Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Rangi stormed off, feeling Kyoshi’s eyes on her. She heard her name being called, but refused to acknowledge it. Rangi may have been the Avatar’s bodyguard, and Kyoshi may have been the Avatar, but right now, to her, Rangi, Kyoshi was just... Kyoshi. So she ignored her friend (and longtime crush), and left the small inn where their single-room lodgings were.

Rangi kept walking until she reached the shore of the lake by which Hujiang was built. In the moonlight, the water sparkled and shimmered like liquid silver. Rangi didn’t care about that, though, and simply stared at the silvery sheen on the water. She began to take off her armor, as it had gotten very uncomfortable and she didn’t want to keep wearing it. She knew the risk of being attacked was very low, for as of tonight, she was probably the safest person in Hujiang. She looked up to the moon, its face-like surface gleaming in the dark of the night. Suddenly, there was a loud shout of “Rangi!” and the soft, quiet peace was shattered.

“You want to tell me what that was about?” Kyoshi shouted as she stormed through the underbrush like a rampaging saber-toothed moose-lion, her face slightly red from anger, stopping directly behind her. Rangi refused to humor her by turning around, staring out over the glittering water, her expression hard.

“Mok was treating us like dung, and now, slightly less so. I impressed a daofei. Hasn’t that been our goal?” she sneered, her voice cold and curt.

"My mother’s gang belonged to my mother! Mok is a rabid animal with whom we have no leverage! It was a stupid risk!”

Rangi felt her anger rise as she slowly got to her feet, still not making eye contact with Kyoshi. She had been letting her toes dangle in the silvery lake, enjoying the sensation of the cool liquid on her feet, but now stood ankle deep in the water, finally looking up at her friend.

“Of course it was!” she hissed, her expression darkening slowly. She took a step towards Kyoshi, nearly shoving her finger in the girl's chest out of instinct, but caught herself. Twisting her hands, she looked away, not knowing what to do with them. “I did exactly what you’ve been doing this whole time!”

She paused for a split second, then continued, glaring up at Kyoshi, her voice low. “Let me tell you something," she said, her expression unreadable. "I blacked out when I got hit. If I hadn’t woken up quickly, that man would have killed me.”

Rangi watched, with a twinge of satisfaction, as Kyoshi’s face went slightly red with anger, to livid, and white with fury. Perhaps she finally understood the pain that she’d been putting Rangi through.

“You know what you felt, watching me lie on the canvas? That helplessness? That sensation of your anchor being cut loose?" Rangi shouted, praying that she wasn't wrong, that she wasn't making the biggest mistake of her life. That Kyoshi felt the same way. "That’s what I’ve been feeling, watching you, every single minute since we left Yokoya! I got on that platform so you could see it from my perspective! I had no idea what else would get through to you!”

She kicked at the surface of the glasslike lake, slicing a wave between her and Kyoshi, sending ripples shooting across it and breaking the quiet peace of the surface tension. “I watch you throw yourself headlong into danger, over and over again, and for what? Some misguided attempt to bring Jianzhu ‘to justice’? Do you even know what that means anymore?”

Kyoshi glowered at her for a moment, then said, every word clearly enunciated like she was talking to a toddler, with the air of someone controlling themselves with great difficulty, “It means he’s gone for good. No longer walking this earth. That’s what it has to mean.”

Rangi squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, her mind whirling, so incredibly overwhelmed and confused by the multitude of emotions she was feeling. She forced herself to open them again, her voice a raw, hoarse whisper, staring up at Kyoshi with a mixture of anger and desperation. “Why? Why do you need to do this so badly?”

One look at Kyoshi’s face told her everything she needed to know: she’d finally overstepped, and Kyoshi had snapped like a twig breaking under someone’s boot.

“Because then I don't have to be afraid of him, anymore!" Kyoshi screamed, the sound a ragged cry of a terrified, desperate girl at the end of her rope, not a vengeful warrior seeking retribution. "I'm scared, alright? I'm scared of him, and I don't know what else will make it go away!”

Rangi stood in silence, too shocked to respond, staring up at the girl she loved. Scared, she'd said. Scared? Kyoshi?

Of course she's scared! One side of her brain argued. She found out she was the Avatar a matter of weeks ago, and now her whole life's been turned upside down!

But... she's Kyoshi, the other side whispered. Kyoshi doesn't get scared. She's the Avatar. She's strong.

She stayed like that for a few seconds, completely dumbfounded, until she felt tears welling up in her eyes. She quickly squeezed them shut, not wanting to show weakness, inhaling sharply several times to try and calm herself down. She opened them for a moment, intending to look away, then saw that Kyoshi was fighting back tears of her own.

“Talk to me...” she heard Kyoshi whisper, voice breaking, barely audible. Then, even quieter: “Please.”

Rangi's heart constricted at the sound, and she looked away with a grimace, whispering, “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.” She tried unsuccessfully to smother her tears with her hand, her voice trailing off into a sob. “It shouldn’t have gone this way...”

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Kyoshi. Her friend closed her eyes tight, devastation written on every facet of her expression, her hands clenching into fists at her sides.

“I-I know... Yun would have been a much better—“

“No!” Rangi snarled, cutting her off, finally snapping. She'd had enough of Kyoshi's stupid, idiotic self-deprecation. “Forget Yun! Forget being the Avatar!” Rangi lost the battle to restrain herself, moving forward and slapping her in the face, right on the cheek. Hard. “It’s not supposed to be this way for you!”

Kyoshi jerked back, stunned into silence, staring down at her with something akin to betrayal, so Rangi took the initiative and spoke, her voice filling the quiet. “You think you don’t deserve peace and happiness and good things, but you do! You, Kyoshi! Not the Avatar, but you!”

Rangi couldn’t resist the urge any longer, finally walking forward and wrapping her arms around Kyoshi's waist and burying her face in her chest, both because she craved the contact, and to hide the evidence of her tears.

“Do you have any idea how painful it’s been for me to watch you on this journey where you’re so determined to punish yourself?” she whispered, her own voice breaking as she looked up at Kyoshi. “Watching you treat yourself like an empty vessel for revenge, when I’ve known you since you were a servant girl who couldn’t bend a pebble?" She shook her head, swallowing down the lump in her throat and wiping away the lingering tears angrily. "The Avatar can be reborn. But you can’t, Kyoshi. I don’t.. I don't want to give you up to the next generation. I couldn’t bear to lose you.”

Slowly, laboriously, Rangi felt Kyoshi’s arms encircle her tightly and bring her closer. Against her will, a small, contented sigh escaped her lips, her muscles releasing some of the tension she held so tightly, nuzzling into Kyoshi's embrace as much as she dared. They stayed like that for some time, until Rangi finally whispered hoarsely, “I wish I could give you your due... the wisest teachers. Armies to defend you. A palace to live in...”

Kyoshi chuckled, the sound warm with amusement and affection that made Rangi's face feel hot. “The Avatar gets a palace?”

Rangi couldn't help the wan, wet laugh that escaped her, the smallest hint of a smile curling her lips, then replied, “No.. but you deserve one.”

“I don’t need it,” Kyoshi said, a smile in her voice as she began to stroke Rangi's hair lightly. It was a sensation Rangi never knew she would enjoy as much as she did. “And I don’t need an army. I have you.”

“Psh. A lot of good I've been so far. If I were better at my job, you would never feel scared. Only loved. Adored by all.”

Kyoshi removed one of her hands from Rangi's waist and brought it up to the girl's chin, tilting it upward to look at her. The look upon Kyoshi’s face was a smile so warm it could melt the poles, and it made Rangi’s heart skip a beat. “I do feel loved,” Kyoshi whispered, her eyes full of a tender affection she'd never seen before. Rangi could only stare up at her beautiful face, heat blooming across her cheeks as her heart rate kicked up, starting to pound. Then Kyoshi did something she'd never once done before or expected, something that made her heart simply refuse to beat at all for a moment--she leaned in, closed the distance between them, and kissed her.

Rangi’s eyes went wide as Kyoshi pressed her lips against her own, as gentle as a summer rain. She slowly closed her eyes after the surprise wore off and allowed herself to enjoy the feeling of Kyoshi’s soft lips, enveloped in the warmth of her love's embrace, the feeling blissful and finally, after so long, it was happening--until a sharp pain blossomed on the side of her face, from her jaw, where she’d been punched. She winced and broke contact with Kyoshi, pushing the other girl away, grimacing in pain as she touched her jaw gingerly. After a moment, she glanced up, taking in the sight of Kyoshi in front of her. Her beautiful friend—or...whatever they were now—was standing where she’d been pushed. Her eyes were shut tight, and she looked like her world had been shattered. Rangi frowned, a sudden flash of concern striking her as she made to move forward and close the distance, when her mind connected the dots.

Kyoshi thought Rangi didn’t want her.

Rangi began to laugh, the irony of the situation not lost on her, and as a result, began choking on her own tears and mirth. She, who had been so worried about rejection, was witnessing the girl she loved spiral the exact same way. Kyoshi slowly opened her eyes, hurt and confusion flickering across her face before she looked away, forcing her expression back into carefully-schooled neutrality.

When Rangi finally caught her breath, she was almost certain that amusement was palpable on her face as she crossed the distance between her and Kyoshi, offering the smooth, unblemished side of her face and neck.

“That side of my face is busted up, stupid,” she whispered, her voice low and soft and amused, reaching up to tilt Kyoshi's face back towards her. “Kiss me where I’m not hurt.”

And that she did.

Chapter Text

Kyoshi was firebending. Without her fans. And she was good. Too good for a beginner. It irked Rangi. Since their escape from Chameleon Bay and the botched attempt at bending Rangi’s native element, Kyoshi had improved drastically—as though her emotional baggage had cleared enough for her to bend more easily. However, as soon as Rangi brought this up, Kyoshi deflected and insisted it was because of “how amazing it was to have Rangi as a sifu”.

“No.” Rangi insisted, balancing herself easily on the precarious beam of earth she’d had Kyoshi bend out of the ground. “It’s your emotional state.”

The beam was nearly six feet tall, and at the end of a winding shepherd’s path through the hills, leading away from a small village in the valley below. The two of them faced each other, eyes locked, each in a defensive position. Where Rangi was poised and centered, Kyoshi flailed and wobbled like a newborn baby turtle duckling, clearly having a hard time defending herself. They’d been running firebending forms and stances for nearly two and a half hours now, sparring here and there, Rangi drilling her girlfriend in positive jing, rather than negative or neutral jing—which forced her to attack and be on the offensive, as opposed to her usual approach of hunkering down and waiting for the attack to come her way.

“Of all bending disciplines, fire is the most affected by inner turmoil,” Rangi dictated, sending a flash of fire straight towards Kyoshi’s foot, causing her to pull it back with a yelp. “The fact that it's coming easier to you now means you’re feeling more relaxed and natural.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Kyoshi panted, her face red from exertion as she kicked her leg upward, sending a crescent of flame arcing through the air and straight towards Rangi.

“No! Why would it be?” Rangi snapped, losing patience with Kyoshi. She spun on the balls of her feet, effortlessly evading Kyoshi’s skilled, but rudimentary attack, sending a horizontal skirt of fire out towards her, right at Kyoshi’s waist-height. “You feel loose and breezy when you’re surrounded by daofei, about to risk your life for them in what’s essentially an act of treason against the Earth Kingdom?!”

Kyoshi didn’t answer, focusing instead on evading her girlfriend’s attack as she dropped to the ground, hugging the beam like a worm and allowing the fire to pass over her harmlessly. Rangi sighed through her nose, watching disapprovingly as Kyoshi jumped back up, breathing hard from the exercise.

“You’re firebending now.” Rangi continued, scanning the other girl for openings in her defense as she moved closer, fists held up and ready to strike. “Dare I say, you might even be good at it. There’s no reason to continue on this path. We could go to the sages right now and prove you’re the Avatar.”

She watched Kyoshi’s face change, the intense focus melting away into frustration and displeasure, her lips thinning into a line.

“Which ones, exactly?” Kyoshi argued, moving backwards in response to Rangi’s advancement, her eyes narrowing as her voice grew more snappish. “Because the only sages I know are the names from Jianzhu’s guest lists! Should we try Lu Beifong? The man who thinks of Jianzhu like his own son? Or maybe someone at the court of Omashu! Omashu is practically his summer home!”

Rangi slowly dropped her fists, guilt and confusion welling up in her as she looked away, voice dropping to a hoarse whisper. “We could go to my mother.”

Kyoshi faltered, dropping her own stance as well, her eyes flickering to Rangi’s, her expression turning guilty for a split second before she crossed her arms, frowning a little. “Do you really think she’d take our side over his?”

Rangi’s expression crumpled at the words, and after a long moment, she shrugged, the movement heavy and dejected. “I don’t know,” the girl whispered bitterly, turning away from Kyoshi and staring down at the ground. She missed her mother. Spirits, how she missed her mother. She used to tell her everything, and now… now she was just… gone. “I couldn’t be certain. I guess if we can’t trust my own mother, then… we can’t trust anyone.”

She heard the sound of movement behind her, and after a moment, felt Kyoshi’s arms wrap around her, pulling her back against the other girl’s chest. She sniffled, inhaling sharply a few times to calm herself down, allowing herself to lean into Kyoshi for just a moment.

“I’m sorry…” the taller girl murmured in her ear, the sensation sending a slight shiver down Rangi’s spine. “I’ve taken so much from you. I don’t know how to make it right.”

The firebender huffed, breaking free of Kyoshi’s hold as she wiped her nose, her voice slightly hoarse as she turned around, pushing her girlfriend away and scrupulously ignoring her own red eyes. She readied herself to attack, purposefully making her movements exaggerated and perfect for an opening Kyoshi could exploit. “You can start by promising me you’ll be a great Avatar. A leader who’s virtuous and just.”

Kyoshi’s expression changed, her face going half a shade paler as she backed away, waving her hands loosely and feebly, a mockery of firebending and a far cry from the decisive, controlled movements of that morning. However, before Rangi could grill or question her on why she was acting so strange, the voice of one of the most annoying people Rangi knew interrupted them.

“You two have been here all morning!” Kirima called from below, further down the trail as she came around the bend, arms crossed over her chest. “It’s my turn with Kyoshi.”

“Buzz off!” Rangi growled, far too emotionally high-strung and fraught with tension to bother tempering her responses to the woman. She turned towards her, sending a burst of flame directly overhead Kirima, who didn’t so much as flinch. The waves of heat illuminated her face from above, creating an effect that lit her face in golden hues—which was unfairly pretty, and it made Rangi even more annoyed. How dare this woman…  distract her, when she was trying to be angry!

“You’re not setting a very good example for the baby Avatar, Topknot. Too much rage will stunt her growth.” Kirima drawled, picking absentmindedly at her nails, wrinkling her nose at a speck of dirt before flicking it away and looking back up at her.

“Stop calling me that!” Rangi snarled, fuming. Her hands clenched into fists inadvertently, and she almost sent another blast of fire straight towards the woman, but was held back by the very last strings of her restraint that were holding on for dear life and begging for mercy.

“As you wish, my good Hotwoman,” Kirima snickered, flashing a mocking smile and pretending to give her an elaborate bow. “I’m coming back in five minutes.”

After she disappeared around the bend again, Rangi staring after her, still seething, Kyoshi coughed awkwardly, putting her hand on Rangi’s shoulder, causing her to turn back around to glare at the other girl.

“Did something happen between the two of you?” Kyoshi mumbled after a moment, taken aback by the venom in Rangi’s expression, shifting uncomfortably as she looked down at her.

Rangi stared up at her for a long moment, a tense, pregnant pause between them as she contemplated what to say, before scowling at her and crossing her arms over her chest, her voice flinty and curt. “Stance training.”

There was another pause.

Then, a petulant, complaining squawk from Kyoshi.

“We already did stance training!”

“Lek said you went berserk in the cave. We’re moving to two a day. Horse. Now.”

Kyoshi groaned, slowly forcing herself to slide into the rigid Horse stance, centering herself and lowering her waist. Rangi circled her, her expression dark and moody, eyeing her girlfriend critically for any visible weaknesses she could take advantage of. Finding none, she scowled even more, finally moving in front of Kyoshi and glaring up at her.

“Do—not—move.” Rangi warned, her voice sharp as she put her foot on Kyoshi’s bent knee, clambering up and forcing the other girl to maintain her balance on the narrow beam. Kyoshi made a noise akin to someone being strangled, her legs starting to tremble under Rangi’s added weight.

“I hate you so much!” Kyoshi screeched, her face twisting in a mixture of annoyance, panic, and pained resignation as her girlfriend scaled her like a poodle-monkey in a tree, wobbling precariously under the bodyweight of another person on her shoulders.

“The exercise is to maintain composure in the face of distraction! Now maintain!”

Finally, Rangi peeled herself off the taller girl, slipping to the ground silently and moving into Kyoshi’s blind spot, her voice low and dangerous. “I don’t want her teaching you waterbending.”

“Why?” Kyoshi responded, the relief evident in her voice as she was released from supporting Rangi’s weight. Well. Not for long. Rangi leapt forward, launching herself onto Kyoshi’s back, her hands digging into the other girl’s shoulders, clinging on to her. “Agh! Why!”

“There’s a proper order to training the Avatar,” she shot back, remaining tied to the other girl stubbornly despite how much Kyoshi wavered. “The cycle of the seasons. Earth, fire, air, water. It’s not good to deviate from that pattern. You have to master the other elements before water.”

“Again, why?” Kyoshi griped, her hands clenching so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

“Because! They say bad things happen when an Avatar tries to defy the natural order of bending. Ill fortune befalls them.” Rangi clung onto her, curling her legs around Kyoshi’s waist and forcing her to fully support all of her weight.

“I’m going to use every weapon I have at my disposal.” Kyoshi nearly fell, gritting her teeth as she readjusted to the newly added mass attached to her.

“I know. I can’t stop you from training with Kirima,” Rangi grumbled, finally releasing her girlfriend and dropping to the ground again, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s just that as soon as you start waterbending in earnest, our chance to do things the right way dies. Forever. It can’t be brought back.”

There was a moment of silence between them, and Rangi looked over to see Kyoshi’s face falling as she stared at the ground. Rangi sighed, moving closer to the taller girl and cupping her face in her hands, forcing her to look up at Rangi. “Come on, cheer up. I didn’t mean to send you into a spiral.”

“I can’t cheer up. I’m in Horse stance,” Kyoshi mumbled, avoiding Rangi’s eyes. True to her word, she had maintained the same grueling position for nearly ten minutes now. Rangi sighed again, gently tilting her head up to lock eyes with her as she slipped between Kyoshi’s outstretched arms, their chests pressed together.

“I like your focus,” she whispered, thumbing over Kyoshi’s cheekbone, her voice quiet and teasing, a small, sly smile curling her lips as she leaned down into Kyoshi’s space. “But let’s see if you can withstand... this.”

Rangi pressed her lips to Kyoshi’s, her hands sliding into her girlfriend’s hair. She felt Kyoshi stiffen, her knees going weak as she left out a muffled gasp, her hands automatically moving to ensnare Rangi around the waist—but Rangi pushed them away, forcing her back into position.

“Maintain,” she murmured against Kyoshi’s lips, pressing featherlight kisses against them, her hands pulling and twisting on the girl’s long brown hair, smirking as she heard the resulting whine. She moved back in, curling her arms around Kyoshi’s neck and melting against her like two alloyed metals.

At long last, she pulled away, still unable to wipe the faint, smug smile from her lips, sending one last whisper of heated air down Kyoshi’s robes, forcing herself to stifle a laugh at Kyoshi’s dazed expression—the poor girl looked like she’d been struck with shirshu venom.

“You still have seven minutes left to go,” Rangi murmured into her ear, patting her cheek lightly and flashing her one final smirk as she stepped back...

...training sessions had just gotten a lot more fun.

Chapter Text

“We have to do something!” Rangi hissed to her fellow members of the Flying Opera Company. “This is our fault!” 

“It might be our fault, but it’s definitely not our problem,” Kirima managed as she packed up her tent, her face ashen as she repeated the phrase to herself like a mantra. “It’s not our problem.”

The six of them had just broken out one of the most notorious Earth Kingdom criminals from jail. And it wasn’t just any criminal. It was Xu Ping An of the Yellow Necks. The man had been imprisoned for eight years. And now he was free. Because of them. It was definitely their problem.

“I don’t understand.” Lek frowned, his nose scrunched up in confusion as he watched Kirima with detached amusement. “Who is this Xu Ping An guy? Who are the Yellow Necks? I thought we were dealing with the Autumn Bloom.” 

“The Yellow Necks are business that we don’t want any part of,” Wong answered gruffly, arms crossed over his chest. “They’re not in this life for money or freedom. They take glee in pillage and destruction. They’re wanton killers. And Xu Ping An is their brains, heart, and soul.” 

“He was a bloodthirsty madman before he spent the last eight years locked up and dreaming about revenge,” Kirima explained, slightly out of breath from how hard she was working to pack up their camp. “We heard the stories. He used to call himself the General of Pandimu and claimed its residents were beholden to him for the protection he provided.”

Poor Lek’s face just scrunched up more, his brow furrowed as he scratched his head. “Where’s Pandimu?”

“Nowhere!” Kirima growled, frustrated that she was the only one packing up. “It’s the name for the world he made up himself! My point is he’s unhinged!”

“I don’t know how he’s alive,” Rangi whispered sharply to no one in particular, pacing in front of the campfire, clearly stressed. “I’ve read copies of reports sent to the Earth King by Jianzhu himself. Xu was listed among the dead at the Battle of Zhulu Pass. This doesn’t make sense!”

Kirima decidedly ignored her—which only infuriated Rangi more—instead keeping her attention directed at Kyoshi. “Look, they’re—what, a couple hundred strong now, at the most? Fewer, since the Kang Shen decided to dine on rocks? They’re not an army like they were in the past. We can simply wait until the governors summon a militia force to deal with them. I bet Te is the one who rides out to meet him.”

“That sounds perfect to me.” Lek shook his head, his expression unusually grim and dark. “The more dead lawmen, the better.”

“Xu first started out with smaller numbers than he has now!” Rangi snapped, her pacing beginning to wear trails into the dusty ground. “If more Yellow Necks come out of hiding and rally to his banner, we’re back to the dark days after Kuruk died.”

