Winter, Hebijo Academy's nursery
"Come on, Murasaki! Be a brave shinobi for once!" Imu yeels at her ill little sister
But the purple busty girl cannot make a single move, not matter how hard she ties.
"Onee-chan, sorry, but I can't..." Murasaki tells Imu with a weak voice, barely audible.
The third-year student was about to protest when her white-haired comrade stops her.
"Imu, I know you her to do more missions at our sides, but if she's ill, there's nothing we can do..." Miyabi says.
Imu doesn't respond, or rather, she cannot respond because her friend (and lover) is right.
"Ryobi and Ryona are waiting for us, let's go" Miyabi orders her comrade, who just nods in agreement.
Then, the leader of Hebijo elites takes a look at Murasaki with a cheerful smile.
"Have a good rest, Murasaki." she says before leaving the nursery.
Murasaki smiles, but her smile immediately leave her face because of a sudden headache.
"It hurts so much..." She complains, even if she's the only one resting in the nursery (which it's very unusual at Hebijo).
One hour later
Murasaki is still alone, usually, she would enjoy it, but without anything to kill time and having horrible headache, she's suffering a lot.
She tried to sleep, but because of the pain, she's still awaken.
Then...
"Excuse-me." A girl with a soft voice says by entering the nursery.
For a second, Murasaki though it was a nurse, but she was wrong...
The girl is a student with green hair and purple eyes.
It's Basho.
Murasaki doesn't really know her, so, she thought she can just ignore her... but she's wrong again.
"Murasaki... Hello..." Basho tells Murasaki in a nervous tone.
Murasaki, surprised, needed a moment to realize Basho was talking to her.
"Um... Hello..." She managed to say.
"Sorry to bother you, but I have heard you are ill and..." Basho starts, but too nervous to finish.
"And?" Murasaki asks, curious.
"I have some... poems that can help you to feel better, would you like me to read it to you?" Basho asks, still a little embarrassed.
Murasaki does know about Basho poetic nature, but she wasn't expecting something like that.
The purple-haired girl isn't into poetry, but...
"Why not..."
She's so tired of her situation she accepts, thinking it could be worse.
"Alright..." Basho says, way calmer.
The green-haired shinobi takes a few time to choose the best poem she can think about.
And once her choice made...
"When against earth a wooden heel
Clicks as loud as stone on steel,
When stone turns flour instead of flakes,
And frost bakes clay as fire bakes,
When the hard-bitten fields at last
Crack like iron flawed in the cast,
When the world is wicked and cross and old,
I long to be quit of the cruel cold.
Little birds like bubbles of glass
Fly to other Americas,
Birds as bright as sparkles of wine
Fly in the nite to the Argentine,
Birds of azure and flame-birds go
To the tropical Gulf of Mexico:
They chase the sun, they follow the heat,
It is sweet in their bones, O sweet, sweet, sweet
It's not with them that I'd love to be,
But under the roots of the balsam tree.
Just as the spiniest chestnut-burr
Is lined within with the finest fur,
So the stoney-walled, snow-roofed house
Of every squirrel and mole and mouse
Is lined with thistledown, sea-gull's feather,
Velvet mullein-leaf, heaped together
With balsam and juniper, dry and curled,
Sweeter than anything else in the world"
Author's note: "Winter Poems" by Elinor Morton Wylie
Basho, once the poem she found a few days ago on the Internet finished, looks at Murasaki.
The ill shut-in has fallen asleep.
By seeing that, Basho can't help by smile, proud of her successful plan.
And thus, as silent as possible, Basho is leaving the nursery.
And once in front of the door, Basho slowly opens it, but before leaving the room...
"Have a good rest, Murasaki." She softly tells the sleeping shinobi.
END