Of course! I'd be happy to teach you. [All the innocent, expectant faces turning towards her aren't intimidating; she's performed in front of way scarier audiences. But for some reason, there's something about this scenario-- about the fear and panic here, about their worry, about their need for comfort-- that makes this feel far more important. Again, she thinks back to that time aboard the Frontier.
She's about to sing, but then she stops.] Ah, but that song's a little sad, isn't it? Maybe they'd appreciate something more lighthearted...?
[But so many of her other songs seem so inappropriate for a time like this. What else can she sing? What's pretty, and uplifting, and easy to teach to scared kids?
Then it hits her. An alien love song, a song to cross boundaries. So when she begins to sing, it's not the song Konoha may be expecting. In fact, it's a little simpler.
Even if this song isn't hers.]
Aimo, aimo, ne te lushe... noina miria, en del plotea...
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She's about to sing, but then she stops.] Ah, but that song's a little sad, isn't it? Maybe they'd appreciate something more lighthearted...?
[But so many of her other songs seem so inappropriate for a time like this. What else can she sing? What's pretty, and uplifting, and easy to teach to scared kids?
Then it hits her. An alien love song, a song to cross boundaries. So when she begins to sing, it's not the song Konoha may be expecting. In fact, it's a little simpler.
Even if this song isn't hers.]
Aimo, aimo, ne te lushe... noina miria, en del plotea...