“We’re not back to anything!” shouted Kirima, throwing her hands up in the air. “Xu is the abiders’ problem! As far as we’re concerned, he’s a finished job! You don’t go back to a job you’ve already finished!”

“Years ago, I passed through a town caught in the wake of the Yellow Necks.” The calm, creaky voice of Lao Ge interrupted smoothly, but his expression was grim for once. No matter how crazed the old man was, even he knew the devastation of the Yellow Necks. “I saw what happened to the residents. They’d been..” His voice trailed off for a moment, shaking his head slowly as he searched for the right word, raising his hands and layering them above one another, “..stacked.”

Rangi felt sick to her stomach.

“We run away from trouble.” Kirima refused to be convinced—if anything, it seemed Lao Ge’s words had reinforced her already-iron will. “Not toward it. That’s our policy. It served us well in Chameleon Bay, it helped us survive in Huijang, and it’ll pay off here.”

“What do you think we should do, Kyoshi?” Lao Ge finally said, his voice oddly cold as he looked up at her in a way that made Rangi’s brow crease. “Given your newfound taste for making decisions of life and death?”

There was a pregnant pause, where Kyoshi sent Lao Ge a look that Rangi couldn’t decipher, her frown deepening as she looked between the pair.

“We wait and see what happens.” Kyoshi finally answered, an unusual heaviness to her voice as she stared out into the distance, seeing something none of them else could. “But we can wait from a higher elevation. Load up Pengpeng.”

Rangi looked around at the others, her eyes darting from each member of their company to catch their reaction, finally catching Kirima’s eye and for once, uniting with her in sharing a worried look.

They sat astride Pengpeng in the sky, looking down over the mostly-empty fields surrounding Te’s estate that were slowly being filled with more and more Yellow Necks. Lek sat at Pengpeng’s head, guiding the massive, gentle sky bison through the air, while Kirima stood upright in the saddle, waving her arms slowly to keep up the guise of being nothing more than a lonely cloud in the dappled blue-and-white heavens.

Rangi watched the slow-moving column of daofei , her eyes unfocused as she sat next to Kyoshi and Wong, her heart pounding like the steady beat of a drum. She was barely managing to tamp down the panic that threatened to burst from her chest, and it was drawing slow, shimmering cracks through her very being. They had just released Xu Ping An from prison, and now he was about to start his rampage all over again.

“I hope they’re heading for a militia outpost,” Lek grunted, his voice flinty as he guided Pengpeng closer towards the ground. “Then we could see a good dustup from here.”

Rangi may have grown up on the Sei’naka Islands, but since moving to Yokoya, she’d picked up a thing or two about farming. That was the only thing here, anyway—leagues and leagues of farmland.

“They’ve stopped by a rice field,” she muttered, fidgeting with her hands almost nervously—though she would never admit such a thing out loud—her voice low and confused. “Maybe they’re trying to pick it? The second harvest wouldn’t be ready though.” 

They all peered down at the other daofei from above, Rangi still shifting restlessly as she watched them move through the rice field and towards what looked like a nearby farmhouse. Suddenly, beside her, Kyoshi stilled, then froze entirely, inhaling sharply as she stared down at them. Rangi frowned, immediately alerted by the other girl’s behavior, reaching up to put her hand on Kyoshi’s arm in confusion and concern.

“I made a mistake,” Kyoshi whispered, her voice low and thick with panic. “We have to get down there. Now.”

Kirima paused her bending just long enough to make a squawking noise reminiscent of a possum chicken, shooting a tense, furious look towards Kyoshi. “What, exactly, are we going to do?”

“I don’t know!” Kyoshi hissed, her eyes wide with that same panic, her voice growing in volume and desperation. “But I can’t stay up here and watch anymore! Drop me off and fly away if you have to!”

Kirima cursed, slamming her fist against the saddle and releasing her waterbending, pulling their cloud camouflage into the hide waterskin she wore at her waist, condensing it again. “No. If you go, we go.”

“Once we hit the ground, we’ll follow your lead,” Wong added, steady as ever, his voice a low, reassuring rumble.

There was a sudden piercing scream from below, and everyone’s heads snapped towards the sound, instantly on alert. It seemed the occupants of the farmhouse had finally seen the Yellow Necks moving through their fields.

Lek groaned with affected annoyance, but did as Kyoshi had asked, wheeling Pengpeng around in the sky and guiding her towards the ground, descending as fast as he dared. Everyone grimaced, gripping the saddle in iron grips, the wind whipping their hair and roaring in their ears. Rangi felt a sudden deep gratitude, sending a thankful prayer to the spirits that had bestowed her with this wonderful girl, who cared enough about strangers to take on one of the deadliest threats the Earth Kingdom had ever faced. 

“Thank you!” Rangi did her best to shout over the howling gale. “You’re true companions of the Avatar!”

“What good is that if we’re dead?!” Kirima yelled back, but she had the slightest hint of a pleased smile on her face, and her cheeks were a little rosy—which, of course, could’ve solely been from the gushing wind.

As soon as they landed, Kyoshi was off, sprinting towards the farmhouse, moving surprisingly fast for someone of her height. Rangi bounded after her, not bothering to check if Kirima and the others were following, concerned only with protecting the girl she loved. And, of course, the Avatar.

She was instantly put on alert as the daofei jerked up in surprise, but soon relaxed as they realised who it was, settling back into their seats—the iconic makeup of the Flying Opera Company that they all still wore was immediately recognisable, putting all of the Yellow Necks at ease. Rangi, however, was not so easily convinced, all the more on edge as she followed Kyoshi into the farmhouse, keeping her eyes trained on the back of her lover’s head.

Kyoshi broke through the throng, Rangi close behind, taking in the sight before her: Xu Ping An, sitting calmly on a wooden bench in the far right of the room, reading a book that he must have taken from the house, as though it were the most normal day in the world. Behind him, Mok and Wai flanked the bench like irritating, ugly, and admittedly watchful spirits, standing guard over a middle-aged woman and a boy who couldn’t have been older than eight, who Rangi guessed was her son. They were dressed in simple garb common to Earth Kingdom farmers, but they were beaten and bloodied, pressed against the far wall and clinging to each other.

Rangi felt her anger flare as she took in the sight of the young child, but then her eyes fell upon the farmer himself, the boy’s father, and her blood ran cold. In the center of the room, there was a large, cheerfully crackling fire, and on top, a rendering cauldron—full of boiling water. Above it hung the farmer, bound, gagged, and trussed up like a chicken, held only by his wrists, which were tied to a pulley. On the other end of the rope, six or seven men held him steady above the cauldron, which was big enough that were they to release it, he would be completely submerged in the boiling liquid—his toes were already dipped into it, and the gag did nothing to stifle his raw, broken screams of pain and pleas for mercy.

Kyoshi darted forward in an instant, knocking the cauldron over with a sharp kick that sent water splashing towards the daofei holding the farmer aloft, the giant pot rolling slowly past them. They gasped, quickly fanning out to avoid the water as Kyoshi caught the man, gently setting him down on the dry ground as he twitched and whimpered quietly, shuddering in agony.

“You spilled my tea,” Xu Ping An commented dryly, as though making a remark about the weather, his expression slightly miffed as he continued to read his book. He licked his finger, using his thumb and index finger to turn to the next page idly.

The tightening of Kyoshi’s fists was the only warning Rangi got.

“Xu!” the taller girl bit out, her voice low but carrying throughout the near-silent room, “Stop this! Let them go!”

Rangi shuffled a little, hearing a rustle as Kirima and the others finally arrived as well, moving closer to Kyoshi as discreetly as she could until she was right by her side.

“First off, it’s Uncle Xu to you,” Xu said sharply, closing his book with an abrupt snap. “And second, this man is an abider. He worked for those who imprisoned me. He grew their grain and took their coin, which makes him another weight on the scales I must balance. If you can’t handle this, you’re not going to like what I do to the town of Zigan.”

“You don’t get Zigan,” Kyoshi snarled, her fists tightening to the point of her knuckles going white. “You don’t get any town in the Earth Kingdom, nor this farmhouse for that matter. You get the free air you can fit in your lungs, and nothing else.”

Rangi tensed, mentally preparing herself for a fight as she heard Kyoshi’s words and confrontational tone, her eyes snapping to the other daofei who were beginning to advance threateningly, swords held tightly in hand. Xu waved off his followers airily, his piercing amber eyes boring into Kyoshi in a way that made Rangi want to scorch his face.

“Kyoshi, was it?” Xu said smoothly, spreading his hands with a disarming, if condescending smile. “Kyoshi, I’m eternally grateful to you and your compatriots for rescuing me. But you’re young, and that’s why you don’t understand. Eight years of my life were stolen from me. Thousands of my followers. At your tender age, what would you know about that kind of injustice?”

“A lesser man might quit in the face of a setback that large,” he continued, shaking his head in theatrical sadness, before a benevolent smile spread across his face once more. “But not me. I relish the work, not the reward. I will get what I am owed.”

“The world is on the verge of forgetting my name,” Xu turned his attention back to his book, opening it once again and trying unsuccessfully to find his place again. “which means I didn’t carve the scars deep enough last time. I’ll do better with the second chance you’ve given me, Kyoshi.”

He waved airily towards Wai, who responded instantly like the good dog he was, shoving the farmer’s wife onto her hands and knees and grabbing her hair, yanking her head back and exposing her throat. He held his knife to the tender flesh, a thin line of blood appearing on the skin as the woman let out a hoarse, terrified scream.

Abruptly, something in Kyoshi seemed to snap.

“I SAID STOP!” Kyoshi roared, taking a threatening step forward, a sense of authority lacing her voice that was unusual for the girl. Wai immediately stilled, his eyes darting between Xu and Kyoshi, perhaps remembering the last time he had drawn his knife in her presence—and how it had ended.

Kyoshi raised her hand sharply, her hand coming to a stop right as she pointed directly at Xu, the gesture damning and accusatory.

“Xu Ping An! I challenge you to face me on the lei tai, immediately!”

Immediately, there was a wave of complete silence that swept throughout the room, the daofei stilling in place, as though a spell had descended upon all of them. The only sound to be heard were the faint whimpers of the farmer and his son, the woman deathly silent, one hand clasped around her throat.

Rangi sucked in a breath, her face going pale as she realised what Kyoshi had just done.

After a beat, Xu resumed his previous easy, open posture, reopening his book to its place, even humming quietly to himself, as if this whole situation were the most normal thing in the world.

“Challenges are meant to settle grievances,” Xu replied casually, licking the pad of his forefinger again. “What insult have I given you?”

“Your existence,” Kyoshi spat, her usually gentle voice filled with a venom that Rangi had never heard from her before. She wasn’t sure she liked it.

Again, Xu paid her no mind, despite the chorus of gasps coming from his men, continuing to read casually. “Bending or without?”

“Bending,” Kyoshi growled. “Weapons. Anything goes.”

“Very well then.” Xu smiled easily, finally setting the book aside and rising to his feet, rolling his shoulders and stretching as if he’d just taken a long nap. Before him, his men gave way, a swathe cut through them like a knife put to butter. “Let’s get this over with.”

“This was your plan?” Kirima hissed to Kyoshi as they all exited the farmhouse, moving through the rice fields. The arrangement was unequal—the six of them versus the hundreds of Yellow Necks standing across the makeshift lei tai platform currently being made.

“It wasn’t a plan so much as a thing that could have happened and did,” Kyoshi replied tersely, watching as the men shoveled the dirt into the air. “I noticed none of you tried to stop me.”

“There’s little else you can do,” Wong responded, his voice weary expression bleak. “Especially if you want to stop him from razing Zigan to the ground. It’s right next door, and the nearest Earth Kingdom army outpost is a five days’ march away.”

Rangi said nothing, staring ahead stiffly as the Yellow Necks continued making a raised platform out of the earth, knowing that she very well could be about to lose the girl she loved. All of a sudden, she tensed, feeling warm, strong arms enveloping her from behind, and Kyoshi leaned down, lips pressed to her temple, her voice a low murmur in Rangi’s ear. “I’m sorry I keep doing this to you.”

After a long moment, the smaller girl allowed herself to relax a little, leaning back into her lover with a muted sigh, basking in the affection despite the circumstances. “Today.. today you get a pass,” she muttered, her voice grim. “As the Avatar, you would have tangled with horrors like Xu on a regular basis. This might be the first time you’ve done your duty since we left Yokoya.”

The other girl huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking her head slowly and pressing a tender kiss to Rangi’s temple, causing a pleasant sort of flush to grow in her chest as she leaned back against Kyoshi. The taller girl opened her mouth to respond to Rangi’s little jab, but before she could, the hoary voice of Lao Ge interrupted.

“Kyoshi, can I speak to you for a moment?” the old man interjected, crossing his arms as he eyed the two of them with an expression Rangi couldn’t read. “In private?”

Rangi felt a flicker of confusion, her brow furrowing as the sweet moment was broken. She crossed her arms, ignoring the pang of disappointment and nervousness she felt as Kyoshi disentangled her arms from around her and trudged off out of earshot with Lao Ge.

“If anything happens, take Pengpeng and get out of here,” Kyoshi muttered under her breath to Kirima as she eyed Xu Ping An on the now-finished lei tai platform, smaller than the one Rangi had fought on in Huijang. “Find someone with the power to intervene before the Yellow Necks grow their numbers again.”

Rangi forced away the pit that formed in her stomach as soon as she heard the words “If anything happens”.

“What if it’s the Gravedigger?” Kirima asked, her voice too low to be heard by anyone other than Rangi and Kyoshi.

Rangi watched as the latter stilled, her eyes darting between the two other women, her mouth thinning into a line. She made no reply, instead reaching out towards Rangi and pulling her into one last, quick, one-armed hug, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze, before releasing her and climbing up onto the platform.

Rangi watched. She watched as Kyoshi readied herself to fight, watched even as she herself began to wring her hands instinctively out of fear for her lover’s safety.

“For the last time, Kyoshi,” Xu Ping An called as he stretched, almost sounding weary, or perhaps bored of the whole fight. “Are you sure about this?”

“You should ask yourself that question,” Kyoshi spat. “I think your kind has a little too much certainty.” 

Rather than Mok, Wai, or one of the other, more important officials of the Yellow Necks, an unnamed young man scurried forward, raising his hand unsteadily, standing nervously between the two combatants. 

Rangi watched. She watched as Kyoshi slipped into a stance Rangi had seen Wong teaching her a few times before, her fans spread and her eyes narrowed. Xu stayed loose and breezy, apparently preferring not to give away his advantage of unknown advances.

“Ready!” the young man—a boy, really—called out, his voice squeaky from nervousness and fear.

There was a long, tense pause.

Rangi watched. She watched as Kyoshi shifted her weight more securely to her front foot. She watched as Xu began to inhale through his nose, the faintest sound of alarm bells beginning to ring dully in the back of her skull as she studied his form.

Wait.

Wait.

That wasn’t an earthbending form—

“Begin!”

Rangi watched.

She watched as the young daofei chosen as referee dove off the platform to avoid getting struck.

She watched as Kyoshi inhaled herself, snapping her hands forward and preparing to strike with her earthbending.

And she watched, as if in slow motion, as Xu Ping An jabbed his arms forward, each hand outstretched in a two-finger blade, and lightning arced through the air, striking the girl she loved right in the heart.

Rangi screamed. She screamed until her voice gave out. She reached forward desperately, needing to get to Kyoshi, needing to see that she was okay, needing Kyoshi like she needed air to breathe.

Distantly, she felt hands holding her back, someone hissing in her ear, the desperate and shaken voice of Kirima saying things she couldn’t make out.

Rangi writhed in the other woman’s grip, tears beginning to pour from her eyes and roll down her cheeks, unable to do a thing as she watched her lover’s knees hit the ground, and then her head. She screamed again, a desperate, broken sound, collapsing to her knees as well, still reaching out imploringly for the other girl. “Kyoshi!”

She was forced to watch as Xu walked slowly over to Kyoshi’s prone form, which was somehow still moving sluggishly.

She was forced to watch as the foul creature sent yet another lightning bolt straight into the struggling girl’s back, tearing another desperate cry from Rangi’s throat.

“It didn’t have to be this way!” Xu shouted, gearing himself up for another strike. And strike her he did—three times, four times—“You had the greatest gift in the world! My respect. And you threw it away! For what?!”

Rangi screamed again, her voice nearly gone, as the older man kicked Kyoshi’s body, possibly already dead, so insistent on showing complete disrespect to her.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice how you’ve looked at me since last night,” Xu growled, “staring at me with condemnation in your eyes. What you don’t understand is that men like me are beyond judgement! I do as I will, and the world must bear my discretions with submission and gratitude!”

A fifth bolt.

“Stop!” Rangi screamed, on her knees, her vision so blurred from tears she almost couldn’t see straight. “Please stop!”

The woman she loved was dying.

The woman she loved was dying, and there was absolutely nothing Rangi could do about it.

Rangi collapsed to the ground, a low, keening wail building in her throat as she reached out blindly for Kyoshi.

She couldn’t see anymore.

Couldn’t breathe.

Kyoshi was dying. Nothing mattered anymore.

So she heard, rather than saw, the undignified screech that Xu let out as Kyoshi grasped his ankle, redirecting the flow of electricity back into his own body.

But she saw the light.

She saw as Kyoshi’s eyes ignited, the white light so bright it was nearly blinding.

She saw as Kyoshi rose up into the air, holding Xu Ping An by the collar, suspended by a swirling vortex of dust and earth.

Saw the daofei, their screams silent to her ears as they fled from the terrifying spectacle before them.

Saw as the rice stalks around the remaining Yellow Necks burst into flame, keeping them trapped and at the mercy of the full might of the Avatar.

Saw, and heard, this time, as Kyoshi spoke again.

But her voice was.. wrong. It was Kyoshi, but not just Kyoshi. It was.. layered, somehow. As if the voices of a thousand generations were speaking, singing through her, using her, molding her, and guiding her.

It filled Rangi with terror.

“You forget, Xu.” Kyoshi’s voice thundered across the valley, her eyes glowing a harsher, brighter white. A purifying, scourging light. “There is always someone who stands above you in judgement.”

Rangi felt, rather than saw, the hands of someone pulling her back, away from Kyoshi, into a small burrow of earth, a couple feet beneath the surface of the ground.

She paid them no mind, staring up at Kyoshi even as the stone covered them, transfixed with a mix of terror and horror.

“What will you do now?” The voice, the one that she knew, but was so very wrong, echoed throughout the land, even over the howling of wind and through the cover of earth Wong had bent over them. “Knowing that your every step will have consequences?”

Xu made no answer—or if he did, there was no way to hear it over the sound of Kyoshi’s bending.

After a long, tense few beats, where the only sounds were that of the daofei’s screams, and Kyoshi’s whirling vortex, there was a new, louder scream, the rushing of more wind, and—

A sickening crunch.

Rangi felt bile fill her throat as she remained frozen, staring up at the thick stone covering them, her face ashen.

Kyoshi had killed him.

She had killed someone.

At long last, the wind began to die down, and soon there was the low thud of someone’s feet touching down on the ground.

A few more beats of silence, then that horrible, wrong voice: “Begone.”

Eventually, Lek shifted in the small space, his own face pale as well as he spoke up, his voice low and terse. “Are you, uh, still possessed?” he hesitated for a brief second, before adding, “Or are you… you again?”

“Will you please just show yourselves?” Kyoshi’s voice again. Normal this time. Sounding tired, but alive.

She was alive.

After another tense beat or two, Wong finally released his earthbending, and the thick sheet of rock slid away to reveal them all, pale and shaking and covered in rock dust.

Rangi stared at Kyoshi. At the girl she loved.

The girl who had just killed a man.

She knew she looked terrible—tear tracks staining her dirtied face, her normally pristine hair hanging down in messy chunks and loose strands over her face as it came out of her topknot.

She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. She wanted to throw her arms around Kyoshi and never let her go.

She did none of those things.

She simply stared up at Kyoshi, her eyes wide and terrified, frozen in place.

Kyoshi stared back at her, swaying unsteadily, her expression slowly beginning to crumble as she looked down at the other girl.

“Don’t.. don’t do this,” she whispered, reaching out towards Rangi, her voice wobbly and hoarse and broken. “Please. If you act like this, I won’t be able to…”

Her voice trailed off, her expression devastated and agonised as she stumbled to her knees again, her eyelids fluttering as she almost collapsed.

Rangi snapped out of her trance, her eyes widening, aghast, as they fell to Kyoshi’s outstretched hand. Where once there had been whole, smooth skin, there was now raw, pink, burnt flesh, lichtenberg figures spread across the entirety of both appendages.

“Kyoshi, your hands!” Rangi cried out, her voice hoarse from screaming as she darted forward, her own hands reaching out to the taller girl as Kyoshi held her hands up in dazed confusion.

“We have to get her to a healer!” Kirima shouted, rushing forward as well, everyone’s attention immediately snapping back to Kyoshi’s wounds.

Lek was the first one who made it to her, somehow, slipping under one of Kyoshi’s outstretched arms and holding her up as best he could, his face red and expression tight from the strain.

“Kyoshi!” 

Rangi got there next, taking the brunt of Kyoshi’s body weight as the other girl crashed to the ground, keeping her head supported in Rangi’s lap.

“Kyoshi!” Lek yelled again, kneeling down worriedly beside her and Rangi, his hand moving to Kyoshi’s forehead.

Kyoshi stared up at all of them blearily, completely silent, never speaking, her expression almost entirely blank—except when she saw Rangi. She looked up at the smaller girl, and her eyes softened just a little, and she opened her mouth to attempt to speak..

…but passed out before she could, her eyes rolling back in her head as she lost consciousness.

Chapter Text

Rangi stared down at the Pai Sho table in front of her, her expression bored as she tapped her foot impatiently, waiting for Lek to make his move. She’d been toying with him, purposefully making mistakes to make him feel as if he had a chance.

It was a little entertaining, but she’d gotten bored fast. She sighed restlessly, staring at Lek as he stroked his chin like a magnanimous sage with a lengthy beard, his expression a mixture of intense concentration and imperious “wisdom”.

