To Save a Bird

[Lunanana]

She didn’t have an exact destination or location today. It was one of those walks people take to clear their heads or remind themselves that they need to keep moving, and she was enjoying it. Gravel crunched beneath her feet, as she was focusing her gaze on the path before her, leading around the busiest part of the village. Some people were here as well, living out the sunny day, basking in the warmth, happily chatting, enjoying some ice cream and the company of one another. It put a warm smile on Tsuki’s face, as she continued onwards, not putting much thought that she was walking the path around the Academy now.

She caught the sight of the inner yard with the corner of her eye, a wave of nostalgia washing over her. Maybe it was the way the midday sun hit the edges of the building that made her remember their attempts at transformation jutsu and kunai target practice. Tsuki didn’t have the chance to travel further into the memory (maybe for the best), as she heard a silent chirp, just beneath the oak tree. Stopping by the fence, Tsuki narrowed her eyes a little, locating a small bird, almost screaming for help in its own little language.

It didn’t take long for her to locate the gate, with a gentle push it opened, and she took a few slow steps, eventually lowering herself to take a better look at the panicked creature. Thrown out of the nest? Fell out? Well, she had to do something before the cats came.

[AFungalNetwork]

Bamba was having a little walk about. He had just finished his daily training and, more importantly, a six course after training meal. A bit of cardio would do him some good. He walked through town smiling, waving, and greeting those around him; he had many friends in the village and he was happy to see them all.

As he wandered, he found himself outside the academy. It had been some time since he had been to the academy. He remembered training with other Akimichi kids and a couple of Hyuuga, those that were willing to. He walked around where he discovered Tsuki helping a fallen bird. She was the one who had helped Melty during the cooking competition, for some reason he couldn't remember the results of that competition, but he shrugged and approached slowly.

Good day, Tsuki was it? I'm Bamba, I was a judge at the cooking contest, I'm not sure if you remember me or not. he said with a smile.

165 words

[Lunanana]

Tsuki tilted her head to the side, inspecting the bird to the best of her ability. She didn’t have enough knowledge on the matter, will the bird be okay? Worry painted her features before she gasped, hearing a somewhat familiar voice behind her. Slowly standing up and straightening her back, she turned around, the tops of her cheeks already rosy from being surprised. ”Oh, Bamba-san. Yes, I do recall… Hello.” She nodded politely and looked to the bird again, her mouth forming a straight line.

”Say, Bamba-san… Do you have any experience with birds? I think this one is… In a bit of a situation. I don’t really want to leave it like that.” There was a hint of worry in her tone, and yet she knew she couldn’t take the bird back to her house, where their midnight black cat Shinya was the king. The bird wouldn’t survive for thirty minutes, all chance of healing it going out of the window. ”Do you think it’s hurt?” Tsuki asked, returning her gaze to Bamba and then darting it back to the bird.

[AFungalNetwork]

He knelt beside the bird with care, his weathered hands moving slowly and respectfully. His gaze rested on the delicate creature, its chest rising and falling in small, shaky breaths.

Mmm, he hummed thoughtfully. Birds are mysterious things. Fragile, yes, but full of spirit. Like a flame in the wind — flickering, but still burning. He looked up at Tsuki with soft, knowing eyes. Sometimes, all a bird needs is a quiet place to breathe. Other times… it needs to be let go, so it can find peace in the sky, or in the stillness beyond.

He gently plucked a fallen leaf and placed it beside the bird, like a tiny offering.

As for experience, he chuckled again, I have spoken with many birds. Some listened. Most flew away. But I have learned that care, even from a stranger, can change a fate. If we stay here a while and offer it calm… we may learn what it needs.

He reached into his sleeve and pulled out a small pouch. I carry a few herbs that might help with shock. They are more meant for humans, but kindness has its own medicine.

Then, after a pause, he added with a warm smile, And if your cat is a king, perhaps this little one is a wandering prince. Best not to bring royalty into conflict.
Bamba leaned closer, his eyes narrowing with gentle focus as he studied the bird’s trembling form. His fingers, calloused yet tender, moved aside a few ruffled feathers with great care.

Ah… there we are, he murmured, almost to himself. Just a scratch, near the wing. Not deep, but enough to frighten the poor thing. Fear, Tsuki-san, can turn even the smallest wound into a great storm in the heart.

He sat back on his heels, reaching into his sleeve again with practiced ease. He pulled out a few small leaves—green, slightly crinkled, and smelling faintly of mint and earth.
This one, he said, showing her the herbs, is called kawakusa. It calms the body and draws out the heat of pain. My old teacher used it on me once after I fell out of a plum tree… though I suspect the lesson was more about balance than bruises.
With that, Bamba placed a few leaves in his mouth and began to chew slowly, methodically. His eyes closed in quiet thought, as if the act itself connected him to a past memory. Once the leaves had become a soft paste, he removed them from his mouth, holding the mixture gently in his palm.

Not the most elegant method, I’ll admit, he said with a chuckle, but sometimes the old ways still carry the most heart.

He dabbed the paste onto the bird’s wing with great care, using a scrap of cloth from his sleeve to spread it evenly. The bird shivered once, then settled, its breathing easing just slightly.
There. Now we wait. Healing isn’t always about doing more—it’s often about doing less, and simply being present.
Bamba glanced at Tsuki, his expression warm. You were right not to walk away, Tsuki-san. Many people see a small creature and think it is not their concern. But great kindness always begins in small moments.

