What would you do for a... [Private/PM]

[Hirateuchi]

The hallways twisted around into a calamitous maze, ready to strike at unsuspecting prey unworthy enough to brave their depths… at least that’s how the quaint halls of the Aesculapium seemed at that moment in time as Hira wandered aimlessly, taking special care to note each room number as he passed by. As he hurried along, the tail ends of his kimono brushed through the nonexistent building wind, almost as though carried by some external force, the long elegant crimson stripes clashing artistically against the rest of the light blue fabric.

”Where the heck was this room again,” he muttered to himself impatiently as the white and red orbs in his head zipped around madly in search of an answer. He looked back down to the letter he had received from an old teacher of his, back from his days in the academy:</FONTFACE>

• 
  
  Hira,
  
  There’s a student I want you to look in on at the hospital. I know you were always talking to many other children while you were here, and I feel like she could use that kind of friendship… and I already know what kind of excuses you are coming up within your head right now; consider this a mission from your superior.
  
  She should be in room number…

<FONTFACE fontface="constantia">

Wait just a… Damnit! Hira frantically grasped his clothes as he wondered where the rest of the note had gone, only to end up looking dismayed at the torn bottom section. How did he get so careless with something so simple? He certainly had a long way to go before he was as reliable as the other shinobi in the village in aspects outside of combat. Although a thought kindled ever so slightly in the back of his head that it might be someone else at fault, he begrudgingly held that idea in reserve.

Hira tried desperately to find someone that might be lying about that could help him figure out who the letter may have been referring to, but alas the information was too vague to be of any help or concern to the wandering nurses and patients. Finding a nearby bench, Hira slumped down onto his rear, letting out a deep sigh that could have very well rumbled the very beams of the building were it amplified in any way. Brushing the long hair out of his face, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes, speaking aloud faintly in an odd tone to perhaps an invisible force; that or he had finally gone crazy. ”You could have been a little more careful with that note, old man. Just cause you’re bored doesn’t mean you should take it out on me…

 

[Eimin Panahime]

Traveling the hallways, the hospital was sure a big place and a place that one could easily get lost in, bless the soul, the boy held looking for a soul that may have not been there any longer. Ivory dressed. Jiggling, ringing echoed in a tune that glided over the silence of the hallways, liquid as colorful as they may, were held in various bottles of glass on a cart—Gripping a cold metallic bar, the circular shapes spun and down the narrow hallway they went. Sitting himself to a bench after his desperate attempts to find a person, or possibly, a room guided by a letter that seemed to be cut short. The faint sounds within the distance could’ve came him hope as he sat down in his own failure or hopelessness… If his hues dared to peer right, his turning head could’ve angled the ear to hear the song—Singing.

Instruments being the clacking of heels, the jiggling glass bottles and the eerie high pitch squeaking of the turning spheres, a dainty humored giggle danced through the hallways. Coming into his view, an older woman held no later than within her early 30s made her way to the sitting boy, as he was a boy compared to her. A child that must’ve needed guidance. “Are you lost?” She asked, her voice velvet wrapped with a misplaced pitch someone that always seemed to be too happy. Those defined winkles on the corner of those crimson lips were a hint that she always smiled and it did her well, as she smiled to the boy, she came to a halt about three feet to him, parking her cart of medicine.

Brushing her chocolate strings from her eyes. Her lips parted to speak. “We don’t normally get visitors on this side of the hospital… Are you looking for someone?<i></i>” She asked once more with a cheery smile, those bright emerald hues filled with curiosity.

---

Fuscia. Fingers of a single hand, held petite and fragile unbraiding the two lengthy locks interwoven together, the shaky breath of discomfort left her lungs and for a moment, she felt the raising pain within her lung… A small pitch almost. Blossoming like the cherries did in the spring, the pink orb held to its own radiance and stared back—Curling downward, the flesh around her mouth revealed her disdain. Accursed flower<i></i> growing out of her eye, her right eye was nothing more than a pot for this flower. She assumed that is what it was titled to. Everyone wanted a curse or a blessing, was it bad that Panahime simply wanted to die? Not a reason to live… Because living wasn’t the same as being happy and she could void it all with a single swing… Though. That would be far too degrading. Instead, she kept her wishes buried, because this was the same wish she was granted and the entitled power too. A place for a fiend to be free. Now. That was a wish farthest to be, not even in a fairytale will that be true and materialized, so. She’ll make that place by force…

Spiteful at best, these were opinions and thoughts interweaving with beliefs and hatred, kindling emotions and feelings; some long since dead and some reviving themselves. Such a mixture it was… Was she really this melancholic? She could smile at her own miserably as she always had a goal, a plan and a reason in mind. Those smiles of the few she met made her almost second guess her choice, but she assumed once again… She choose not to pay attention to such trivial things, which these fragmented emotions were such and she almost felt bad, but that too was trivial. Brushing her bangs, no matter what she did... The flower couldn't be covered.. Maybe.. She could—.