Hearing the sound of running water in the next room where Kyoshi had been staying, she glanced up, her heart skipping a beat as the water shut off, footsteps nearing the doorway.

Kyoshi opened the door, and instantly, a soft, delighted smile spread across Rangi’s face as soon as she laid eyes on the other girl, abandoning Lek’s failure of a Pai Sho game and rising to her feet, bounding over to her lover.

“You’re on your feet again,” she murmured, looking up at Kyoshi, her voice low and warm.

“I’ve been off them too long.” Kyoshi couldn’t suppress her smile as she gazed back down at Rangi, moving close and wrapping an arm around Rangi’s shoulders, causing the girl to let out a pleased hum at the casual affection. “I don’t feel right staying in the same town for so many days straight.”

“The rest of us agreed we weren’t going anywhere until you were a hundred percent better,” Lek interjected, looking pleased himself to see that the taller girl was well again as he rose to his feet, crossing his arms over his chest. “Kyoshi, you took a lot of… lightning bolts? Honestly, I don’t know how you’re alive.”

He looked over to Rangi, raising an eyebrow, his eyes narrowing as he surveyed her. “I mean, I’ve never met a Firebender other than you. Is that some kind of dirty trick you people pull to win Agni Kois or whatever?”

“No!” Rangi puffed up like a frog-squirrel, her smile instantly transforming to a scowl as she leaned against Kyoshi, glaring at Lek. “Bending lightning is a skill so rare that there are barely any living witnesses who can confirm it exists! And the reports don’t mention Xu was from the Fire Nation at all! Do you think I’d let Kyoshi walk into a fight without telling her everything I knew about her opponent?”

Lek waved his hands in the air, beginning to sprout some nonsense about how he wouldn’t know about a bunch of “namby-pamby Firebenders”, but Rangi just rolled her eyes, sulking as she busied herself instead with Kyoshi’s fingers, still draped casually on her shoulder.

She eyed them not-so-subtly, wondering what it would be like to feel them on her bare skin in the middle of the night, when—

“Oh, Kyoshi!” she gasped, finally noticing the myriad of new scars on her hands, reaching up to grasp it in her own, “Your hands!”

Kyoshi blinked down at her, broken out of her apparent reverie, then raised her hand from Rangi’s shoulder to hold it up to show that it was fully healed. “They feel fine.”

“But the scars..” Rangi murmured, intertwining her fingers with Kyoshi, her voice mournful as she brought the latter’s hand to her face, pressing her cheek into the slightly rough, callused palm.

“You had such beautiful hands,” Rangi sighed, nuzzling into it and pressing a series of gentle kisses to her palm that had Kyoshi’s ears flushing pink. “Your skin was so smooth and—”

Lek cleared his throat loudly, being sure to remind them of his presence, and Rangi cut herself off abruptly, scowling at the unwelcome interruption once more.

“I have an idea for that,” Lek announced, rolling his shoulders and pushing between them—right through them! No mind for personal space!—opening the door and striding out into the broad sunlight. “Come on, lovebirds. Let’s go shopping.”

The three of them strolled—strolled, when was the last time she’d done that?—through the open markets of Zigan, peering around at the different wares being offered. The merchants stared at the trio with open hostility and fear, though most of it was directed at Kyoshi. 

As much as Rangi understood why, it still irked her to see the way they looked at her girl. She didn’t deserve such treatment! She ought to be hailed as a hero! She’d just saved them from the Yellow Necks!

Rangi sighed, shifting to the side to walk a little closer to Kyoshi, their hands brushing. It was almost exhausting to be so angry all the time.

“Do I still have paint on my face?” Kyoshi muttered self-consciously, scratching her newly-scarred hands as she glanced around at the townsfolk, who were repeatedly shutting doors and windows every time they walked by. “Why are they looking at us like that?”

“Well, for starters, a lot of Zigan saw flashes of lightning and a pillar of wind and fire from your duel with Xu,” Lek explained, a small smirk lighting up the warm brown planes of his face. “And then some of the daofei passed through town as they fled, telling stories of a giant with eyes of blood who drank the soul of their leader. These idiots haven’t necessarily put together that you’re the Avatar. I heard one shopkeeper say you were a dragon in human form, which explained why you could fly and breathe fire.”

But I saved them from the Yellow Necks!” Kyoshi protested, drawing closer to Rangi as if to make herself smaller. Rangi supposed it made sense—what she lacked in size, she made up for in presence. And she would increase her presence tenfold if it meant protecting the girl she loved.

“Kyoshi, by a strict interpretation of the Code, you are now the leader of the Yellow Necks,” Lek laughed, shaking his head in genuine amusement as they made their way towards a small, ramshackle building at the end of the street. “Dr. Song’s no dummy, and it took a lot of begging to get her to think about helping you. She saw a daofei girl who’d challenged her elder brother for control of their gang and won. Face it, sister. You are dangerous.”

Rangi caught what he’d called her, a tiny smile spreading across her face despite herself. It seemed Lek was finally accepting Kyoshi, getting over their longstanding rivalry with each other.

They stepped into the building, which turned out to be a cramped, dimly-lit leatherworking shop. The smell of tanning hides made Rangi briefly wrinkle her nose a little, but she schooled her features back into neutrality—only to break out into another smile as she heard Kyoshi let out a tiny, startled gasp as a glove hanging from the ceiling brushed the taller girl’s face. What was wrong with her today? She couldn’t stop smiling. Get it together, Rangi!

The shopkeeper, an old, weathered man with wrinkled hands and an even more wrinkly face looked up, his expression neutral as he took the three of them in for a beat, giving each a nod, before turning back to the gloves in his hands.

“We’re looking for a pair of gloves for my friend,” Lek stated matter-of-factly, glancing around curiously at the dangling leatherware. “They’ll have to be big, of course.”

“I got one or two more, bigger, in the back,” the shopkeeper replied, his voice slow and measured as he gestured wordlessly up at the back wall, still not looking up from his work. Rangi got the impression that he was a man of few words. “But they’d be no good for regular wear. Not unless you figure on fighting a battle every day.”

There was a beat of silence as Kyoshi reached up, pressing her hand to the glove at the very end of the row, then shook her head—it was too small.

“I think… we should give it a shot,” Kyoshi answered, her voice unusually quiet in the tiny space.

The man nodded silently without complaint, shuffling around a bit and reaching towards a pile on the floor, rummaging around for a moment before pulling out a pair of thick, supple leather gloves, fastened to gleaming steel bracers. He handed them to Kyoshi, gesturing for her to try them on.

Kyoshi did so, pulling them onto her hands and fastening the straps, covering up the angry lightning scars that still marred her once-whole skin. They fit like a second skin, resting snugly on her forearms and hands, the polished metal reflecting the dim candlelight like a beacon.

“Made these for a colonel on the rise in the army a long time ago,” the leatherworker said quietly, as he surveyed Kyoshi’s hands critically, nodding his head once before returning to his work. His voice wasn’t sad, but just.. matter-of-fact. “Poor fellow died before he could pick them up.”

“They’re perfect,” Kyoshi murmured, her voice surprisingly somber in the quiet stillness of the shop. “What do we owe you?”

“Take ‘em,” the man grunted, not bothering to look up again from his work. “Consider it a gift for what you did.”

Kyoshi paused, her expression going through several unnameable emotions before finally settling on neutrality, and she stepped back, bowing so deeply her forehead nearly touched the floor, reminiscent of a servant’s kowtow.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice shaky with deep gratitude, hands clutched to her chest as she straightened up, head bowed as she turned on her heel and strode away.

Rangi was glad at least one person understood the truth of what happened.

“If only it were this easy to find shoes that fit,” Kyoshi grumbled as they walked down the street, still in high spirits from the kindness of the old man. She pulled one fan out from her sash, pointing it imperiously at a tiny pebble on the ground and levitating it slowly into the air as if she were commanding an army, and Rangi snorted in amusement as she watched it clatter to the ground, Kyoshi looking unreasonably pleased with herself.

“It’s better than being short and skinny,” Lek complained, his voice morose and a scowl on his face as he crossed his arms. “If I was your size, I’d be ruling my own nation by now.”

Rangi snickered again, sidling closer to him and squeezing his arm teasingly, getting a little closer to him than was probably necessary.

“Aw, cheer up, Lek!” she murmured, her voice sing-song as she walked her fingers slowly along his bicep, their faces inches apart. She’d seen him looking at her. Kyoshi may have been the one for her through and through, but she’d still tease him a little. “You’ll fill out soon. You have good bone structure.”

Lek went as red as the feathers of a dragon hawk, trying unsuccessfully to push Rangi away, but she just clung on tighter, her smirk growing as the color in his cheeks deepened and she caught sight of a grumpy frown forming on Kyoshi’s face.

“Cut it out!” Lek whined, trying unsuccessfully to hide his very obvious blush. “It’s not funny when—agh!”

Rangi gasped, her eyes going wide as she stumbled, falling to her knees in the middle of the street, still clutching Lek’s arm in a vice grip. Her vision began to go dark as she swayed unsteadily, her muscles refusing to work properly the way she ordered them to, a stinging sensation growing from the back of her neck and turning her limbs to putty.

“Wha—” Rangi started, her voice slurred and shaky as she fell into the dirt, her eyelids fluttering as she hazily watched the silhouettes of Lek and Kyoshi above her.

She heard a loud yelp, and there was the sound of scuffling boots on the dusty ground, a few sharp ping, ping, pings of metal hitting metal, before two more bodies collapsed onto the soil beside her, just out of arm’s reach.

Rangi grunted, an animalistic sound, trying to crane her neck to see her friends, but before she knew it, there was the sensation of rough hands dragging her across the ground, away from Lek. Away from Kyoshi.

Just her.

She tried to break free, tried to fight the effects of the toxin working its way through her veins, but it was ineffective. She watched helplessly as she was pulled away from her friends and family, watched as Lek’s face began to turn red and puffy, as he struggled for breath.

Watched as Kyoshi lay motionless on the ground, panicked alarm bells ringing dully in the back of her head before she finally slipped into unconsciousness.

Rangi awoke with a pounding headache, letting out a low, pained groan, her hands instinctively attempting to move to her head. She frowned when she couldn’t move them, her eyes slowly blinking open as she returned to wakefulness.

She was in a small, cramped, earthen room with no windows, the only source of light coming from the tiny, dim candle in the corner, which sat on a small wooden table with a single unoccupied chair pulled up to it. She turned her head sluggishly, her brow furrowed in confusion and pain as she realised she was chained to the wall, a large iron ring holding her in place.

There was a shuffling sound from the darkest corner of the room, causing her to whirl around and stare upwards as none other than Jianzhu strode forward into the light, flanked by two mercenaries, each clasping a sharp, curved dao blade that gleamed wickedly in the low light.

“Rangi,” Jianzhu greeted her cordially, offering her a polite smile, as if they were just two guests casually meeting by chance at a dinner party, and she wasn’t the victim of a kidnapping. “You look well.”

The statement was clearly sarcastic, but with what little cognitive function Rangi still had left from the poison coursing through her veins, she could tell that the same couldn’t be said for him. He was hunched over and thin, and deathly pale, with dark circles under his eyes, clearly having lost far too much weight in far too small a time. He looked like he’d aged ten years since they’d left Yokoya that fateful night.

Rangi mustered as much strength as she could, rising to her knees as she glared up at him, her voice still slightly slurred and broken, stumbling over her words.

“Wh-Where is Kyoshi?” she managed, swaying unsteadily as she narrowed her eyes at him. “Where am I? What have you—what have you done to me?”

Jianzhu smiled humorlessly, hobbling over to the chair and pulling it out from under the table, turning it towards her. He sat down in it, letting out a low sigh of relief as the strain was taken from his back muscles, some of the lines in his face easing.

“Kyoshi’s whereabouts are of no importance to you.” Jianzhu fished a small, tempered steel knife from his belt, toying with it skillfully, the silvery blade winking in the candlelight. “What is of importance to you, and coincidentally, me, is why you would allow the Avatar to leave her master and guardian. You were trained to be the Avatar’s bodyguard. To protect her, yes, but also to listen to superiors. Which, I fear, you have not done since you left Yokoya, indulging in whatever escapades that child desired.”

The man crossed his legs, flipping the small knife over in his hands, leaning back in his chair and looking every bit the father figure Rangi had once seen him as.

“Rangi,” Jianzhu continued, finally raising his head to properly look at her, his head cocked to the side like he was curiously examining a strange bug. “Rangi, I heard a few very strange things about those escapades.”

He shifted a bit, seeming to think for a moment, his brow furrowing as if he were concerned for Rangi’s wellbeing—a fact she knew would never be true.

“Rangi,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a low, concerned timbre that once would’ve made Rangi feel seen and appreciated, but now only made the hair on the back of her neck raise, “I’ve heard that the Avatar’s escapades involved daofei.”

Rangi’s mouth went dry, her eyes widening as she struggled to form thoughts, her mouth opening and closing wordlessly, her brows furrowing. How… does he know that?

“Of course,” Jianzhu continued, seemingly oblivious to Rangi’s inner turmoil, shaking his head with a knowing smile, “I knew that wasn’t true. The Avatar may be a wild child, but I knew she had the most disciplined, structured bodyguard she could ever need. I knew that you would keep her safe. Safe and out of trouble, keeping both her honor, and yours intact.”

Oh.

Oh.

An odd mixture of pride and shame began to well up in her chest, and she fought in vain against the heat that began to bloom across her cheeks, determined not to let his words poison and cloud her mind.

He’s right, though.

Her brow furrowed again, and she shook her head, trying to clear the thoughts away.

You were supposed to protect the Avatar.

You were supposed to protect Kyoshi.

She gritted her teeth, her hands fisting behind her back as she struggled against her restraints, her eyes narrowing up at Jianzhu.

You were supposed to protect her honor.

Jianzhu’s smile widened infinitesimally before he turned his attention back to his knife, watching as the light ran down the length of the blade.

“Rangi is strong, I said,” his voice carried throughout the small room, the two mercenaries—now on either side of her—shifting a little restlessly, their blades still held out defensively in front of their bodies. “Rangi will do her duty, I said. She’ll protect the Avatar and keep her away from danger, I said.”

His smile faded away as he turned back to her, leaning forward with an unusual expression on his face, one that Rangi had never seen—not anger, or frustration, but rather… disappointment .

She hated it.

“So imagine my surprise,” the man murmured, his brow furrowing in that way that Rangi’s mother would do when she looked down at a misbehaving student, “when I found out that the Avatar was running around in a previously unknown town, called Huijang, which was not only overrun with daofei, but also a daofei settlement.”

He shook his head slowly, rising to his feet again, stowing the little knife in his sash again as he walked over to her, kneeling down to get onto her level, his voice low and somber.

“Why was the Avatar involved with daofei, Rangi?”

Her cheeks burned with shame, and her lip trembled, but she fought valiantly to maintain eye contact with him, trying desperately to ignore his words.

You’re a disgrace.

You’ve brought shame upon the Sei’naka family.

Your father would be disappointed in you.

You are a mockery of a Fire National.

You have no honor.

“I’m very disappointed in you, Rangi.”

It was the straw that broke the camelephant’s back, tears welling up in her eyes as she tried desperately to blink them away, her head hanging despite the shackles keeping her chained to the wall.

Jianzhu tsked quietly, raising his hand to cup Rangi’s chin with all the tenderness of a loving father, bringing her head back up so that he could look her in the eyes.

“It’s all right to cry, Rangi,” Jianzhu murmured, his voice soothing and gentle, tucking a fallen strand of hair from her topknot behind her ear, the gesture somehow both comforting and also filling some distant part of her with revulsion. “Do you know what we do when we make mistakes? We fix them. We do whatever it takes to fix our mistakes and regain our honor.”

You can fix the problem.

How can I when I’m the problem?

You can regain your honor.

…I can regain my honor?

His words—his lies, she had to remember—curled through the air and wormed their way into her ears like twisting smoke, his voice a sweet, honeyed balm against the raging tempest of her thoughts.

“All you have to do…”

I’ll do it!

Just tell me what to do!

I can be good enough!

I’m good enough, I swear!

“...is help me bring the Avatar home to Yokoya.”

Rangi stilled.

Jianzhu cupped her cheek, giving her a beatific smile that reminded her of her father Junsik.

No.

No.

It was a mockery of Junsik.

Rangi spat in his face, glaring at him through her tears, her jaw clenched as she managed to choke out, “I would—I would never—help you!”

Jianzhu reeled back, dropping Rangi’s face, his smile twisting instantly into an ugly scowl, his lips curling into a furious snarl. “How dare you—!”

Rangi’s own mouth curled into a grim smile despite her tears, her voice low and venomous as she stared the man down, her vision still slightly blurry. “Kyoshi is strong. Stronger than you. So much stronger than you’ll ever know. And she doesn’t lie! Not like you. I know what you did. You killed Yun and Master Kelsang! I will never help you!”

Jianzhu stormed forward, grabbing Rangi’s topknot roughly and forcing her head back, his face twisted with cold, hard rage, his voice shaking with anger. 

“Is that what you think?!” he snarled, shaking her by the hair until she couldn’t hold back the pained cry that bubbled up from her throat, her vision growing so blurry with tears that even the outline of Jianzhu was difficult to make out. “That I killed them? Is that what lies that damned child has been spreading?”

He let out a growl low in his throat, throwing her to the ground as he pulled his knife out again, gesturing sharply to the hired guards on either side of her. “Hold her!” 

She cried out again as the two men complied, bending down and grabbing her biceps, preventing her from moving as he stalked forward, the blurred outline of the knifeblade shining in the dim lighting.

“I did not kill anyone,” Jianzhu hissed, grasping her topknot, hard, and forcing her head back, hair pulled taut, his eyes narrowed as he leaned down into her personal space, their faces inches apart. “I still have honor. You, on the other hand.. you will not be able to say the same.”

Before Rangi was able to ask what he meant, he raised the knife, and without pretension or ceremony, he slashed downwards, Rangi flinching in preparation for his strike.

Only, it never came.

Not to her skin, at least.

There was the sound of hair shearing away, and suddenly Rangi felt a sudden weight gone from her head, the grip that Jianzhu had on her head vanishing instantly.

A faint realisation thudded dully in the back of her head, but her mind was still too clouded by pain and the remainder of whatever poison had been in the darts still coursing through her veins.

She looked upwards, hazily registering through the fog that Jianzhu held something in his hand, blinking slowly as she tried to figure out what it was through the tears that obscured her vision.

Her vision slowly cleared, and a shiver ran down her spine as she felt the faint breeze from rustling clothes on her head.

Wait, what?

Her eyes flickered towards Jianzhu’s hand, her brow furrowing more and her horror slowly growing as she felt another faint brush of wind against her scalp.

Jianzhu was holding… her hair?

Her topknot.

Her topknot.

That’s what he meant.

No honor.

Her topknot.

The representation of her honor.

A low, terrified whine began to grow in Rangi’s chest as she struggled frantically against her captors and chains, writhing in their grip, trying to get free of them to hold her hand to her head.

He’d taken her honor.

===TW===

She thrashed, trying to hold her hand to her head, to cover herself, to cover her shame, but Jianzhu simply gazed down at her as he smoothed down some of his own hair, returned to an eerie stillness after his outburst, like the calm before the storm.

“It didn’t have to be this way, Rangi,” he murmured softly, slipping the knot of her hair into a small bag at his waist. “You brought this upon yourself.”

He shook his head slowly and sighed, turning his back on her and moving towards the closed door, his words seeming to echo throughout the tiny room and Rangi’s mind.

“Have your way with her.”

The last thing she saw was the green of Jianzhu’s robes covering his back as he exited the room, and the matching, cruel smiles of the guards closing in on her before she succumbed once more to darkness.

===TW===

When Rangi next awoke, there was a low ache present everywhere in her body, but especially her head. She was shivering, able to make out the foggy little cloud her breath made in the freezing air.

She tried to reach for her fire, the ever-present warmth that fueled her, constantly burning in her bones and breathing its golden life into her, but it was to no avail.

She couldn’t feel her own bending.

She was clad in a simple white shift, her own clothes nowhere to be seen, and there was dried blood on her head where the knife had grazed her hair.

Her hair.

Her topknot.

Her honor.

Her honor was gone.

She couldn’t help it; couldn’t stifle the raw, anguished sob that built up in her throat as she pressed her face into the cool stone floor, tears streaming down her face.

She wanted Kyoshi.

Oh, how she wanted Kyoshi.

She lay there for what felt like hours, weeping, grieving for what she’d lost, for what she may never have again if Jianzhu got his way.

She was prone on the stone brick floor, her cheek pressed into the rough surface, her tears slowly creating a damp imprint around her head like a pool of blood. She didn’t move save her chest and occasionally her eyes, taking in what little information she could.

She was in vaguely familiar stone halls, the only light a distant bit of candlelight down the corridor visible through the bars of her cell, too far to reach with her bending. After a while, she distantly registered that she was in the Avatar’s Estate, back in Yokoya, in the subterranean prison set up by Jianzhu for dangerous criminals. She and Yun had stumbled on it one day while exploring the bowels of the mansion.

Dangerous criminals.

She supposed that was what she was now.

You’ve been running around with daofei for weeks now.

You’re nothing more than filth to be crushed beneath the boots of law-abiding, honest citizens.

How far have you fallen?

Your mother would be so disappointed in you.

She flinched as the last thought entered her mind, another low sob building in her throat as she curled up on her side, pressing her face again into the cold, unforgiving stone.

She had no idea how long she laid there, wasting away.

It could’ve been hours.

It could’ve been days.

The next time she properly remembered anything besides grey, unending nothingness of stone walls pressing in around her, it was faint sounds from above—shouting and the rumble of footsteps overhead, as though there were an intruder. Perhaps a scuffle of some kind.

Rangi felt a distant blossom of hope, small and infinitesimal, somewhere in her gut. Maybe it was Kyoshi.

But no.

She brushed the thought away, squeezing her eyes shut. She refused to hope. Hope had already taken too much from her.

Overhead, there was a loud thud, and the thundering of more footsteps overhead, a few guards shouting here and there.

Rangi ignored it.

Finally, there was a loud crash, much closer this time, and this time the footsteps started heading towards her.

