he notices that he was at some kind of event like a fair, and while he was looking around, his hand smoothly touched the white tablecloth.