He produced a bag of potato chips from his kimono. They looked small in his giant hands but they were closer to the size of Tsuki's head. He ate a few himself then crushed a few in his palm and offered them to the bird. It gently pecked away at the crumbs.
Where are my manners!Bamba exclaimed suddenly as he moved the bag to face Tsuki, Please, have some! They are seaweed flavor. he said with a warm smile.

615 words

[Lunanana]

Tsuki stood beside Bamba, watching his actions with thoughtful eyes. Her usual stillness, straight back, trained posture, all slowly melted away like an invisible weight from her shoulders. She caught up on the parallel Bamba was drawing, without he himself knowing that. She didn’t speak yet – there was nothing to say but Tsuki was a good listener. She gently crouched, her gaze softening at the small bird in front of them.

Her curiosity was peaked at the herbs in Bamba’s hands. They were dried, and she felt her eyebrows dip down just a little bit, not being able to identify it. ”Herbs… Bamba-san, did you gather those on the outer edge of the village walls? Or perhaps the Hyuuga forest?” It was a special interest of her ointment crafting and possibly a common thread between them both. A warm smile appeared on her lips on the mention of her, their cat but she didn’t correct Bamba – there was no need. She let the memory of the midnight cat and a raven haired boy warm her heart, before her expression turned more focused.

Something tugged at the bottom of her heart seeing the hurt bird. ”Such a small creature,” Tsuki said, her tone a little quieter, more thoughtful. ” and yet it holds the power none of us have – to fly, to compress us all into small dots on the ground while cruising through the sky.” The warm smile on her lips morphed into a small frown, closely watching Bamba place the paste on the side of the bird.

You were right not to walk away, Tsuki-san. Many people see a small creature and think it is not their concern. But great kindness always begins in small moments. Her eyes widened slowly, gaze trailing to Bamba, then back at the bird, softening again. Bittersweet. ”I believe there’s good in all of us,” Her body lowered slowly, legs neatly folded under her. ”most of us are just hurt… There’s a lot of hurt in this world. All kinds, all flavors, some deeper than others. For better or for worse, I believe in the good the world has to offer.” Tsuki looked up at Bamba, an understanding smile reaching her eyes. It was soft and at the same time held hints of hidden first-hand experience. ”I’m just glad our little friend got hurt in this way. One way or the other, world will get us, as long as it is physical, we can heal. Other type of pain is healed by others… Let’s just say I am glad that I have a hard goodbye in my heart. Those make it worth it.” Hopefully it will never come to that. All she had was hope.

Soon, the atmosphere shifted, and a soft chuckle escaped Tsuki’s lips as she gently shook her head. ”I really appreciate the gesture, Bamba-san but I am good. Thank you.” She said and neatly folded her hands in her lap, tilting her head to the side slightly, curious. ”If I may ask, I have noticed your name in the mission registry. Do you have a team? How’s that going?”

[AFungalNetwork]

Bamba smiled as Tsuki spoke — a slow, inward smile touched with something unspoken. Her words stirred something in him, like an old memory trying to surface through mist. He watched the small bird begin to hop gently along the grass, its movement a little stiff, but determined. It stayed near them, pausing now and then as if to ensure they were still there; a quiet act of trust. Bamba's expression softened, then shifted, the lines around his eyes becoming deeper with something that might have been pain… or perhaps resignation. He gave a long, slow exhale through his nose.

Ah, he said at last, in that tone he used when words weren’t quite enough, so it has chosen to stay, for now. Even with its wings not yet strong.

Then, Tsuki's question landed; soft, respectful, but direct. Bamba’s gaze lingered on the bird. His voice came after a beat of silence, low and even. My team…
He paused, as if tasting the words. Then: No, Tsuki-san. I suppose… I do not have one. Not really.
He looked over at her, and though his expression held warmth still, there was something hollow behind it — like a room once full of life, now left with the faint scent of incense and echoes of laughter.
They were bright. All of them. In different ways. Curious. Fierce. Even stubborn. A fondness crept into his voice, but it didn’t linger long. But life moves strangely, doesn't it? Like water. It flows where it wills. One of them vanished like smoke. No message. No farewell. Another simply... quieted. As though their flame dimmed for reasons I could not reach. The last… I have not heard from in many weeks. Perhaps they too have chosen another path.

He gave a small chuckle, though it carried no mirth. I try not to take it personally. But some silences weigh more than others.
For a moment, he was still; watching the bird hop, adjusting to its tiny pain with instinct and persistence. Then he added, almost to himself:
Sometimes, I wonder if I said too little. Or too much.
He looked up at Tsuki again, and there was a spark of clarity in his eyes; not sharp, not bitter, just present. But we cannot hold onto people like we do a sword or a scroll. We teach, we hope… and then we wait. Sometimes, we are lucky. Sometimes… we simply light the lantern and hope it helps them find their way back in the dark.
Then, with a tired, wry smile, he added, You were right before. The wounds of the body — we know how to mend them. But the heart… ah, that’s the patient that refuses to stay still.
He reached into his sleeve and sprinkled a few more herbs beside the bird, not as medicine this time, but as offering — and perhaps as farewell, if it chose to fly soon.

But I am still here, he said, looking at Tsuki, more steady now. If ever a team needs a guide — or simply a man with too much chanko and too many stories — I will answer.

He looked up at her and sensing the atmosphere had DRASTICALLY shifted in the opposite direction, he added, About the herbs... I have some friends among the Hyuuga who bring me things from time to time. These were meant to be added to a broth today but I'm glad I was able to put them to better use. he said with his normal kind smile, his eyes crinkling at the sides and his pudgy cheeks flushed with red.

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