Still she did not move.

There was a loud shout of her name, from a voice Rangi distantly recognised.

“Rangi!”

It wasn’t Kyoshi.

Rangi remained motionless.

“Rangi!”

No response.

At last, the thundering footsteps came to a halt outside her cell, but still she did not move, staring silently at the wall.

“...Rangi?”

There was a loud clanking sound, the sharp squeal of metal-on-metal that set her teeth on edge, and a few more footsteps, before a warm hand was placed on her back, a stark contrast to the cold stone around her that she had grown used to.

“Rangi,” Kirima whispered again, her face going pale as Rangi didn’t respond. Wong stood behind her in the doorway, his own face cast into sharp relief by the torch he held in hand.

If either of them noticed her hair, they said nothing, which Rangi was distantly grateful for.

Kirima gently rolled the motionless girl onto her back, her expression turning relieved as she took in Rangi’s chest slowly moving up and down.

Rangi looked up at her dully, the light gone from her eyes as she took in her companions.

“Rangi?” Wong spoke up, his deep, rumbling voice heavy with concern and confusion as he stepped closer, the flickering firelight calling to her like a moth drawn to a flame. She stared up at him blankly, her eyes scanning him briefly, but didn’t say a word.

Wong frowned, but stepped forward, handing off his torch to Kirima, his voice low and reassuring as he kneeled down beside her. “It’s okay, Rangi. You’re safe now.”

She didn’t respond.

Wong paused for a moment, waiting to see if she would speak, before sighing heavily, simply bending down and scooping her up into his arms as if she weighed no more than a baby, her head thudding against his chest limply.

The three of them made their way out of the underground dungeon, Rangi staring ahead silently, refusing to speak, her voice refusing to work.

She had no tears left to cry.

Kirima kicked the door open again, her hands already encased in ice, ready and prepared to defend the two of them if need be—but there was no one there. The halls were eerily silent, near-abandoned, a mere shadow of their former bustling glory.

Wong clutched her to his chest, looking down at her, his voice gentle. “Rangi, do you know where your belongings are?”

She made eye contact with him again, just barely managing to shake her head, still unable to make herself speak. Wong seemed to understand, his round face becoming set with determination.

“Guess we’ll just have to bust down every door in this place until we find ‘em,” Kirima said in her usual dry rasp, shooting her that signature smirk Rangi had grown to hate. For once, it was a miniscule, welcome comfort, and though she couldn’t muster the strength to smile, she nodded her head once.

The Avatar’s mansion could burn for all she cared.

Kirima and Wong both did exactly what they had said, kicking down doors and sending columns of earth and ice through them, searching each one they came across for Rangi’s belongings that she had been taken with.

At last, they broke down the final door in that corridor, the wood snapping under the weight of Kirima’s icy barrage, into a calm, still, undisturbed room. It was full of row after row of empty beds, and inside, a servant girl was cowering against the wall, her face white with fear as she took in the destruction the two benders had caused.

Rangi took in the scene with a faint twinge of guilt, her eyes scanning the room quickly—before doing a double take, her eyes widening in a mix of shock and horror, the first real emotion she’d felt besides devastation.

Her mother.

Her mother lay motionless in one of the tiny cots, much like her daughter had done minutes before, her face ashen and her chest rising and falling slowly.

Without thinking, she pushed on Wong’s chest, startling him and forcing him to let go of her. She dropped to the floor in an unceremonious heap, uncaring that her clothes became dirtied. She scrambled to her feet, rushing towards her mother and falling to her knees again despite her best efforts, her hands moving to cup her mother’s face.

“Mother..” she breathed, speaking for the first time, her voice low and hoarse. “Mother, I—Mother, I’m so sorry, please… please, Mother, wake up—!”

The three other people in the room stared at her in silence, one terrified, the other two sympathetic. After a moment, Kirima stepped forward again, placing her hand on Rangi’s shoulder.

“Rangi… we need to go,” she murmured, her voice soft and uncertain.

Rangi looked up at her, tears brimming in her eyes once more as she shook her head, wrapping her arms around her mother and pulling her close to her chest. She’d been wrong. She’d been very, very wrong. She definitely had enough left in her to cry.

“Kirima, she’s my mother!” Rangi cried out, burying her face into her mother’s hair like she was a child again, rocking her back and forth on the bed. “I can’t just leave her! I already did once, and look what happened to her!”

Kirima shook her head, kneeling down beside the girl, brushing her newly-cropped hair away from her forehead. Rangi flinched like she’d grazed an open wound, more tears welling up in her eyes as she leaned away from Kirima’s touch. The older woman sighed, her voice gentle as she rested a hand on Rangi’s shoulder.

“No one’s saying we leave her, all right?” Kirima whispered, rubbing her back gently. “We can take her with us. But you have to be able to walk on your own, okay? Wong can’t carry you both, and I have to focus on getting us out of here. We can’t stay.”

Wong nodded in agreement, stepping forward to scoop Hei-Ran into his arms, much the same as he had done with Rangi, wrapping the sheets around her prone form and cradling her head in the crook of his elbow. “She’ll be all right with me. Can you stand on your own?”

Rangi nodded quickly, wiping away her tears and stumbling to her feet, her legs wobbling unsteadily, but supporting her. Kirima breathed a quiet sigh of relief, grabbing the younger girl’s hand and quickly pulling her out of the infirmary, into the hall again. “Good. Forget your belongings—we can come back for them later. We need to go.”

Rangi allowed Kirima to lead her, feeling numb. Her mother was comatose. Her mother.

Her mother was supposed to be unstoppable.

So what had Jianzhu done to lay such a powerful woman so low?

An involuntary shudder ran through her at the thought of the man, and she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, just letting herself follow Kirima blindly.

Eventually, they reached the stables, Pengpeng pacing around agitatedly, letting out a plaintive rumble as they neared. Rangi opened her eyes again, forcing her body to move, to climb up onto the sky bison’s broad back, feeling a twinge of confusion as they lifted off the ground into the sky.

She looked around at her companions, at her still, silent mother, and her brow creased, her voice unsteady and shaky as she managed to speak. “Wait.. we’re.. we’re missing someone. Where’s… where’s Lek?”

Wong and Kirima both froze, their eyes flickering towards each other, then back towards her.

Her brow creased further, and she looked between the mansion that was quickly getting smaller and smaller in the distance, and the pair of them. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

She made to grab Pengpeng’s reins from Kirima, but failed as the waterbender kept them out of her reach, falling to her hands and knees again. “Wh—stop! What are you doing? We have to go back for him! We left him!”

Wong gently put his hands on her shoulders, pulling her back from Pengpeng’s head where Kirima guided the giant animal, his voice low and barely audible over the rush of wind as he prevented her from taking the reins. “Lek is.. Lek is gone.”

Rangi stilled, her whole body going slack in Wong’s grip as she stared at the back of Kirima’s head, whose own shoulders were beginning to shake silently. “I—what?”

She shook herself free of Wong’s grasp, grabbing Kirima’s shoulder and trying to get her to turn Pengpeng around—only to see silvery tears pouring down the waterbender’s cheeks, stopping her short.

Kirima nodded her head, confirming it was true, her eyes flickering up to Rangi’s. The two of them stayed like that for a long moment—until Rangi’s legs finally gave out from underneath her, a low, devastated sob tearing itself from her throat as she collapsed into the saddle.

So much.

She had already lost so much.

Not Lek.

She couldn’t lose him too.

Not the only brother she’d ever known.

She was enveloped by warm, strong arms, her face pressed gently into Wong’s chest as he held her, his own tears running down his face. After a few moments, Rangi felt Kirima join them, the three of them embracing on Pengpeng’s back, mourning the loss of their brother together.

Pengpeng landed a few hours later outside Qinchao Village, a dirty, rundown place with ramshackle, dilapidated buildings that looked like they’d fall over with a gust of strong wind.

Rangi remained pressed into Wong’s side, refusing to leave the big man or risk letting go of Kirima. She refused to lose another person in so short a time.

They were positioned in a large clearing, Pengpeng rolling around happily in the overgrown grass, oblivious to the pain her companions had just suffered. From their location, Rangi could see an old, dead tree, a rusted chain draped around its bent limbs. The remnants of what could’ve once been a sign hung sideways off the trunk, crooked and warped.

After a few long, painstaking minutes, a tall, broad-shouldered figure appeared from the bowels of the village, clad in green and wearing the unmistakable colors of the Flying Opera Company.

In an instant, Rangi let go of both Kirima and Wong, sprinting top speed across the field, straight towards Kyoshi, wanting—no, needing to see her, feel her, be held by her.

She barreled into the taller girl, throwing her arms around Kyoshi, a ragged, desperate sob bubbling up from her throat yet again as her lover finally, finally held her, pulling her close to her chest and rubbing her back soothingly.

“Kyoshi, my mother,” Rangi whimpered into the fabric of Kyoshi’s robe, unable to stop her whole body from trembling, her voice shaking with terror and exhaustion. “We found her in the infirmary like this. I don’t know what happened to her. I abandoned my mother! I left her, and this happened!”

Her voice broke, and she wrapped her arms around Kyoshi’s neck, her sobs turning into full, body-shaking wails that didn’t stop even when Kyoshi scooped her up into her arms, running her hands over her back.

“She’ll be all right,” Kyoshi whispered, rocking her back and forth as she slowly slipped down to sit on the ground, her back pressing against the dead tree. “I swear she’ll be all right. We’ll do whatever it takes to fix her.”

Rangi couldn’t find it in her to reply, simply burying her face into the crook of her lover’s neck and continuing to sob until she physically couldn’t anymore, feeling wrung out of moisture like a wrinkled raisin left to dry in the sun. Kyoshi continued to stroke her back, offering comfort in the only way she knew how, before moving one hand to her head, brushing her fingers over the crop of fuzz left from where her topknot had been so carelessly shorn from her head.

The firebender flinched like she’d been struck, pulling back from Kyoshi’s embrace to turn her face away, her voice hoarse and congested. “I should be wearing a sack over my head so you can’t see me like this.”

Kyoshi inhaled sharply, her hand moving to cup Rangi’s cheek, oh-so-gently, her brow pinched as she brushed her thumb over the smooth porcelain skin. She opened her mouth to speak, but perhaps thought better of it—though she didn’t need words, as her face said all that it needed to already—which was just as well, because Kirima, Wong, and Lao Ge (where had he been this whole time?) were just coming closer.

“The operation succeeded, obviously,” Kirima said matter-of-factly, though her voice was still hoarse from crying all the way there. “Once you’ve rescued one person from the bowels of a powerful Earth Kingdom official’s personal dungeon, you’ve rescued them all. You were right. Jianzhu didn’t seem to expect that you’d have us on your side. Made things a bit easier.”

“I may have helped myself to some valuables on the way out,” Wong rumbled, and Rangi could feel Kyoshi tense a little as she continued to rub the smaller girl’s back soothingly.

“Was there a struggle?” Kyoshi murmured, her voice low and quiet so as not to bring Rangi any more distress.

“No one’s dead,” Wong assured her quickly. “But I had to get information the old-fashioned way from some mercenaries dressed in guards’ clothing. I may have gone a little overboard. I don’t regret it.”

There was a lull in the conversation, in which Rangi simply burrowed herself deeper into Kyoshi’s embrace. When Wong spoke again, however, she could hear the sound of a smile in his voice. “The Gravedigger took one of ours. I wasn’t going to let him take another.”

Rangi flinched again at the mention of Jianzhu, shuddering silently as more tears poured down her cheeks.

“Speaking of which, where is he?” Kirima asked quietly. “Is it… is it over?”

There was a long silence between the five of them, broken only by the sound of Rangi’s soft, muffled sniffles.

She prayed it was over. That Jianzhu was dead.

Both for her sake, and for Kyoshi’s.

It was over.

It had to be over.

Chapter Text

As soon as Rangi heard the tolling of the bells, she knew it was time.

She bolted up from her bed, instantly on high alert, ignoring her mother’s previous instructions to rest and await further instruction. She headed towards the window, opening it and sticking her head out, and—sure enough, there in the distance was the massive form of a sky bison flying straight towards the palace.

She nearly threw herself out the window and jet-stepped to the ground, before remembering that a First Lieutenant had to have some kind of decorum in her home country. She slammed the window shut, not caring enough to be gentle as she dashed towards the door, throwing it open and moving out into the hall.

She raced down the corridor, sidestepping servants who shrieked in surpise, slipping past other Fire Nationals and nobles who appeared supremely ruffled by her hasty excursion, ignoring the shouts from all that she left in her wake.

She was going to see Kyoshi today.

It had been more than a year since Rangi had gotten to see her beloved; nothing was going to stop her now.

She burst through the doors into the palace courtyards, breaking the still, serene silence and causing a flurry of turtleducks to quack loudly in alarm, spreading their wings and flapping away. Rangi paid them no mind, sprinting at top speed toward the main gate, leaping over stones and interrupting the opulent garden parties of nobles.

She really needed to find a better way to get places quickly.

At last, the grand, fortified gate came into view, and Rangi put on a final burst of speed to reach it before the bison touched down, skidding to a halt right as she heard the signature rumble of the giant animal, directly under the singular blind spot in the wall.

“Do you know where we’re supposed to touch down?” She heard an unfamiliar voice ask as the wide shadow on the ground got nearer and nearer, barely audible over the rush of wind. “I’m a little wary of flying over the wall. I’m guessing that families who own mounted crossbows tend not to like that sort of thing.”

“The main gate, but not too close,” Kyoshi’s voice just barely eclipsed the sound of the bison giving another weary growl, and Rangi felt her heart leap into her throat. Finally , after so long, she was nearly able to embrace her lover again.

She heard the telling, heavy thud of the sky bison touching down on the ground, the jingle of metal clasps and the rustling of fabric, the wet snuffling of the Airbender’s companion as the creature shuffled closer to the gate with its two riders, until at last, there was silence.

Rangi readied herself to be seen for the first time as her official position in the Fire Nation Army, drawing herself up to her full height—albeit not much—and puffing out her chest, her hands clasped tightly behind her back in a traditional “at ease” pose, ensuring quickly that not a single hair was out of place.

The gate began to lift, rolling upwards with the grating sound of metal on metal, and Rangi stood motionless, her eyes watching the figure that was silhouetted by the afternoon sun as it was slowly revealed by inches.

Rangi had seen Fire Nation sunsets, Arctic summers where the snow gleamed like white diamonds, clear nights chock-full of stars in the bowels of the Earth Kingdom, and felt the breeze high above the world at the top of the Southern Air Temple.

None of that compared to the vision in front of her.

When the gate finally ground to a halt, Rangi stared up at Kyoshi in her full glory, forcing herself to remain impassive, despite wanting nothing more than to leap forward and bury her face in the taller girl’s neck. Her eyes flickered over Kyoshi’s form, noting with dismay and slight irritation the amalgamation of new scars that her lover had accrued over their year apart, her hands itching to reach out and smooth the tiny crease that had grown in Kyoshi’s brow.

There was a long beat of pregnant, tense silence, where neither of them moved, nor said a word, simply taking each other in. Kyoshi’s expression was tense, and there was an air of nervousness to her that Rangi suspected had nothing to do with entering a new nation for the first time.

Finally, she couldn’t hold it in anymore, and collapsed against the wall, her chest heaving as she gasped for air, still winded from her sprint across the grounds. She clutched her chest, doing her very best to catch her breath, but it took quite a bit of difficulty, as she had begun to laugh as well, choking on air.

“I had to sprint over here… all the way across the grounds… so I could look impressive greeting you,” she gasped out, chortling as she leaned more heavily against the brick wall, her head tipping back against the cool stone. “I must be out of shape.”

It was as if someone had taken a knife to the previous tension, a broad smile breaking out like the dawn across Kyoshi’s face as she laughed as well, observing the shorter girl with great amusement. “Is that how you’ve been doing it?”

Rangi nodded, grinning breathlessly as she pushed herself off the wall, still breathing hard. Since graduating from the Fire Academy, she’d always done her best to have an air of superiority, mystique, and intrigue around her like a veil. It helped her to create a name for herself, and only built the reputation she wanted to have.

“At least I don’t have to worry about other Fire Nationals seeing me right now,” Rangi managed, her voice still slightly choked from the lack of air. “The only blind spot in the defenses is right here, directly under the gate itself. Which means I can do this.”

And without warning or further ado, Rangi reached up, standing on her tiptoes and gripping Kyoshi’s robe tight, yanking her inside the bounds of the wall and pulling her into a searing kiss.

At last! Rangi’s mind crowed triumphantly, her hands moving up to grip Kyoshi by the collar, ensuring that she had no routes of escape. The two of them melded together like alloyed metals, Rangi nearly combusting as she felt Kyoshi’s arms moving to encircle her waist.

Knowing she would melt completely if that happened, Rangi gave herself an escape route and forced herself to pull away, stepping back and reluctantly breaking the kiss. She reached up slowly, delicately smoothing down a single misplaced hair that had fallen from her topknot, her voice cool and professional once more.

“Welcome to the Fire Nation, Avatar.”

Kyoshi looked completely dazed, Rangi noted with a mixture of satisfaction and amusement, her face falling as she stared down at the shorter girl. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, there was the sound of another person clearing their throat, to which Rangi belatedly, with some embarrassment, remembered that Kyoshi hadn’t come alone.

The figure stepped out from behind Kyoshi, revealing a young man with the shaved head of an Air Nomad monk, tall and lanky, but lacking any of the traditional arrow tattoos that signified mastery of his element.

“Mistress Rangi,” the monk said, bowing formally in the fashion of his people, his fist pressed to his open palm. “It’s good to finally meet you in person.”

Rangi saw Kyoshi’s face flush out of the corner of her eye, perhaps also realising that the monk had borne witness to their intimate moment, but ignored it, instead deciding to be friendly to the man, seeing as he had done such an excellent job of keeping secret correspondence with her over the past few weeks.

“Brother Jinpa,” she replied, bowing as well, though not as deep. “I am honored by your presence. You can leave your bison by the gate while the two of you follow me. Our stable masters are trained in the care of mounts from every nation.” 

She leaned closer, allowing herself to flash him a conspiratorial smile and sending him a wink, lowering her voice. “I let them know that I’d make them suffer immensely if they mishandled your companion.”

Jinpa let out a cheerful laugh, seeming to think she was joking, until a quick look from Kyoshi had it dying in his throat. He paled a little, his easy smile sliding off his face as he took a couple of steps back, moving back over to his massive, furry companion.

“Be a good boy and stay here.” The monk’s voice was a whisper as Rangi turned her back on the pair, beginning to move back towards the palace, but it echoed like a shout in the shade of the heavy fortifications. “ es, I know she’s scary. I’ll be fine.”

His words made her smile to herself, though she hid it well, and the three of them began the long walk back through the tunnel. The sheer metal plates lining the wall gleamed in the light of the afternoon sun as they neared the end of the passage, and as they did so, a singular cough echoed throughout the hall. It startled Kyoshi and Jinpa both, though Rangi had now grown used to being constantly watched in her home country, and Rangi thought she saw another flash of nervousness move across the monk’s face as they stepped out into the sunlight again.

On the other side of the defenses, there stood a singular minister, clad in the red-and-black colors of her homeland, the combination stark against the flat, green plaza studded with paved walkways. She knew the man from previous encounters, and her brow nearly furrowed as she realised he was the only one there to greet them—there should’ve been a whole company, for the Avatar—but Rangi knew better than to allow her emotions free reign on her face, and remained impassive.

“Avatar Kyoshi.” The man’s voice was high and reedy, but his face held the countenance of an adult speaking to a misbehaving child; it was pinched and soured as though he’d smelt something foul, and it did not dissipate as he lowered himself into a deep bow, his grey-black goatee drooping nearly to the ground. “I am Chancellor Dairin, Head Palace Historian. On behalf of Fire Lord Zoryu, I extend our country’s greetings.”

“The honor is mine, Chancellor,” Kyoshi replied politely, inclining her head to the much shorter man as her eyes darted around the plaza, as if waiting for more people to pop out of the greenery. “Where is the Fire Lord? His message indicated that we have important matters to discuss.”

Dairin’s face pickled further, his nose scrunching in the same way Kyoshi’s had once after being given something spicy. “He is… indisposed at the moment. You will see Fire Lord Zoryu tonight.”

A bout of awkward silence descended on the group, and Kyoshi looked a little taken aback, but shrugged. Jinpa fidgeted a little, scuffing his shoes on the stone beneath him, and Rangi decided to speak up before things got more uncomfortable.

“I believe the first item on the agenda is the palace tour, Chancellor,” she interjected, allowing a hint of affected admiration to color her tone. “Kyoshi has been telling me nonstop how she’s been looking forward to learning more from one of the world’s foremost Avatar scholars.”

The flattery worked wonders—as it often did with men like Dairin—and the man’s expression smoothed, then pickled even further, as though he were afraid of looking too pleased by the compliment. “Of course,” he replied imperiously, his voice gruff as he drew himself up to his full height. “I assure you it is very long and comprehensive. This way inside, please.”

The three of them trudged along behind the Chancellor, reacting with appropriate noises of admiration for every object he pointed to, nodding appreciatively every now and again when their “oohs” and “aahs” fell short. They passed rows and rows of jians, daos, engraved daggers, and other weapons, along with works of poetry from past Fire Avatars, policies written down in their own hand, and jewelry and gilded hairpins made for them.

As they walked, Jinpa’s interest seemed to pique with every new object, and he sped up to walk closer to Dairin, bounding after the man like a dog at his heels. Rangi almost thought it was genuine enthusiasm—until she caught the furtive wink and sly smile he sent their way, waggling his eyebrows briefly before turning around again. It was enough for her to decide she liked him.

Once the pair were relatively alone, or alone as one could be in the heart of the Fire Nation Royal Palace, Kyoshi leaned closer, dropping her voice to a low murmur so as not to alert Dairin the pair was talking amongst themselves. “How is your mother?”

“Well enough that she wants to speak with you tonight, at the reception,” Rangi answered just as quietly, feeling a slight rush of warmth for the girl at her side, knowing that she still cared for her mother’s wellbeing.

