You’re at home in your kitchen. Your grandmother, flustered, rushes around preparing for a surprise visit from your relatives. She’s pulling down the serving dishes, grabbing at aprons, and generally creating a flurry of activity. She nearly drops a plate, and it wobbles precariously. Obāchan wa, chotto batabata shiteru (Grandma is in a bit of a flap).

You are walking through a park on a windy autumn day. Colorful leaves are swirling down from the trees. A flock of pigeons is disturbed by a dog chasing them, and they take flight, a chaotic rush of wings. The air is filled with the flutter of their flight. You look up at the rustling treetops.

You’re seated in a small office during a busy workday. Your coworker, trying to gather things before a meeting, is moving about in a rush. Papers are shuffled, and the printer spits out document after document. You feel the stress rise with the pace of her preparations. Her hurried motions build up the tension in the room.

It's summer, and you're at a local festival. Children wave colorful paper fans with delight at the various games. The vibrant fans move rapidly in every direction, as they attempt to cool themselves. The scene is full of joyous movement and the repeated sound of paper on paper.

Later in the day, a sudden storm starts. You’re watching from a window as your neighbor desperately tries to secure their laundry before the rain arrives. The sheets and towels, caught by the wind, flap wildly. Sentaku-mono ga batabata shiteiru (The laundry is flapping frantically).

You're at school, and you are just leaving your classroom. A classmate is behind you, opening and closing their bag with urgency. They are frantically looking for something. They are clearly in a rush to leave and gathering their things in a hurry. Kanojo wa, mono o batabata to sagashite iru (She is frantically searching for something).