Kyoshi made a choked noise, causing Dairin and Jinpa both to look back at her, but she quickly nodded, pursing her lips and furrowing her brow to look as though she were seriously listening to Dairin’s words.

“So who’s this Dairin person then?” she murmured after the men had turned back around, Dairin satisfied that his audience was regarding Avatar artifacts with the right amount of gravitas. “I thought there was a special Fire Nation minister in charge of handling Avatar relations.”

“There’s supposed to be. I don’t know why Dairin was the only official sent to greet you either,” Rangi replied, her voice low. “Maybe Lord Zoryu’s having some problems with his staff, but I don’t dare ask. I have some privileges from my connection with you, but really, I’m only a First Lieutenant here in the palace.”

Kyoshi didn’t answer for a moment, but there was the slight flicker of a smile that appeared on her face that Rangi couldn’t interpret. She shrugged it off, choosing to ignore it, instead focusing her attention at Jinpa, whose bubbly, excited voice carried throughout the hall.

“Tell me about your secretary,” Rangi said, eyeing the man’s back with a touch of amusement, tilting her head a little to the side.

Kyoshi exhaled slowly, observing the monk herself, her brow furrowing in thought for a moment. “He’s a part of some secret Pai Sho club, and he acts the complete opposite of an Air Nomad sometimes. I haven’t figured him out. But he’s been a good—”

“And here we are at the Royal Portrait Gallery.” Dairin’s haughty voice interrupted, booming throughout the large chamber, startling Kyoshi so badly she nearly ran into Jinpa’s back, saved only by Rangi quickly grasping the back of her robes and pulling her back.

“I could spend days here and never get tired of it,” Dairin sighed reverently, and Rangi realised belatedly that they had stopped at the entrance to the portrait gallery, with floor-to-ceiling paintings of Fire Lords and Fire Avatars lined the walls, each one taking up its own alcove and staring imposingly down at the group. His reverence was well-deserved—the grandeur of the portrait hall overshadowed everything they’d seen previously on the tour.

Dairin led his audience down the rows and rows of portraiture, every depiction stern-faced and solemn as they passed by generations of Fire Nation royalty and Fire Avatars. The half-finished likeness of Fire Lord Zoryu’s father and predecessor, Fire Lord Chaeryu, stared back at Rangi, his eyes seeming to follow her as they walked down the corridor.

They stopped at the very last finished painting, where the dour, drawn face of Kyoshi’s third most recent predecessor stared down at them, holding a skillfully rendered abacus in his hand, where most other Fire Lords or Fire Avatars held a ball of fire.

“Here we have the namesake of our festival,” Dairin declared, his voice once more booming throughout the grand room. It was giving Rangi a bit of a headache. “The Fire Nation owes a great debt to this man.”

“Can you tell me more about Avatar Szeto?” Kyoshi asked, her own voice quiet and polite compared to his. “I’m afraid I don’t know as much about him as I’d like.”

It was as though a switch had been flipped, and Rangi groaned internally, knowing that they’d have to sit through yet another one of his lectures on Fire Nation history.

“During Szeto’s childhood years, the Fire Nation teetered on the verge of collapse, struck by plague and natural disasters,” the man began, clearing his throat, his voice low and monotonous. “The wrath of the spirits was terrible, and Fire Lord Yosor was in little position to halt the fracturing of the country along the old fault lines of the clans.”

“The clans?” Kyoshi asked, her brow creasing in confusion.

Dairin huffed, realising Kyoshi didn’t know as much about Fire Nation history as he’d thought. “Each noble house of the Fire Nation is descended from one of the old warlords from the period before the country was united. That is why the noble clans retain certain rights such as governance of their home islands and the retention of household troops. During Lord Yosor’s reign, the clans set their warriors against each other, ravaging the countryside in futile bids for power and resources. Many historians, myself included, opine that without Szeto’s intervention, the Fire Islands would have splintered apart, reverting to the dark days of Toz the Cruel and other preunification warlords who caused so much suffering for our people.”

“What did he do to fix the situation?” Kyoshi’s face was open, curious. It appeared that her interest really had been piqued for this particular subject, and Rangi mentally cursed. She just wanted to be alone with Kyoshi, no matter how cute her curiosity was. 

“He applied for a job,” Dairin sighed proudly, looking up at the man’s sour, somber expression, and Rangi privately wondered if he made an effort to copy it. It wasn’t that she hated her country’s history by any means, but she’d heard these stories so many times she had them memorised. “Though as the Avatar his material needs would have been met and his decrees heeded, Szeto took a government post as a minister of the royal court, technically subject to the same rules and regulations as any other official. He showed up to work at the Capitol and sat at a desk. Furthermore, he insisted that his career advance at the pace of his achievements rather than leapfrogging his seniors just because he was the Avatar.”

“And that helped?” Kyoshi asked, staring up at the massive portrait of her past life. Rangi could’ve smacked her for how incredulous her voice was, but her nose scrunched in that adorable way it did when she was confused, and they were in front of other people, so she restrained herself.

“It turned out to be a brilliant strategy,” Rangi interjected instead, her voice quiet, but the shape of the gallery made it loud enough to echo. “Rather than chase emergencies all over the nation, he concentrated his efforts on a central location and spread his influence from there. Szeto was an extremely capable bureaucrat, accountant, and diplomat. And since he was working for the royal family, there was no split in legal and spiritual authority in the country. His victories were the Fire Lord’s victories.”

“Once he was promoted to Grand Advisor, Avatar Szeto was able to end the open hostilities between rival noble houses. A lasting peace followed, in which he continued to serve his country with dignity and excellence,” Dairin finished, nodding in agreement with Rangi’s words, apparently satisfied with her explanation.

“He put an end to the debasement of coins,” Rangi added. “It rescued the economy from the brink of disaster.”

“One of the scrolls we passed on the way here said he set up the first official programs to give relief to the peasantry in times of famine,” Jinpa piped up helpfully, pointing out towards the corridor they’d come from.

“And most important, he kept proper records of it all,” Dairin whispered reverently, looking up at Szeto’s portrait and wiping a tear from his eye that wasn’t there, as if he were just making sure that his eyes were dry. His expression was akin to one of a man looking ardently upon his lover, and his voice carried much the same cadence. “Truly, Avatar Szeto was an ideal for us officials to live up to, a shining example of Fire Nation values in general. Efficiency, precision, loyalty.”

They all stood silently side by side for a moment, gazing up at the man with his dismal expression, before slowly peeling away one by one to look at other portraits throughout the hall, leaving Dairin to stare worshipfully at the face of his apparent idol.

Kyoshi headed for the previous Fire Lord’s half-finished portrait, Jinpa towards the earlier Fire Avatars, and Rangi herself towards the empty alcoves after Szeto that waited to be filled with future generations. She looked up at the blank canvas, awaiting the next Fire Avatar’s face, and wondered what it might look like someday. A face that would exist after her. After Kyoshi passed. Her expression twisted a little before she could stop it, and she turned away, her mood souring at the thought, just in time to see Kyoshi’s brow furrow as she beckoned to Dairin. “Chancellor, I have a question about these flowers.”

The man tensed instantly, his head snapping towards her, thrown out of his adoring and admiring trance of staring at Szeto, practically running towards her to close the distance between them, a sight that was rather entertaining to Rangi in his floor-length robes.

Dairin halted beside her, squinting up at the oversized painting, his nose scrunching up at the portrait as he tried to make out the stenciled flowers that were still unpigmented. After a long moment, his face went white, losing any and all color as he stared up at the artwork, before leaning closer to Kyoshi, his voice intended to be for only her ears, but Rangi was close enough by now to hear it. “Do not speak of this to anyone but the Fire Lord.”

“Wait, what?” Kyoshi asked dumbly, her brow furrowing in confusion, her voice much louder than his.

“The tour is over!” Dairin announced abruptly, his voice wobbly and hands shaking as he clapped them together, startling most everyone in the hall. “Avatar, my apologies for prattling on when you must be tired from your journey. I will show you to your accommodations. Immediately.”

The Avatar’s quarters in the Fire Nation palace were an eyesore, to say the least.

The room was massive, tapestries and paintings adorning every wall, vermillion birds-of-paradise preening and crimson sunsets practically blinding anyone who stepped inside. It was difficult to tell exactly how big the room was, as the angles and shapes were distorted from the sheer amount of carnelian-shaded accents there were.

“I feel like I’m staring directly into the sun,” Jinpa muttered after a long pause as soon as Kyoshi had opened the door, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands, almost as though he were trying to scrub the red from his eyes.

“It took me a while to get used to so much red again myself,” Rangi replied, moving over to sit on the corner of the gargantuan bed. “Agna Qel’a is the same thing, only with ice. You need special goggles to move around the brightest parts or else you’ll go snowblind.”

Kyoshi’s expression sobered at the mention of the North Pole’s capital, and she turned to Jinpa, clearing her throat, her voice more serious now as she motioned towards the door. “Can you give us some time alone?”

“Not so fast,” Rangi said, holding up her hand to prevent Jinpa from moving, her tone crisp and professional like she was back at the Academy. “Report please, Brother Jinpa.”

As if reading her mind, Jinpa stepped forward, sharp as a first-day recruit, addressing Rangi directly for the first time since their official meeting at the gate. The only thing needed to complete the picture would have been a salute.

“She hasn’t been eating properly despite my repeated admonitions,” Jinpa began, his expression stern.

“Hmm,” Rangi murmured, her lips thinning into a line as she looked over at the taller girl, eyeing her critically. “She can be stubborn like that.”

Kyoshi’s brow furrowed, in a mixture of confusion and annoyance, and she looked between the two of them, crossing her arms over her chest. “Hey! Don’t talk about me like I’m not here!”

“She barely gets any sleep. I’ll find her passed out late at night, on top of a book or a map or a manual. She doesn’t give herself enough time to recover from her injuries. And she insists on reacting to random reports of violence throughout the Earth Kingdom in person,” Jinpa continued, holding up his hand and counting down each offense on his fingers as though he were reading out a list. “Do you know how hard it is to manage her schedule when she does that?”

Kyoshi’s face began to turn red, her head snapping between Jinpa and Rangi as they engaged in a rapid-fire conversation about her like she wasn’t there, her arms falling back to her sides and hands clenching into fists as she glared at them. “Have you two—have you two been writing each other behind my back?!”

“Only the one time,” Rangi answered truthfully, not bothering to look at Kyoshi and keeping her attention on Jinpa, listening and watching attentively. “I sent Jinpa a letter at the same time as I sent your invitation. It was the only way I would get a truthful update on whether you’ve been taking care of yourself. Apparently, you haven’t.”

“She hasn’t,” Jinpa chimed in—very helpfully, Rangi might add. “Quite the opposite, in fact. If I didn’t know any better, I would say she’s intentionally seeking out the most dangerous situations and hurling herself into them without any regard for her own safety!”

“That’s not true!” Kyoshi protested indignantly, her scowl deepening as she glared at Jinpa, directing most of her ire towards the monk.

“Oh, so I suppose you fell neck-first into a sharp object by accident?” Rangi interrupted sharply, her eyes flickering over to Kyoshi finally as she stood up. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed your new scars. It’s like you’re ruining my favorite parts on purpose.”

“She is so taxing.” Jinpa’s voice was slightly muffled as he put his fist against his mouth, sniffling a little dramatically for added effect.

Rangi moved over to his side, wrapping a supportive arm around him and rubbing his back, her voice sympathetic. “I know. I know she is. She’s the worst. You’ve done a heroic job taking care of her, and I’m here to help you now.”

Kyoshi gaped at them, her eyes darting between the pair.

“I am the Avatar!” she screeched, stamping her foot angrily on the ground. “Not some helpless child!”

Rangi just barely managed to tamp down her smirk, turning to Jinpa with a look that read, “Are you hearing this? I’m not so sure.”

Kyoshi’s expression was a mixture of stunned, dazed, and furious, like she wasn’t sure what was going on, but was definitely upset about it.

“You can’t talk about me like this!” she growled, pointing an accusing finger at Jinpa, who was grinning like a crococat. “I am your boss!”

“That may be, but she’s clearly the one in charge,” the monk replied gleefully, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, jerking his head towards Rangi. “If squealing is what it takes to keep you healthy, then slap me with a feather and call me a pig chicken.”

“Get. Out.” Kyoshi’s voice was little more than a low growl as she glared daggers at Jinpa, and it almost sent a shiver down Rangi’s spine—before she remembered she was the only one in the room that had one. And it was made of steel. Kyoshi’s, however, when it came to the shorter girl, was little more than glorified butter.

Rangi could use that.

Jinpa grinned knowingly at Rangi as he backed out of the room, and Rangi returned it, unable to stifle a snort as he sent her a wink, before slipping out and closing the door behind him.

And suddenly, for the first time in over a year, Rangi and Kyoshi were alone together.

There was a long pause, the joviality of the previous moment slowly seeming to bleed away as the two of them surveyed each other. Kyoshi seemed to hesitate, opening her mouth a couple of times, but closing it before saying anything.

“How are things back at the mansion?” Rangi finally asked, her voice quiet as she settled back down on the bed, watching Kyoshi closely.

“Less busy,” Kyoshi supplied, her voice a little more subdued as she neared the bed as well, trudging over and leaning against the wall. “Auntie Mui is still there, doing what she can. I don’t know why she hasn’t left yet.”

Rangi sighed heavily, her expression becoming slightly pained as she looked up at the younger girl. Still as self-deprecating as ever. Despite a year having passed, some things still remained unchanged.

“You’re why,” she muttered, her voice heavy and thick with frustration. “She’s trying to support you, Kyoshi.”

Kyoshi said nothing, her expression unreadable as she padded over to the crimson eyesore that passed for a bed, sitting down heavily beside her girlfriend.

“Yun?” Rangi asked softly after another few minutes of silence.

Kyoshi had promised Rangi before she left for the north that she would find their friend. The words had been slipped in among tearful declarations of love and promises to write, with Rangi having remained pressed into Kyoshi for as long as she possibly could until they were forced to part. Their only witnesses had been the grumbling dockworkers and the occasional swearing sailor.

“I thought if I could figure out how he survived, it might give me a lead,” Kyoshi said finally, still staring down at the red-carpeted floor. “But every story I found of people taken bodily by spirits was a folktale, and none of them live. I don’t have an explanation for how he came back.”

Kyoshi rubbed her eyes, her brow pinching in that way that always made Rangi want to smooth it out. “The closest piece of information I could find was an account of a spirit possessing the son of a provincial governor during the Hao dynasty. It said a dragon bird flew through his body, altered his physical appearance, and gave him unusual abilities.”

“Is that the answer?” Rangi murmured. “Maybe people touched by spirits can pass through the boundaries between the Spirit World and the human realm faster than others.”

“It’s hard to say.” Kyoshi sounded tired—a bone-deep, dragging kind of exhaustion that couldn’t be expelled with sleep. “The text didn’t mention crossing between worlds. It just said the boy sprouted feathers and a beak when the dragon bird flew through him. Yun didn’t look any different on the outside when I saw him in Qinchao. But he’s not the same as before. I just know it.”

“Kyoshi…” Rangi started, purposefully not making eye contact with her lover, knowing she wouldn’t be able to continue if she did, “have you ever considered that he’s… moved on?”

“From what?” Kyoshi looked up, confused, her eyes flickering to Rangi’s.

“From us,” Rangi whispered, the words tasting like ash in her mouth as she stared at the ground. “Based on what you’ve told me, I don’t believe he wants to be found.”

She held up a hand, forestalling Kyoshi’s immediate spluttering and protesting, her voice quiet and aching. “Think about it. There are numerous ways he could have gotten in contact with the Avatar. He knows the sages of the Earth Kingdom. He could have left a message with them. The fact you haven’t heard from him yet is telling.”

She could feel Kyoshi’s eyes on her. Staring at her. Boring into her.

“You’re talking about forgetting him,” the girl choked out, her hands fisting on the russet sheets. “Erasing him, like Lu Beifong and the rest of the sages want to do.”

“No, Kyoshi, I’m not. I’m talking about letting our friend come back to us when he wants to, not when we demand it. I want the people I care about to have a moment’s peace, instead of one obsessing over the other.” Rangi shook her head, her expression somber as she finally looked up at the girl beside her.

“You said he was healthy when you saw him,” she continued after a pause in which she waited for Kyoshi to speak, but didn’t. “I don’t think we need to worry about his survival. Someone as talented as Yun can flourish anywhere in the Earth Kingdom. I’d stake my honor on him showing up when he’s ready, and when he does, we’ll take him to task for everything that’s happened.”

“And then afterwards,” she finished, putting conviction into her voice that she didn’t feel, “You, me, and him will go back to Yokoya and eat the biggest dinner Auntie Mui’s ever cooked. That should be our plan.”

Kyoshi tried to force a smile, clearly unconvinced, and Rangi felt her heart ache a little at the mixture of emotions in her beloved’s eyes. She missed the old days; her, Kyoshi, and Yun, just the three of them against the world. It had been so good until…

Until Jianzhu.

Rangi shook the thought away, forcing down a shudder that threatened to wrack through her at the thought of the man, everything he’d done to her still fresh in her mind after watching her mother recover.

She saw she wasn’t getting through to Kyoshi, observing her girlfriend’s subdued, drawn expression, and stood up, stretching her arms up above her head. She tilted her head to the side, clasping her hands behind her back as she sauntered forward, allowing her hips to have the slightest sway as she walked, and was rewarded with Kyoshi’s eyes immediately darting downwards.

“You know, the party’s not for a few hours,” Rangi murmured breathlessly as she leaned down to Kyoshi’s level, her face inches away from the other girl’s, her eyes half-lidded. “I have an idea how to get your mind off your troubles until then.”

Kyoshi stared up at her with wide eyes, sitting motionless on the bed, all traces of gloom gone from her expression as a dumb, sheepish grin spread across her face, allowing Rangi to drag her to her feet.

Rangi tugged her closer, standing on her tiptoes to press soft, featherlight kisses to Kyoshi’s jawline. She sent a whisper of heat through the other girl’s robe as she fingered the lapel, meandering her mouth towards Kyoshi’s ear, her voice naught but a soft exhale. “Stance training.”

Kyoshi’s smile dropped instantly, about to straighten up before Rangi’s grip on her clothes tightened, turning vicelike as she kicked Kyoshi’s legs apart, forcing her legs to bend and to keep her in Horse stance.

“Do you know how easy it was for me to pull you off-balance at the gate?!” Rangi hissed, prowling around her girlfriend like an angry cat. “You haven’t been practicing! I thought I could trust you not to go soft in my absence, but I was wrong!”

“But… I thought we were…” Kyoshi started, her face so crestfallen, Rangi almost felt bad. Almost.

“What we do without guidance defines who we are!” Rangi shouted, placing her hands on her shoulders and forcing her even lower, determined to push the months of missed exercise into Kyoshi. “Twenty minutes without a break, or I bust you back to square one of your training! You’ll be doing hot squats with ten-year-old Academy washouts! You want that? Huh?”

Kyoshi’s face fell, and she grimaced in a mixture of pain and resignation, but true to her word, she bore it without too much complaint, simply staring at the ground in that forlorn, melancholy way she did whenever she wanted something from Rangi.

It was working wonders, and Rangi didn’t like it.

“Lower!” Rangi bellowed in an effort to distract herself, her eyes narrowing as she stepped closer to Kyoshi, right in between her bent legs, and stared daggers at Kyoshi.

Kyoshi lifted her head slowly, and oh, were her eyes always that pretty?

Rangi’s breath hitched, and one look at Kyoshi’s face told her she’d noticed. If possible, her expression got even more miserable and pathetic, and spirits, she was way too good at the puppy-dog eyes.

“Stance training,” Rangi muttered, unable to tear her eyes away from Kyoshi’s, golden meeting green and meshing together in a whorl of color as the two stared at each other. “Twenty minutes. I meant it.”

Kyoshi sighed pitifully, her head drooping a little as she moped even more, eyes finally breaking away from Rangi’s, and finally, the Firebender could breathe again. She took a step backwards, stumbling a little over her own feet, and moved behind Kyoshi, her cheeks flushing a little as she stared at the floor, having an internal debate with herself.

Kyoshi tried to crane her neck around to see what her girlfriend was doing, but quickly returned to proper form when Rangi barked, “Maintain!”

At last, the impulsive thoughts won over, and Rangi began to strip her armor off, for once not caring about propriety or proper care for the garments, the lightweight material being shucked from her body piece by piece and hitting the ground with a clatter.

She could practically see Kyoshi itching to turn around with every noise she made, and so at last, she moved over behind the other girl, wrapping her arms around her waist and resting her chin on her shoulder, her voice low in Kyoshi’s ear.

“Twenty minutes,” she repeated, the words slightly shaky as she moved closer, pressing her chest against her lover’s back. “Twenty minutes, and then—then we move on. But only if you’re quiet.”

Kyoshi froze, the breath hitching in her throat this time, eyes flickering to where Rangi’s cheek was pressed against her own, and oh… that dumb, goofy smile that Rangi loved so much returned in full force, her cheeks heating up against the other girl’s.

Kyoshi didn’t make another sound for the rest of those twenty minutes.

Rangi thought she might be in the Spirit World.

There was no way it could’ve been real. She laid side-by-side with the girl of her dreams, cheeks faintly flushed, and completely satisfied, staring up at the ceiling, her head tucked under Kyoshi’s chin. The younger girl had her arm wrapped around Rangi’s waist, the late afternoon sunlight pouring in and making everything light up a flaming orange that made Rangi’s eyes hurt.

Rangi was too high on the echoes of ecstasy whispering through her veins to care, though. Kyoshi’s large, callused palm moved to cup the side of her face, and she preened under the gentle affection, her expression softening instantly as she looked up into the other girl’s eyes.

“Hey, you,” Kyoshi murmured, her voice a low, soothing rumble as she pressed a few featherlight kisses to Rangi’s cheeks, causing the Firebender to let out a quiet giggle despite herself—yes, she giggled—as she placed a small kiss of her own on Kyoshi’s palm.

“Hi…” she whispered almost dreamily, nuzzling into Kyoshi’s hand, her own moving up to trace her lightning scars absentmindedly, enjoying the pleasant shiver that traveled through her lover’s body.

Kyoshi’s eyes crinkled in the corners as she smiled down at the smaller girl, leaning down to press their foreheads together, her voice soft in a way it never was for anyone else. “What are you thinking about, staring up at the ceiling like that?”

Rangi hummed, curling her arms around Kyoshi’s waist and burying her face in the latter’s neck, inhaling her scent deeply, an oddly comforting mixture of jasmine and sandalwood.

“Just.. us,” she sighed, her voice slightly muffled against Kyoshi’s bare skin, reveling in the feel of their bodies pressed together in the most intimate of ways. “This is.. the first time we’ve actually shared a bed together, you know. And I don’t mean those silly bedrolls in Huijang. This is the first time we’ve been in a real bed together.”

Kyoshi laughed softly, pressing her lips to the crown of her lover’s head, and Rangi smiled without meaning to. What she wouldn’t give for this moment to last forever.

“I’m not really sure we had a choice, love,” Kyoshi murmured into her hair, and oh, how Rangi melted. “Given our previous circumstances.”

She stayed silent for a moment, simply basking in the affection as she pressed her lips to Kyoshi’s pulse point, the gesture ardent.

Kyoshi smiled again, her free hand moving to trace Rangi’s spine slowly, leaving a trail of goosebumps in her wake. “We’ve been through so much together. Grown up together. Spent our lives together. And yet, we’re only doing this now? We’ve been missing out.”

It was Rangi’s turn to laugh as she threw her leg over the other girl’s waist, moving to straddle her as she leaned down, caging Kyoshi’s head in between her toned arms, noting with satisfaction that her lover’s eyes lingered on them. Guess all those training exercises paid off.

She kissed Kyoshi softly, the movement slow and unhurried, ghosting her fingers along the tender skin just light enough to elicit a reaction, her voice low and warm as she pulled back. “We’ll have plenty of time to make up for what we lost pining over each other… and I, for one, am happy to use that time for the rest of my life.”

“You’ve made alterations,” Rangi murmured as her lover stepped out of the dressing chamber, leaning back in the gaudy, overstuffed chair, her posture mimicking that of a queen lounging on her throne. Her eyes were half-lidded, and her body relaxed as she studied the places in which the fabric of Kyoshi’s robes were different.

“I kept mending the original fabric, but eventually it took too much damage. I picked out new patterns I liked and had some pieces replaced,” Kyoshi explained, her voice equally as soft, the two of them still riding the high of their reunion.

“You kept the chainmail liner though. Made it heavier,” Rangi observed languidly, her brow creasing a little as her eyes flickered over the robes. 

“Safety first?” Kyoshi tried, tilting her head with an uncertain smile that made Rangi want to kiss it off her face.

“Kyoshi, it’s more than that…” Rangi sighed, resting her chin in her hand as she stared up at the taller girl, her voice gently admonishing. “You’re the guest of honor tonight. You could have worn the finest robes in the world and instead you picked the same clothes you fight in. This is a small, informal reception with a handful of guests on the personal invitation of Fire Lord Zoryu. You’re not going into battle. You don’t have to be constantly at war.”

Kyoshi’s expression soured, and Rangi’s own brow furrowed a little more as she watched her lover stare silently into space, clearly dwelling on unpleasant circumstances or memories. Perhaps thinking of the last time they’d truly relaxed together.

With Lek.

A sudden aching erupted in Rangi’s chest, and she blinked a little faster than normal, looking away from Kyoshi and staring at the ground, willing herself not to cry at the memory of her sworn brother.

“I suppose you’re not going to let me wear my bracers then.” Kyoshi’s gruff voice broke her out of her reverie, and she looked up again, taking in the bitter expression the other girl was mostly unable to hide. Especially from her. She always knew when Kyoshi was upset.

“Of course not. We’ll get you some gloves if you want, but in this country your hands are nothing to be overly surprised about,” Rangi said brusquely, trying to keep herself from spiralling into old memories. “Half the attendees tonight have dueling scars hidden here and there underneath their clothes.”

“You don’t.”

“That’s because I don’t lose duels,” Rangi answered, snorting a little at the thought.

She stood, allowing the full extent of her elegant gown to tumble to the floor, concealing her porcelain-skinned legs as she swished it from side to side, feeling a bit like a princess. The cut and style of the dress was intended to mimic that of a fire lily, with the gold accents at the top mirroring the stamen, while the rest of its blood-red train was the petals.

“I know it sounds frivolous and wasteful, but appearances matter here in the palace,” Rangi murmured, moving over towards Kyoshi and purposefully allowing her hips to sway a little more, allowing the accent of her native tongue to bleed more into her voice, creating a lilting effect—if only to take pride in how it drew Kyoshi’s eyes. “Fire Nation nobles dress and act to represent their clan affiliation and rank. Our peers notice our smallest choices and assign meaning and intentions to them.”

She braced one hand on the taller girl’s chest, using the other to smooth down a few of the creases that had formed in Kyoshi’s skirt. “Deep in the bowels of the Earth Kingdom, no one was watching us. That’s how we got away with half of the antics we did. Here in the Fire Nation, everyone is watching you. I want you to remember that. Everyone. Is. Watching.”

“So, it’s not going into battle,” Kyoshi exhaled slowly, raising her hand to cradle Rangi’s waist, a reassuring warmth pressed against her side. “It’s worse.”

Rangi didn’t disagree, raising her head up towards Kyoshi, her eyes flickering over her beloved’s face. “Your clothes will pass for now, but as the festivities progress, you should choose different looks. And it goes without saying, but no face paint during the length of the holiday.”

Kyoshi’s face twisted a little into that same bitter expression, and she made to protest, but Rangi put her finger to the former’s lips and poked her in the chest, effectively silencing her. “The paint is for pulling jobs with our sworn brothers and sisters,” she whispered, her expression softening at all the memories, nostalgia rippling through her. Wong. Kirima. Lek. Even Lao Ge, for some odd reason. “Not for mingling among abiders and square folk who don’t understand the Code.”

Kyoshi stared at her, her expression slowly changing into something so soft it made Rangi’s heart jet-step away, into the sky, and hit the sun, burning up in the heavens. She moved her arms fully around the Firebender and pulled the older girl into her chest, pressing a soft, sweet kiss to the crown of her head.

It was as though the Earthbender was trying to get her to implode.

“You better get your fill of this now,” Rangi muttered into the fabric of her robes after she’d recovered. “When we’re in public, you cannot touch my head or my face or my hair.”

Kyoshi made a soft sound of disappointment that turned the corners of Rangi’s lips up despite herself, and she curled tighter into Kyoshi’s embrace, the latter stroking her hair slowly. “Really? You’ve always let me.”

Rangi sighed, loathe to leave the arms of her beloved, but gently extricated herself from Kyoshi’s embrace and beginning to fix her hairpins, peering at her reflection in the mirror on the wall. “That’s because back in the Earth Kingdom it didn’t matter, but here, touching someone’s head outside of your closest family is one of the most disrespectful gestures imaginable. It’s best if you avoid touching anyone in general, including me. I hate it as much as you do, but now that we’re actually inside the gates of the palace, we have to follow decorum.”

She shot Kyoshi another suspicious look, before returning to adjusting her appearance in the mirror. She’d been on the receiving end of far too many surprise forehead kisses due to their height difference for her to fully trust that Kyoshi would behave. “I mean it. Hands off from the neck up.” 

“I get it, I get it!” Kyoshi muttered, pouting a little as she watched her Firebender ensure her appearance was perfect. Their eyes met in the mirror, and Rangi couldn’t help the way her own features softened, her lips pulling into a tiny smile that Kyoshi returned.

There was a quiet knock at the door, however, startling both of them.

“Avatar, Mistress Rangi, it’s time to go.” Jinpa’s voice came through the wood, clear and precise, something in his cadence telling Rangi that he was trying to avoid interrupting them as much as possible. She suppressed a smirk at the thought, instead moving towards the door and pulling it open for herself and Kyoshi as they joined him in the hallway.

She took in Jinpa’s appearance, eyeing the expanse of his exposed skin critically.

“What?” Jinpa asked, fidgeting a little, a slightly nervous as he looked between the two of them. “Too pastoral?”

“Usually people don’t go shirtless in the royal palace,” Rangi murmured, shrugging, “but there’s bound to be exceptions for national dress. It’s fine.”

The three of them stared at each other for a long moment, before finally exhaling slowly.

Kyoshi squared her shoulders, raising her chin defiantly and moving to the front of the group.

“All right. Let’s go meet the Fire Lord.”

Chapter Text

Rangi stared at the contents of her bowl like it had personally wronged her. 

She and her mother sat on the personal balcony in her mother’s rooms, provided by her mother’s esteemed status as such a renowned teacher and Headmistress. Rangi had spent the night in Kyoshi’s rooms, but her mother had summoned her first thing that morning to discuss a plan of action. Which, as always, Rangi had been happy to accommodate—until her mother had insisted they wait to discuss anything of meaning until Kyoshi arrived.

She finally began to eat, just to pass the time and avoid awkward pleasantries or small talk with her mother, and was surprised at how hungry was, a few bites turning into quickly inhaling her food, her Academy training kicking in and causing her food to disappear within almost a minute.

When Kyoshi finally appeared, Rangi felt a slight rush of warmth in her chest, but almost entirely ignored her, setting her bowl down heavily and leaning back in her chair, arms crossed over her chest.

She had a reputation to maintain, after all; she couldn’t appear too excited to see anyone.

“Sit and eat first.” Her mother’s voice came, breaking her out of her reverie. The older woman pointed her chopsticks at Kyoshi’s portion of food, sitting on the table next to Rangi’s now-empty bowl. “We’re going to need our energy and I hear you’re in the habit of skipping meals.”

Kyoshi sat obediently, picking up her chopsticks and breaking them apart as she began to dig into the food. Rangi watched her every bite with the intensity of a predator’s eyes on prey, and noted with mild satisfaction that each was swallowed, a faint, embarrassed flush growing on the Avatar’s ears.

Hei-Ran waited patiently until Kyoshi was mostly finished with her food to speak, her voice breaking the silence.

“So,” the woman began, “Yun wants to kill me.”

Kyoshi choked on her food, coughing a little and pounding her chest with her free hand, swallowing with no small amount of difficulty. Rangi’s expression turned dark, and her grasp on the table tightened until her knuckles were white and there were small indentations in the soft wood from her nails.

“He escaped not only the palace, but a full lockdown of the caldera,” Hei-Ran continued as if nothing had happened, her tone reminiscent of one discussing the weather. “All ports in the capital have been closed. The festivities in Harbor City are on hold while the search continues house to house. No luck yet though.”

Kyoshi hesitated for a second, then spoke up for the first time, her voice a little raspy due to almost choking on her food. “Maybe there’s another angle that could help us find him.”

“When Jianzhu first took me and Yun from Yokoya that day, he brought us into the Xishaan Mountains. Told us that we were going to try and commune with a spirit,” Kyoshi started, staring down at the table with an unidentifiable emotion on her face. “But when the spirit appeared, it was… unsettling. Jianzhu asked it to… identify one of us as the Avatar, since Kuruk had fought it when he was alive, and so would know which of us was his reincarnation. So it… it grabbed my ankle, and— and bit me, or something? It’s difficult to remember, exactly. But.. it said I was the Avatar, just like that, and… Yun just froze .”

“He… he stopped moving entirely. I could see his world crashing down around him.” The Avatar’s voice was thick and heavy with things left unsaid, and Rangi felt her own chest begin to ache at the look in her eyes. “The spirit grabbed him, and… dragged him away into the darkness. He didn’t fight it. He.. he really, truly believed with everything in him that he was the Avatar.”

“I didn’t see him alive again until Qinchao… where he killed Jianzhu.”

Rangi stiffened.

Jianzhu.

She shook it off, her hands clenching tighter until her nails dug into her palms, forcing herself to give Kyoshi her full attention.

There was a long silence after the other girl’s words, heavy and poignant with thick emotions. Neither Rangi or Hei-Ran said anything, one staring at Kyoshi with an unreadable expression, the other simply waiting for her to continue, both stilled into somber silence.

Kyoshi paused, doing her best to subtly wipe her eyes, her hand tightening into a fist on the wooden table until her knuckles turned white.

“When I saw him again at Qinchao, he seemed… wrong ,” she finally continued, her voice little more than a whisper as she regained her composure. “He looked fine, healthy, happy even— but there was just something wrong about it. Everyone in the teahouse recoiled from him. Like they couldn’t stand to be near him. But… before everything happened, they flocked to him like moth wasps to a flame.”

“He was… too pleased by Jianzhu’s death. He wasn’t himself. Like someone had crumbled him down piece by piece, and tried to reassemble him with Earthbending, but just a few pieces got placed wrong.”

Jianzhu.

The man’s name bounced around in her skull, causing her breathing to shallow and her ears to ring like someone had blasted them with sound.

His eyes, cold and cruel, full of malicious intent, boring into hers.

Focus.

Again, there was silence after Kyoshi spoke, Rangi and Hei-Ran both digesting her words.

“You think the spirit that identified you as the Avatar has possessed Yun,” Hei-Ran said finally, her piercing eyes studying Kyoshi with an intensity few others possessed.

Kyoshi nodded, swallowing hard and finally managing to return her expression to what it was, albeit with some difficulty. “Jianzhu called it ‘Father Glowworm.’ He said it fought with Kuruk in the past. This spirit could be controlling him, or maybe it altered his mind.”

“I’ve never heard the name,” Hei-Ran mused, her expression turning slightly darker as she added, “During the time our group spent together, spiritual excursions were never Kuruk’s focus, to say the least.”

“Back in Yokoya I pulled apart Jianzhu’s libraries, searching for mention of a spirit fitting the description, but found nothing. I was hoping you would have some recollection,” Kyoshi explained, shifting a little in her seat and looking towards Rangi’s mother hopefully.

Jianzhu.

She felt her face getting paler, a scowl she couldn’t quite shake forming on her face as she forced herself to remain calm, staring down at the grain of the wooden table as if it held the secrets of the universe.

“Better to ask Kuruk himself,” Hei-Ran said dryly, interrupting Rangi’s spiraling thoughts.

Kyoshi’s face fell, twisting with disappointment. “I can’t. I can’t fully reach Kuruk or any other Avatar.”

Neither Rangi nor Hei-Ran were surprised by the confession, both taking it in stride, though Rangi’s brow remained pinched.

“Communing with their past lives is one of the most difficult and complex feats an Avatar can perform,” Hei-Ran replied. “Successful methods and experiences have been known to vary between generations. I wouldn’t advertise your problem, but I wouldn’t beat yourself up about it either.”

There was a lull in the conversation, none of them saying anything for a moment, Hei-Ran drumming her fingers lightly against the edge of the table, staring out into the distance at the city.

“I have an idea,” she said abruptly, her movements ceasing. “I know a friend of Kuruk’s who spent more time with him after our original group went its separate ways. He used to be a Fire Sage stationed in the capital, but these days he maintains a small shrine in North Chung-Ling. He’s an expert in spiritual matters. If anyone could give us answers, it’s him.”

Instantly, Rangi’s mouth thinned into a line, her brow furrowing further with disapproval. She’d heard stories of North Chung-Ling. A small town on Shuhon Island that was known for high spiritual activity—or used to be, at least. The village had capitalised on the rumors of spirits, using them to build engagement and fund the town’s populace. It had become nothing more than a tourist attraction, at this point. A joke.

At least now there was something else to focus on.

“North Chung-Ling?” Rangi asked, trying to keep the dry sarcasm out of her voice, but failed. “We couldn’t go to the real Fire Sages?”

“They’re in the pocket of the Saowon clan,” Hei-Ran explained, shooting Rangi a brief look that she ignored. “The High Sage is Chaejin’s maternal great-uncle. But my contact might know more about this Father Glowworm creature, especially if it has a link to Kuruk. If the Avatar successfully fought it in the past, perhaps it can be defeated again now.”

Kyoshi’s eyes lit up, her expression already a mix of faint desperation and genuine surprise—but pleasant surprise, like she couldn’t believe there was a way Kuruk might be able to help them. “We have to go to North Chung-Ling.”

Rangi’s face immediately twisted like she’d eaten something sour. She looked between Kyoshi and Hei-Ran, staring at them in disbelief. Were they seriously trying to go chase down rumors and find spirits when so much had just happened? She looked at Kyoshi again, then her mother, waiting for one of them to say something, to realise this wasn’t of the importance they thought it was.

They were silent, staring right back at her.

Unable to contain herself any longer, she threw her hands down on the table, the empty plates and used chopsticks clattering together, the cup nearest to her tipping over and spilling the smallest trickle of water onto the wood.

“Are the two of you listening to yourselves?” Rangi hissed, looking between the two of them again in an effort to get them to understand. There were lives at stake. “The palace was attacked, and you want to go on a wild spirit chase?”

“How else are we supposed to get Yun back?” Kyoshi snapped back, her voice suddenly aggressive, which startled Rangi a bit, but she didn’t back down.

“Kyoshi, he killed four people and defiled the palace. After what he did, there is no more ‘old Yun,’” she pointed out, struggling to keep her voice steady as she tried her best to be understanding of Kyoshi’s feelings. But they couldn’t. There was too much going on. This was too important to risk Kyoshi being indisposed, searching for some evidence that Yun was still in there.

That the boy Kyoshi used to love was still in there.

Rangi’s heart gave a slight, painful twinge in her chest, but she refused to let it show, staring Kyoshi down with an intensity that matched her mother’s.

“I’m telling you he is possessed !” Kyoshi growled, her hands clenching into fists as she glared at Rangi.

“And a day ago, you weren’t even sure of that!” Rangi shouted, pushing her chair back from the table with a loud screech of wood on stone, her eyes blazing as she stared Kyoshi down.

She couldn’t focus. Couldn’t make herself stop and think.

“Lieutenant,” Hei-Ran said sharply, her tone the reprimand of a commanding officer to their foot soldier. Not a mother to her daughter. “Control yourself.”

“No, Mother, I won’t,” Rangi retorted, matching the older woman’s use of rank for the other side of their bond. “I’m not going to sit here calmly and listen to you entertain Kyoshi’s wild guesses about spirits instead of coming up with a defensive plan for your own safety. I know you both feel terrible for what happened to Yun. I do too. But after what we all saw, it would be utterly foolish to treat him like anything but the danger he is.”

The balcony was by no means small, but there was still limited space due to the table and chairs that had been set up. Rangi paced back and forth anyway, her movements sharp and jerky as she tried to keep ahold of herself, listing off the things her former friend had done on her hands, each one more damning than the last. “I mean, he shouldn’t have been capable of half the things he did last night. He infiltrated the capital, murdered Lu, and single-handedly foiled the entire security force of the royal palace. It doesn’t make sense. Yun is a diplomat and a talented Earthbender, not some kind of trained killer.”

She opened her mouth, finger jutting into the sky like an ominous promise of more to come, ready to continue, to deliver more crushing blows against the pair of them in an effort to dissuade them from this mad venture, in an effort to control her emotions, only to be cut off by her mother’s weary voice.

“He is,” Hei-Ran rasped, refusing to look at either of them, the words like a thunderbolt in the already-tense atmosphere. “He is a trained killer.”

Rangi stopped dead, frozen in place, her eyes trained on her mother. Every thought, every word, every emotion—they all stopped dead at those five simple words. Everything she was going to say flew from her mind, her only focus now on the woman sitting in front of her, stooped heavily with the weight of a thousand and one sins.

“...what?”

“After Jianzhu found Yun in Makapu, he was plagued with worries and anxieties about the world accepting Yun’s legitimacy as the Avatar. Daofei and corrupt politicians had been profiting from the absence of an Avatar for far too long, and were still doing so when Yun was found.” Hei-Ran’s voice was quiet. Steady. Unwavering.

Too unwavering.

“Jianzhu decided Yun needed to be able to defend himself. From attacks on his life. From attacks to the validity of his Avatarhood. Yun’s enemies would never make a blatant attempt to kill him; they would come as spies and assassins in the night. Sowers of chaos and silent destruction.”

Hei-Ran paused, refusing to look at either Rangi or Kyoshi, staring out over the city skyline, cast in harsh relief by the early morning sun.

“Jianzhu decided that rather than allow Yun’s life to be endangered, he would ensure that the Avatar could end the threat before it became one.”

There was a sudden sharp inhale, but Rangi didn’t know who it came from—her, or Kyoshi.

“That was Master Amak’s role in Yokoya. He perfected his dark craft beneath the halls of Ba Sing Se, smiling politely at his contemporaries by daylight, and waging silent, deadly wars against them by night. He began to teach Yun almost from the moment he was found, up until the point he was killed by Tagaka. His areas of study were passed onto Yun—how to both use poison and resist it, how to kill his enemies in any way, shape, or form… whether that were with a knife, bending, most any object around him, or… or his own hands.”

“I turned a blind eye because I thought it would be best for the Avatar’s protection in the long run,” Hei-Ran finally murmured, her gaze shifting to the grain of the wooden table. She looked like she had aged ten years within the span of the entire conversation.

Once more, there was silence.

But this silence was heavy.

Oppressive.

Rangi stared at her mother like she was seeing her for the first time, her hands clenched into white-knuckled fists, her vision tunneling.

“A spirit didn’t turn Yun into a monster.” Her voice shook. Deadly soft. Like the calm before the storm. Ice cold. “You did.”

She felt cold.

She couldn’t feel her bending.

It only served to remind her even more of Jianzhu’s dungeons.

Jianzhu.

“I’m sorry—” Hei-Ran began.

She never got to finish her sentence.

Rangi surged forward, gripping the table with both hands at each corner, her muscles straining with effort as she flipped the massive gingko-wood table, the plates, bowls, and cups screeching down its lacquered surface—hurling it straight over the edge of the balcony.

Right onto the ground below, where it broke with the hideously loud crack of wood on stone.

They all stood there, stunned into silence for a moment by the display of strength and emotion, Rangi’s chest heaving as she stared at where the table had been a second before.

Hei-Ran opened her mouth to speak.

Rangi turned on her heel and stormed away.

She was cold. So very cold.

She couldn’t think.

Couldn’t breathe.

Couldn’t feel.

Couldn’t stop moving.

She barreled down the tower stairs, ignoring the indignant squawks of displaced servants and other palace-goers.

Protests that died in their throats as soon as they laid eyes on her.

She ignored the way everyone flattened themselves against the wall, startled not by the fury in her eyes, or the heat emanating from her—but the lack thereof.

She was numb.

Everything had shrunk down. Where previously, there had been emotional turmoil and strife, now there was now silence.

Terrifying, empty, thunderous silence.

It was as though every facet of her emotions had filtered away, sharpening and coalescing into a single, deadly point.

Jianzhu.

So she ran.

She ran from the thoughts, the memories, and the new knowledge of what her mother had done. Or—more accurately, the things she hadn’t done.

The things she had allowed Jianzhu to do.

Jianzhu.

She fled from the name. From the echo.

From the feel of his hands on her skin.

From those cold, cruel eyes that had once made her feel warm.

Jianzhu.

She skidded to a halt in front of the stables, barely even registering how she’d gotten there, storming towards the doors and sending a sharp, battering kick at them, causing the wood to splinter as they careened open, crashing into the stone walls.

The busy hustle and bustle of the servants and stablehands inside ceased instantly, everyone freezing at the sight of the Firebender. All of the pleasant noise and easy chatter that had surrounded the entire wing of the palace came to a shuddering halt, creating a silence that deafened Rangi.

Silence. Thrice-cursed, spirits-damned silence.

Jianzhu.

Within seconds, all the faces staring back at her had gone pale with apprehension, some in abject terror, and they were all flooding out through the same doors she had broken, giving her a wide berth so as not to incur her wrath any further.

Silent. Alone.

Jianzhu.

She stalked down the hall, passing by each row of stables, her eyes trained directly ahead, never ceasing in her steps. When she finally reached her goal, Jinpa stood alone, scratching Yingyong’s chin with a gentle hand, but he too froze at the sight of her.

There was a tense silence, in which the two of them stared at each other, Rangi motionless, Jinpa paralyzed, neither speaking.

“Get out.”

Rangi’s voice was hoarse, so quiet as to nearly be inaudible, her eyes boring straight through Jinpa as though she could incinerate him with her gaze alone.

Jinpa blanched, taking a step back, his hand falling from Yingyong’s fur. He stared at her for a long moment, clearly debating if he should try to speak or not, before opening his mouth. “Rangi, I—”

“OUT!”

He took the hint.

She stepped forward, grabbing a discarded brush from the shelf and beginning to run it through the bison’s fur roughly, without any real effort or care, hoping the repetitive motion might soothe some of her raging emotions, but it did nothing, only causing the cold, cold silence to return.

She was alone.

Alone.

With him.

Jianzhu.

She couldn’t do it anymore.

Couldn’t pretend.

Couldn’t act like everything was fine.

She dropped the brush, stumbling backwards from Yingyong like the giant bison had burnt her, her hands shaking as she pressed herself back into the corner of the wall, her chest heaving in quick, sharp inhales that did nothing to encumber the onslaught of emotions rushing forward.

Rangi shattered.

She slid down the wall, curling into herself, deep, gut-wrenching sobs tearing themselves from her throat. The body-shaking, devastating kind that ripped from the deepest parts of her being, rocking her center and tilting her world on its axis.

She couldn’t breathe.

Her mother. Jianzhu. Yun. Kyoshi.

All of it.

She let out a low, keening whine, hands moving to her head as she rocked back and forth, her vision swimming and darkening at the edges as she tried to catch her breath, but she couldn’t.

She couldn’t see, her hands shaking and her chest heaving as she inhaled sharply several times, trying to calm herself down.

It didn’t work.

She buried her face in her legs, choking on air as she twisted into a ball, trying unconsciously to make herself as small as possible, hands clawing at her arms.

She heard the sound of footsteps, and her head snapped up, but she still couldn’t catch her breath, her chest heaving as she tried to quiet herself, tried to avoid being seen.

She couldn’t be seen.

Not by anyone.

Spirits forbid she was seen crying on the dirt floor of the Fire Nation Royal Palace stables like a child.

But the face that peeked around the edge of Yingyong’s saddle was a familiar one, and in an instant, Rangi felt both like a weight was lifted from her shoulders, and that one was placed on them, weighing her down and lifting her up all at once.

“Rangi?”

There was no answer.

Kyoshi didn’t hesitate. She stepped forward, deftly avoiding the giant bison—who gave a plaintive rumble at being ignored—and slipped down to sit beside Rangi, reaching over and folding the smaller girl into her chest like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And maybe it was, because instantly, the ache in Rangi’s chest lessened as she sobbed into Kyoshi’s robes, letting the taller girl hold her steady, even through the pain of being unable to catch her breath.

“Breathe with me.” Kyoshi’s voice was a soft, steady murmur above her, her throat and chin pressed to the top of Rangi’s head, the sound seeming to surround her. “In and out, okay? Just like I do. Slow and steady does it. You’re okay.”

“I’ve got you.”

Those three words only made Rangi sob harder, her breath shortening in her throat until she was choked with tears, because how could she be so wrong and so right at the same time?

Kyoshi began to rock her back and forth gently, in the same way that her mother used to do as a child, and even through the haze of panic and pain, Rangi melted into her, some of the burning in her lungs beginning to ease a little.

She did her very best to follow Kyoshi’s instructions, but her vision was still blurred from tears and her hands gripped the other girl like a lifeline.

Gradually, her sobs slowed from constant to occasional, and still Kyoshi remained, petting her hair and using that soft, gentle voice that she only ever used with her Firebender, and Rangi pressed her face into Kyoshi’s robes, hiccuping every now and again.

“Better now?” Kyoshi said finally, rubbing the other girl’s back soothingly, her voice warm warm warm just like the fire of Rangi’s bending.

Warm. Safe. Alive.

Everything she hadn’t been feeling until now.

Rangi took a shuddering breath, at last pulling away from Kyoshi’s chest reluctantly.

She felt like she’d been wrung out. Like a rag that someone squeezed until there was no moisture left. Her eyes were red and puffy, her skin pale like the ashes of a fire.

But at least she was warm again.

She nodded shakily, forcing herself to pull away from Kyoshi, slipping out of her embrace and back onto the floor until she was pressed up against the wall.

There was a long pause, the silence painful and tense on both sides. Neither spoke.

“Why didn’t you stop him?” Rangi rasped finally, the very sound of her own voice causing her to wince. It was harsh and graceless and pained, but… at least it was hers.

“Who? Jianzhu?” Kyoshi murmured, her voice soft and worried.

Rangi didn’t know if she loved or hated it right now.

“Yun!” she snapped, curling into herself again and resting her temple against the wall, her voice hoarse. “I saw how close you got to him at the party and—and you did nothing!”

Instantly, Kyoshi’s mood shifted, darkening at the mention of their former friend. She pulled back from Rangi, her voice growing flinty as a ugly scowl split her features. “Nothing?! He was standing in the middle of a crowd of hostages!”

So much for warm, fuzzy feelings.

Rangi scoffed. This—this she could do. Anger was easier than pain.

So much easier.

So she retreated, slamming her walls back up.

“So you waved your fans at him; good try!” she sneered, giving Kyoshi the nastiest look she could muster. “You’re the Avatar, Kyoshi! Did it ever occur to you to try bending? You had so many chances to drop him by force and you didn’t take them!”

“I—” Kyoshi’s voice cut out, and she looked lost, lost and hurt, for a second—just long enough for Rangi to feel guilty—before her expression hardened again, and she glared at the girl across from her.

“What should I have done then?” Kyoshi exploded, her voice full of venom, her hands clenching into fists on her robes. “Kill him in cold blood like I did Xu Ping An? Put him down like a rabid animal? He’s our friend!”

“Well, I’m glad you still have room to debate!” Rangi spat, her voice practically poison as she stared Kyoshi down. “I no longer get to decide how I feel about Yun. He took that choice away from me!” 

She stared at Kyoshi, her chest heaving, practically shouting now. “What if he hurts you, Kyoshi? What if he attacks us again and you hesitate and he hurts you?”

“He wouldn’t!” Kyoshi screamed, rising to her knees and raising her hand, sending it forward—

—straight towards Rangi.

It hit the wall above her head with a deafening crash, Kyoshi’s fist plunging straight into the stone and cracking the mortar enough to send a shiver through the entire wing of stables, a trickle of dust floating down from the rafters above and onto Rangi’s head.

Rangi stared up at the silhouette of Kyoshi above her, the Avatar’s face cast in shadow as she stared into the hole her fist had created, and for the first time, felt a flicker of… fear.

She hated it.

She curled into herself again, trying to make herself even smaller than before, hiding her face in her knees and staring at the ground, her voice quiet and subdued and the smallest of whispers. “You have a hole in your robes that says otherwise. If I had convinced you not to wear your armor, we’d be in a very different place right now. You’d be seriously injured or worse, and it would have been my fault.”

She broke off after a second, too overcome with emotion, before taking a few deep breaths and forcing herself to continue. “I… I couldn’t live with that, any more than I could live with losing my mother again. I just got the two of you back.”

There was a long pause from Kyoshi, and Rangi tensed even more, refusing to look up at her for fear of what she might see on her face.

Then Kyoshi slumped, her hands trembling, her voice cracking as she leaned back, dropping down again to sit beside her, staring down at her hands. “Rangi, I swear to you, I will do what it takes with Yun. I won’t let him harm anyone else, especially not your mother.”

Rangi forcefully wiped her eyes, refusing to cry again, instead finally looking up at Kyoshi. The younger girl was staring at the ground, her face drawn and haggard, looking so, so much older than seventeen. She looked up, and their eyes met, and thank the Fires Below, there was no ounce of insincerity in her eyes, so aged from what they ought to be, like ancient relics of the past.

“When she opened her eyes in Atuat’s hospital, I started to hope the past was done with us,” Rangi whispered, watching her carefully, still unable to bite back the slightest trickle of unease in her bones. “I thought we could begin moving forward, like how the traditional Avatar calendar counts the days. Did you know it’s technically the six thousand four hundred fifty-fourth day of the Era of Kyoshi?”

 “It doesn’t feel like it,” Kyoshi muttered, her gaze falling back to the dirt floor again.

They sat there, side by side, for a long time, each wishing the circumstances had been different. That their lives weren’t what they were now.

“You threw a table off the balcony.” Kyoshi finally broke the silence, glancing up at her, eyes searching Rangi, her pained expression falling away into something a little more open, the faintest hint of a smile twitching her lips.

Rangi barked out a hoarse, raspy approximation of a laugh, the sound strangled and undignified as she leaned sideways, tipping her head onto Kyoshi’s shoulder silently. “I am in so much trouble. I could have killed someone. In the royal palace no less. What if the Fire Lord had been walking underneath us?”

And just like that, the tense air lightened. Just a little. “I no longer hold the title for worst breach of manners in the Four Nations,” Kyoshi murmured, her voice softening again, light and heavy all at once, laced with so many unspoken emotions it made Rangi want to cry all over again. “And I am never, ever going to let you forget it.”

“For as long as you live?” Rangi mumbled, reaching over to intertwine her fingers with Kyoshi, tilting her head up to look into her eyes.

“For as long as I live,” Kyoshi whispered back, her lips pulling up into a soft, aching smile that made Rangi’s heart warm.

She raised their intertwined hands, not breaking eye contact with Kyoshi as she lifted them to her lips, pressing a slow, sweet kiss to Kyoshi’s knuckles that made the taller girl’s breath hitch, like sealing a promise. A promise that they would continue to rib each other for the rest of their days.

Maybe, just maybe, they would be alright after all. 

*****

“Avatar, Lieutenant, are you in there? I request your presence regarding a certain matter.” The Fire Lord’s voice came through the wall, breaking the soft, gentle silence that had gathered between them.

Rangi’s head shot up off of Kyoshi’s shoulder, her face running through several different emotions, turning very red, and then very pale in quick succession. She turned to look at Kyoshi, her expression full of growing horror. Maybe the table had been historically important?

They rose quickly, sidling past Yingyong and scrambling down the long rows of stables, ducking out into the early morning sunlight from the hall. Fire Lord Zoryu stood waiting, hands clasped in front of him, wearing a lighter, less formal version of his robes from the night before.

“I didn’t acquit myself well last night, immediately after the incident,” Zoryu said finally, seeming as though he were trying not to look at his shoes. “I should have taken command of the situation. I should have been the one talking to you instead of Chaejin. I swear, when it comes to my brother, I feel like my wits leave me. Certain people… they turn you into who you were before.”

There was a slightly awkward pause. Rangi supposed that tended to happen when the ruler of possibly the most powerful nation in the world looked more like a chastised schoolboy than a monarch.

“You don’t need to apologise,” Kyoshi replied after a beat, shrugging, her expression slightly awkward.

“Good, because apparently strong Fire Lords aren’t allowed to,” Zoryu groaned, his shoulders slumping as he rubbed his forehead. “I’ve been speaking with my advisors and the situation remains dire. The only chance I have of keeping the court from turning on me is apprehending Yun.”

“Then we want the same thing.” Kyoshi’s voice was smooth this time, steady as she reverted back into a role she was more comfortable with. “I will find him for the both of us.”

“Thank you, Avatar.” The man hesitated for a moment, biting his lip, before clearing his throat and straightening his posture, tone formal once more. “That’s not the only reason I’m here, though.”

He stepped aside, revealing Hei-Ran and Atuat behind him, stiff-backed and ceremonious.

Rangi’s blood ran cold.

Her mother and Atuat were standing in a highly unusual formation for the pair—though it was just the two of them, Hei-Ran stood at the forefront, her expression grim and determined. Atuat almost never stayed behind her mother—unless she was letting the older Firebender deal with someone she didn’t like.

Which meant something was seriously wrong.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Rangi demanded, pushing past Kyoshi and stepping forward, completely ignoring the Fire Lord for a moment—that had to be an offense punishable by death or torture of some kind—as she stared her mother down.

“Atuat is my second, and the Fire Lord is my witness.” Hei-Ran’s voice was strained, but steady as she handed her cane to Atuat, stepping forward stiffly and sinking to her knees in the soft green grass. Reaching behind her back, the older woman pulled out a blade, sharp, gleaming in the blazing sunlight, and wickedly curved.

Rangi went white.

“No!” She rushed forward, hand outstretched to snatch the knife from her hands. “Mother, no!”

Hei-Ran pinned her in place with a single glare. Her feet stumbled to a halt, and she watched helplessly as her mother raised the knife to her head, her voice hard. “After what I’ve done, you would protest? Consistency, Lieutenant. No one gets to escape the consequences of their deeds. This was a long time in coming.”

She took a deep breath, looking around at the assembled group, adjusting the knife and holding it against her topknot, the thin, delicate blade already causing a few hairs to be severed.

“For failing to recognise the true Avatar,” Hei-Ran rasped, her eyes flickering towards Kyoshi and holding the latter’s gaze. “For not protecting my friend Kelsang.”

Rangi felt like she was drowning.

“For letting my former pupil dishonor our nation,” Hei-Ran continued, looking back to Zoryu.

And finally, her daughter.

“For not being worthy of my daughter’s esteem.” Hei-Ran’s voice softened, their eyes meeting, and Rangi felt her eyes fill with tears yet again.

“No…”

Without further ceremony, Hei-Ran sliced the blade cleanly through her hair, the little silken bundle shorn from her head and tumbling to the ground. With a few swift strokes, she cleaned up the cut, her grey-peppered locks billowing in the breeze and dancing away like wisps on the wind.

Rangi shuddered, forcing herself to blink back her tears as Atuat knelt down, picking up the small bundle of hair and wrapping it delicately in a handkerchief, unable to look at the thing anymore. She’d lost her own hair, when Jianzhu—she had to suppress another shudder at the thought of him—had cut it off, but it was more akin to a war injury than what her mother had just done. 

Rangi’s hair had been forcibly removed, deep in the heart of the Earth Kingdom, but Hei-Ran… Hei-Ran had just removed the very symbol of her own honor, right there in the beating heart of the Fire Nation, right in front of the Fire Lord himself.

Which also meant that it now relied on Rangi to carry the honor of the Sei’naka name.

“It’s done,” Hei-Ran said at last, giving her daughter a sad smile that was frayed at the edges. “You hold this family’s honor in your hands now. You’ll take far better care of it than I have.”

Rangi stared at her mother. Really stared.

Then, all at once, her despair bristled, changing to fury.

She stared her mother down, hands clenching into fists and knuckles beginning to smolder as she tried to contain her Firebending.

There was absolutely nothing she could say, because her mother had just performed the ritual of dishonoring herself in front of the actual Fire Lord.

Hei-Ran stood calmly, watching her daughter glare daggers at her while silently fuming, waiting for another few seconds before clapping her hands sharply, startling all of them.

“All right then. North Chung-Ling,” she said briskly, as though she hadn’t left Rangi stunned with a single sentence. “I see you haven’t saddled the bison correctly. Five people will cause the floor to shift.”

Rangi stared at her.

“What do you mean five people?” she bit out, her jaw clenched so hard it looked like it might snap. “What do you mean North Chung-Ling? We didn’t agree to go there.”

“You were upset we weren’t discussing a plan for my safety earlier,” Hei-Ran explained matter-of-factly, her voice already neutral and commanding again, folding her hands behind her back. “Well, standard operating procedure after a target comes under attack is to move their location. You should know this well; it’s how you protected the Avatar from Jianzhu.”

Rangi’s hands clenched at the mention of the man again, her face beginning to turn red from poorly-suppressed anger as she glared straight at her mother.

“We are going to hide out in North Chung-Ling,” Hei-Ran declared without preamble, turning to everyone else gathered. “While we’re there, Kyoshi can make contact with Kuruk’s friend to follow up on any spiritual leads to Yun. It’ll kill two spidersnakes with one stone. Brother Jinpa! Have you finished gathering the supplies?”

Jinpa emerged from around the corner, barely recognisable from the massive, teetering tower of boxes, bags, and crates cradled in his arms, his voice a muffled wheeze from the strain and effort. “I have, Headmistress. We can be in the air in fifteen minutes.”

Rangi’s head whipped around to look at him, her eyes widening as she took in his precarious form, betrayal written all over her face.

Hei-Ran had comandeered the Avatar’s secretary much the same way her daughter had done before her—nevermind the fact that Jinpa actually worked for Kyoshi—and it made Rangi absolutely incensed.

Jinpa peeked at her from around one corner of the box tower, then shrugged, offering an apologetic smile, as if to say, scariest Firebender wins.

“We haven’t discussed our options!” Rangi finally spat, furiously waving her arms and stamping her foot helplessly, feeling like a child throwing a tantrum. Her mother responded accordingly, giving her an unimpressed look down her nose. “We have to take into account your condition!”

“She’ll be fine!” Atuat replied in a frighteningly cavalier way, waving her hand airily. “Fresh air and movement will be better for her health than cooping her up in the palace. She survived the trip home, didn’t she?”

“But—but—” Rangi spluttered, looking towards Kyoshi for help. She really, really didn’t want to be stuck on another hours-long bison ride with her mother. She loved her, but spirits…

“But nothing!” Hei-Ran interrupted sharply, her expression becoming severe, just like it had been at the Academy whenever Rangi had messed up. “I may have no rank now, young lady, but you are still my daughter! I am telling you that we are going on this trip, and I don’t want to hear any further complaints spewing out of your mouth! Now hush!”

Rangi’s mouth dropped open. She stared at her mother, horrified at the abomination that had just passed through those lips—young lady??

In front of Kyoshi? The Avatar?

In front of the Fire Lord??

Her mother, it appeared, had decided to stoop to new lows.

“I’m officially an Avatar companion!” Atuat whooped, throwing her fists up into the air and bounding towards the stable. “I’m going to get one of those fancy ink paintings of us commissioned for posterity!”

The sudden loud noise and motion agitated Yingyong, who let out a panicked rumble, shifting away from the sound and inadvertently squashing Jinpa up against the stone wall, sending the unstable stack of supplies careening in every direction.

The monk let out a startled shriek, the sound muffled by the bison’s thick fur as he pounded at the animal’s side.

“You call this grooming?” Hei-Ran tsked disapprovingly, paying absolutely no attention to Jinpa’s sudden peril as she inspected the shoddy grooming job her daughter had done on the bison’s fur, the white fluff sticking out every-which-way. “It looks like you used a body brush instead of a dandy brush. It’ll have to be redone. All of it.”

“Somebody help me?” Jinpa pleaded from where he was smushed between Yingyong and the wall, letting out another muffled sigh when there was no response incoming.

Rangi stood in the middle of it all, feeling like a child again as she watched her carefully constructed group fell to pieces within seconds, all from her mother’s intervention.

“I was going to give a great big speech about how the fate of my nation rests on the shoulders of this group,” Zoryu mumbled, watching the chaos with a mix of abject horror, dismay, and mild fascination.

“We’ll, uh, be careful?” Kyoshi offered, reaching out to pat his arm sympathetically.

They were so, utterly screwed.

Chapter Text

Rangi paced the upstairs hall relentlessly, wringing her hands as her bending exploded out of control, inhaling sharply as she tried desperately to keep herself calm.

It wasn’t working.

Yun had gotten to her mother.

Yun.

Her former best friend.

She could barely fathom the turn of events.

She remembered the day she had first confided in Yun. The first time she had seen him as something other than the Avatar.

It was maybe the first year of Yun’s official Avatarhood—he had only just been found by Jianzhu and Kelsang.

It was also the first year that all three of the youngest people in the Avatar’s Mansion were together.

Rangi had been assigned her official duties as the Avatar’s bodyguard, and Kyoshi had been given her own official assignment as… whatever she was. Yun’s nanny? Maid? Something like that.

And despite everything, despite the fact that Kyoshi was nothing more than a lowly servant girl that should’ve passed completely under Rangi’s radar… she didn’t.

Rangi often found herself distracted by the younger girl, staring almost dreamily at her while she was supposed to be faithfully shadowing Yun. One moment, she was watching Yun do Hot Squats and Fire Fists, the next she was watching how Kyoshi’s hair cascaded down her back in the sunlight.

Yun noticed, of course.

Yun noticed everything.

It happened one such hot summer day that after Hei-Ran had disappeared to find Jianzhu, Yun had also taken the opportunity to flit away to some high peak of the Mansion—which, wonderfully enough, had escaped Rangi’s notice.

Because she had eyes for no one but Kyoshi in that moment.

Kyoshi was doing one of her many duties around the Mansion—bringing dried, seasoned kelp into the kitchens—only this time, she was being tortured by the three local village miscreants: Aoma, Jae, and Suzie.

They were bullying her, mocking her, harassing the Avatar’s servant while she tried to do her job.

Not on Rangi’s watch.

She vaulted over the hedge that ran the edge of the gardens Yun trained in, sprinting at top speed—straight for the other girl.

She appeared from the surrounding foliage like a vengeful spirit, knuckles already smoldering, her expression already frightening enough to scare off any unsuspecting passerby.

As she approached, she caught wind of some of the things they were saying.

It made her absolutely livid.

“So, the giant hog-monkey thinks she’s too good to rough it in the fields and make an honest living like the rest of us, huh?” Aoma was saying, a mocking sneer on her face as she used her Earthbending to fling a pebble at Kyoshi’s forehead.

“Yeah! Spirits forbid she actually works for anything like the rest of us!” Jae chimed in, a sneer on his idiotic face.

Suzie laughed, high and shrill, as she and Jae circled Kyoshi like vultures waiting for a kill, Aoma walking in front of them with her back to Rangi. “You’re acting like she could , Jae! She’s too clumsy and massive to do anything more than bumble around the Avatar’s Mansion! I bet she’s nothing more than a scullery maid. It’s probably why she smells so bad all the time!”

Rangi stalked forward, her jaw clenched in barely-contained fury, her eyes flickering over the insidious little earthworms as she cleared her throat.

All three of them jumped, Aoma whirling around instantly with wide eyes and a guilty expression. She paused when she saw Rangi, an appraising glint appearing in her eye as she looked the smaller girl up and down, a falsely sweet smile appearing on her face and her tone turning smarmy and sugary. “Oh, spirits! You startled me there. I’m Aoma! What’s your name?”

Rangi scoffed, her expression only darkening as she gave the other girl an unimpressed look, then to her two lackeys behind her, and to Kyoshi, who was staring at Rangi with her mouth slightly agape. “I’m Rangi. The Avatar’s personal bodyguard. Which also extends to his household staff—whom you are currently accosting, thank you . So if you wouldn’t mind getting off the property, then I suggest you do so before I make you.”

Aoma’s doe-eyed, slightly flirtatious smile died instantly, transforming into an ugly scowl as she took a step back, her face going red with embarrassment and anger. “Fine. Maybe I will. Take the Avatar’s stupid mutt back to him. She’s useless anyway.”

Rangi’s eyes widened furiously, and she opened her mouth to deliver a scathing reply, her knuckles already beginning to steam again as the three of them scuttled away, cowed by the response given to their leader—only to be stopped by a gentle, callused palm on her shoulder.

She froze, her eyes snapping up to Kyoshi, who was giving her the most beatific smile—soft, warm, and grateful, and any and all words died in her throat as she stared up at the taller girl.

“Thank you, Rangi,” Kyoshi murmured, her own cheeks tinting a faint pink as she gave Rangi’s shoulder a gentle squeeze, and caused a storm of dragonfly hummingbirds to erupt in her stomach. “But you don’t need to do that. I can handle them just fine. Really, I can.”

The idiocy of that statement was enough to break Rangi out of her reverie, and she stood up straighter, her flushed face instantly transforming to a scowl as she gave Kyoshi a slight shove, shaking free of her hand and turning on her heel, her voice loud and carrying as she snapped, “That’s ridiculous! They had you completely surrounded! You were just… just letting them mock you! That’s not handling it, Kyoshi. That’s surrendering!”

A low chuckle rumbled in Kyoshi’s chest, and she shook her head, hoisting up the barrel of dried kelp and following after her, amusement coloring her tone. “It’s called neutral jing. It’s the Earthbender way. You wait and watch to see what happens before making a move. I didn’t want to provoke them further, so I stayed quiet.”

“Neutral ji—no! Positive jing is always best! It’s always better to catch your enemy off guard than to wait and let them take advantage of you!”

“They’re not my enemies, Rangi—”

“Practically! They had you surrounded like a load of buzzard wasps looking for prey! You were about to be their next meal!”

“Rangi—”

“You have to stand up for yourself, Kyoshi, or they’re never going to stop!”

“Isn’t it better to watch and wait if you don’t know what your enemy is capable of?”

That stopped Rangi short.

She paused in the middle of the path, Kyoshi making a startled noise as she nearly ran into her back, and turned on her heel, shooting the taller girl a scowl that could curdle milk, her cheeks red again.

“Shut up.”

Kyoshi blinked, then looked away, biting her lip as she tried her best not to smile, but wasn’t entirely successful, her lips twitching as a tiny snort burst out of her.

Rangi stared up at her in betrayal, stilling as she registered the slightly choked noise coming from Kyoshi’s throat, before throwing her arms in the air like a windmill, gesticulating wildly.

“You have to defend yourself! You can’t make the same mistake twice, or they’ll try to exploit it again and again! You need to make them—” She continued to rant at Kyoshi, who refused to acknowledge her words, still trying desperately, to her credit, not to laugh. 

The taller girl moved past her, swallowing hard, her cheeks still faintly pink from suppressed laughter as she cleared her throat. “Listen, Rangi… I need to get back to my duties, so… I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

Rangi stopped dead, staring at the back of Kyoshi’s head, both furious and dismayed that their interaction was ending so soon, and turned her nose up, grinding the heel of her boot into the dirt to keep from saying anything she’d regret.

Kyoshi took her silence as a confirmation, coughing once or twice to avoid laughing all over again, nodding once and flashing Rangi a quick smile over her shoulder, before walking away, back into the Mansion.

Rangi stared after her, a scowl growing on her face as she crossed her arms over her chest, trying not to pout.

She wanted to keep talking!

She was startled by a loud wolf-whistle from behind her, and she whirled around, her hands already poised to deliver a crippling Fire Fist… only to see Yun, that same charming, signature grin on his face.

Yun traipsed forward, slinging his arm casually around Rangi’s neck and leaning against her, peering after Kyoshi with a mock-thoughtful expression. Rangi stiffened, her thoughts whirling as she stared at him.

Did she push him away?

Did she let him stay?

If she pushed him away, would that violate her training because she was hurting the Avatar?

If she let him stay, was that violating her training because she was crossing the professional boundary and getting too close with her charge?

Yun laughed, seeing her discomfort, and rested his chin on her shoulder, squinting at the back of Kyoshi’s head. “Lighten up, Hotwoman! We’re the same age, you know. You don’t have to be so stiff around me all the time. We could be friends.”

Rangi’s eyes flickered over to him, and her lips thinned into a line despite her best efforts, her voice sharp and clipped. “You ought to get back to your training, Avatar Yun. If Headmistress Hei-Ran sees you dawdling instead of practicing your Hot Squats, she won’t be pleased.”

Yun’s easy smile faltered, and he straightened up, sighing, crossing his arms over his chest, his voice quieting. “Look, I… if you really hate the idea that much, it’s fine. We can pretend this conversation never happened. But you’re one of the only other people my age in this entire compound. Is it really so bad that I might… you know… want a friend? A real friend. Not a chaperone, or a specially-chosen Avatar’s companion. Someone I can talk to. That gets me. Sifu Jianzhu and Sifu Hei-Ran and Sifu Kelsang… they’re great and all, but they’re not… friends. I just want someone that understands what it’s like.”

Rangi paused, her stiff expression softening a little bit as she eyed him skeptically. If there was anything she understood, it was being alone and friendless, left to perform perfectly under the pressure and eyes of everyone on you.

“I think I’m falling in love with her.”

The words startled Rangi, slipping out without even thinking about it. She reddened instantly, her hand snapping up to cover her mouth, and she quickly looked away from Yun, biting her lip.

Yun’s mouth dropped open, a delighted gasp falling from his lips as he grinned, suddenly perky again, and he shoved Rangi’s shoulder lightly. “Oh my—you actually told me? This is insane. I can’t believe it. I knew it!”

He jumped into the air, pumping his fist with a loud whoop, still grinning from ear to ear as he got into her personal space. “So? Are you gonna ask her out? Go on a romantic sunset picnic? Kiss her? Ooh, are you going to confess?!”

Rangi shoved his face away with one hand before she even realised what she was doing, her ears crimson and cheeks burning. “Spirits, shut up! You don’t know anything!”

Yun stumbled backwards, landing squarely on his rear in the dirt, blinking up at her in shock.

As soon as she realised what she’d done, she clapped a hand over her mouth, horrified, her eyes widening. She’d just laid a hand on the Avatar. The Avatar .

She was definitely going to die. Painfully. By torture.

But the sound of snorting pulled her back from the edge of a panic attack.

Yun was laughing. He rolled around on his back, cackling, his voice cracking as he tried to catch his breath. “Oh, Yangchen’s backside—you should have seen your face! It got all red and puffy, like a frog squirrel! You’re so dead, man, you just pushed the Avatar—”

Rangi stared at him, mortified and red-faced.

Then, unbidden, a slightly hysterical laugh bubbled up out of her throat, and she doubled over, wheezing, a dry, hoarse chortle being forced out of her.

Yun just laughed harder, grinning from ear to ear as he reached up, closing his fingers around Rangi’s wrist—and dragged her downwards into the dirt beside him, his voice raspy. “How in the world—is the infamous Rangi actually laughing ? Did I get you to laugh? I’m so awesome. I should be called Avatar Awesome instead.”

Rangi yelped, but dissolved into another fit of hoarse laughter, shoving his shoulder weakly as she slumped onto the ground beside him. “You—you are a menace, you know that? I’m going to be in so much trouble—”

A sudden, sharp clearing of someone’s throat interrupted their mirth, and Rangi froze.

She knew that sound.

She was on her feet in an instant, stiff and formal once more, standing perfectly at attention in a crisp salute.

Yun’s laughter died out slowly, and he blinked the tears out of his eyes, peering up at Hei-Ran in confusion. “Sifu?”

Hei-Ran glared at the pair of them down her sharp, pointed nose, her voice severe as she looked between them. “Yun. I want you doing Hot Squats until you cannot feel your legs any longer.”

Yun’s face fell, and he huffed, pushing himself up off the ground and dusting himself off, sighing dramatically. “Yes, Sifu…”

Hei-Ran’s gaze snapped to Rangi, who almost flinched beneath her mother’s hard gaze, and the former clasped her hands behind her back, her eyes narrowing. “You, Rangi… I want you cleaning out the stables. I want them spotless. Not a single speck of hay or fecal matter. I want no trace that a single mount has been placed there. Am I understood?”

Rangi nodded once, the movement sharp and jerky, and snapped her hand up once more into a salute. “Yes, Headmistress!”

Hei-Ran eyed the two of them suspiciously for a moment, then turned away, shaking her head from side to side, muttering faintly about “undisciplined youths”.

Rangi continued to remain at attention until her mother was out of sight, before her eyes flicked over to Yun, who was staring after his Firebending teacher with an unreadable expression. His head turned towards her, catching her eye, and they stared at each other for a long moment.

Then both of them burst out into helpless giggles once more, Yun wrapping his arm around Rangi’s shoulder again, and her shoving his face away lightly, unable to hold back her breathless laughter.

Rangi startled out of the memory by the sound of Atuat’s voice as the older Waterbender opened the door to her mother’s bedroom. Her head snapped up, and she pushed herself up off the wall she had been leaning against, her mouth already opening, when the woman held up her hand to forestall any questions.

“Your mother’s going to be fine,” Atuat muttered, exhaustion clear in every line of her face. She beckoned the Firebender inside, to which Rangi hastily obeyed, a faint rush of relief easing a sliver of her worry.

A sliver that only returned tenfold as soon as she saw the woman on the bed.

Hei-Ran was lying in bed, deathly pale, her back propped up against the wall. Her eyes were open, the amber-gold irises radiating nothing but cold fury.

As soon as Rangi entered, Hei-Ran looked up, and she reached for the small chalkboard on the bedside table, taken from the restaurant below the inn, small, white pieces of chalk scattered around. She picked it up, scrawling a hasty set of characters on the board.

Where is Kyoshi?

Rangi’s brow furrowed. Her mother had nearly just died… and now she wanted to know Kyoshi’s whereabouts?

She crossed her arms, giving her mother a once-over, her voice tight. “Does that seriously matter right now? You nearly died, Mother. Again . This is the second time this has happened. Your life nearly ended, and you’re worried about where Kyoshi is?”

She didn’t stick to our plan, Hei-Ran wrote, her hands trembling slightly, but steady. Where is she? I need to speak with her.

“Plan?” Rangi responded irritably, tapping her foot as she crossed her arms over her chest. Her mother was being unreasonable—yet again. “What kind of plan are you talking about? I wasn’t made aware of any such plan.”

Hei-Ran’s eyes narrowed, and she paused, seeming to debate whether or not she wanted to divulge the information—which only irritated Rangi more. She deserved to be in on whatever this was! Not only had her mother kept this from her—which was to be expected—but Kyoshi too! Kyoshi was supposed to be on her side!

Kyoshi and I came up with a plan. We left the palace to lure Yun out of hiding. I knew he would follow me wherever I went. But Kyoshi could’ve used that to her advantage. She chose not to.

Rangi stilled.

Kyoshi had come up with this?

This was Kyoshi’s idea?

“... what?!”

Hei-Ran sighed through her nose, doing her best to erase the board, white chalk dusting her hands. Before I cut my topknot, the fate of the Fire Nation hung on the balance of my life. By removing my honor, I also removed that threat. My fate does not matter nearly as much as that of our nation, nor its stability and honor. My death will not disgrace my country any longer.

“Are you insane?”

Rangi’s voice was deadly quiet, razor-sharp and brittle. She stepped closer to the older Firebender, her hands shaking as her bending flared, heat roiling from her very pores like the rage that burned within her chest.

“You think that I care about the honor of the Fire Nation when my mother was just attacked by a madman?!”

She turned on her heel, throwing a harsh, crisp burst of flame at the other end of the room, her chest heaving. “Did you not even think about me, Mother? Did you not stop to wonder how this would affect me?!”

Hei-Ran remained calm and quiet, though her own expression was steely.

It only infuriated Rangi more.

She could feel her own rage boiling up from the depths of her belly, a coil of white-hot flame begging to be released from its confines as she fought to stay composed.

Scratch, scratch.

She turned, her eyes falling on the words her mother wrote.

Control yourself, Lieutenant.

It was the final straw.

Control yourself.

The same words she’d heard.

Every day.

For seventeen years.

Control yourself.

Enough was enough.

Control yourself.

Flame burst from Rangi’s throat, heedless of the ban on Firebending for Avatar Szeto’s holiday. She snarled, her hands erupting in a gout of broken, erratic fire, reminiscent of her emotions as they sparked and crackled like the directionless passion in her chest.

She punched the wall once, the resounding crash echoing throughout the small wooden room, her blazing knuckles leaving a charred imprint on the wall.

“Fetch Avatar Kyoshi please, Doctor Atuat.”

Her voice was tight. Quiet. Controlled. A stark contrast to her sudden outburst.

Atuat’s face paled, but she didn’t argue. She knew better. She backed away hastily, leaving the two Firebenders behind as they stared each other down.

Rangi locked eyes with her mother, her eyes narrowing. Hei-Ran was lying, half-dead, on the bed in front of her, yet somehow the woman still managed to be the most powerful force in the entire room.

Rub. Scrape.

You should not have done that.

Rangi ground out a raspy, strangled laugh. “Right. Just like I should never do anything . Because all I am is a disappointment.”

The entire chamber grew swelteringly hot, the internal fire of both her and her mother’s bending at odds to make the space as roasting as it could possibly be. 

Hei-Ran’s eyes narrowed to slits, and she grasped the chalk again, rubbing her last words off to write a response—but before she could, there was the slow sound of footsteps on the stairs, and Rangi heard the door open as the faint, familiar brush of robes on stone echoed ever-so-slightly, heralding Kyoshi’s arrival.

Rangi didn’t turn around.

She couldn’t.

“You used my mother as bait.”

There was a sharp inhale, and all sounds of movement from behind her ceased as Kyoshi froze.

“I didn’t agree to the plan.” Her voice was small and subdued; weak, like a scolded child.

Rangi barked out a sound that was more of a growl than a laugh—there was no mirth in it. She turned on her heel, finally looking the other girl face to face as she glared up at Kyoshi.

“Right. You just went along,” she hissed, her voice low, a harsh, grating sound akin to that of metal on metal. “Neutral jing, huh? You kept quiet and you didn’t tell me she meant to sacrifice herself. Would you have mentioned it over her corpse? Would you have told me then?”

Kyoshi flinched, stepping back from the vitriol in her lover’s voice, her expression helpless as she spread her hands placatingly. “Rangi, please! I’m sorry!”

“Don’t apologise to me.” Rangi’s hands shook with cold, hard fury, her knuckles smoldering as she stepped right up to Kyoshi, jabbing her finger in the other’s chest in a gesture painfully reminiscent of that fateful night in Huijang. “There’s no need.” 

Kyoshi stared down at her, her brow furrowing as she opened her mouth to reply—but Rangi beat her to it. “Because from this point on, I am nothing to you. Do you hear me, Avatar Kyoshi? Nothing.”

She saw it.

The exact moment Kyoshi broke.

Her eyes widened, filling with tears, her face going white as her expression crumbled like the stone she bent with such ease.

Rangi didn’t stay to see any more.

She knew she couldn’t bear it if she did.

So she mustered the rest of the anger in her chest, shoving Kyoshi hard and brushing straight past her, her hands trembling as she wrenched the door open.

She pretended not to hear the sob that tore from Kyoshi’s throat.

The sound of her falling to the floor.

The rough scribbling of her mother’s chalk upon her board.

She stormed straight down the stairs, her face white with anger and hands clenched into fists as she entered the tiny common room below, greeted with the tense faces of Atuat, Nyahitha, and Jinpa staring back at her.

She stalked past them, shoving Jinpa aside roughly without any care, the monk letting out a yelp as he stumbled, before being steadied by Atuat, her face stern and worried, lips thinned into a line.

“Rangi—” the doctor started, moving towards her, hand extended to rest on the young girl’s shoulder.

Rangi whirled around, slapping her hand away, her eyes wide and furious, her voice laced with a venom she never used for anyone except those she hated most.

“Don’t touch me.”

The Waterbender paled again, stepping back quickly to give the girl her much-needed space, and Nyahitha also slunk a few paces backwards, wisely taking the hint and deciding not to interfere.

Rangi gave them all one last, venomous look, before turning on her heel and heading straight for the door.

“Kyoshi hasn’t eaten since yesterday afternoon.”

The words stopped her in her tracks. She turned her head slowly, her eyes glinting dangerously as she looked at the speaker over her shoulder.

Jinpa’s voice was careful, forced into calm neutrality as he refused to make eye contact with her. He stared at the floor, his head slightly bowed as she took him in, hands clasped in front of him like he was praying. “I just thought you might want to know.”

Rangi growled, the sound low in her throat, before haltingly turning around towards the restaurant’s small kitchen, each step thudding hard against the wood.

They all quickly scrambled backwards, giving her a wide berth.

Good. She wouldn’t have to hurt anyone today.

Probably.

She stormed into the kitchen, her chest heaving as she fought the desire to explode again. She’d already done it once—and that was one time too many.

She jerked her head around, looking for some sort of food, her hands trembling with barely-suppressed rage. This was supposed to be a restaurant, for spirits’ sake! Where was all the food?!

She threw the nearest cabinet door open, her eyes quickly scanning the empty shelves. Nothing. She tore through the empty kitchen, overturning pots and pans, searching for anything more than a few unused ingredients, her frustration growing with each unfruitful search. Nothing.

Finally, in the very last cabinet she came to, she hurled the door open, nearly tearing it off its hinges, expecting nothing once again—only to be greeted with the sight of a single brown paper bag, sitting forlornly on the bottom. She grabbed it, wrenching it apart, seeing about a single person’s worth of curly noodles inside.

She huffed, moving back over to the stove and gripping the handle of one of the pots she’d thrown over her shoulder. She set it down on the burner, yanking the nearby bucket off its hanger and stomping over to the water pump, pressing it down so hard it nearly broke.

Once getting the water, she poured it into the pot, dumping the plain yellow noodles in it after and looking around for fuel—only to realise she hadn’t seen any in her furious pursuit of food throughout the whole kitchen.

She growled angrily, placing her hand against the burner and beginning to heat the metal, the coils beginning to glow orange-yellow with the blistering warmth of her Firebending. The water slowly began to bubble, but was still boiling far too slowly in Rangi’s humble opinion.

This is all Kyoshi’s fault.

The venomous thought startled her, and her brow furrowed.

She shook her head, trying to push it away, but her hands trembled and her rage only grew.

Yun would’ve been a much better Avatar.

He never would’ve let something like this happen under his watch.

Rangi’s lips curled into a snarl.

Kyoshi doesn’t deserve to be the Avatar.

Yun was the Avatar the world needed.

If not for Kyoshi, Kelsang would be alive.

My mother’s honor would be whole.

My mother would be healthy.

The poisonous thoughts clouded her mind like the noxious, gaseous vapors that Nyahitha used for his fraudulent “Fire Sage” business.

Fraud.

Just like Kyoshi.

Half-baked.

Failure.

Useless.

She’s worse than Kuruk.

Kuruk failed the world.

Kyoshi failed me.

“Rangi?”

She was startled out of the virulent train of thought by the sound of Jinpa’s voice, soft-spoken and cautious.

Her concentration broken, her head snapped up, before letting out a sharp hiss of pain as the metal coils she was heating seared a long, twisting burn across her palm, jerking her hand back.

She turned to Jinpa slowly, her gaze baleful as she stared him down, grinding out a low, dangerous, “... what?”

Jinpa flinched a little, wringing his hands as he hesitated to speak for a second, before finally swallowing hard. “I… I want you to know… Kyoshi—she loves you. And by extension, your mother. If… if she didn’t, she wouldn’t have tried so hard to save Hei-Ran.”

Rangi glared at him, her knuckles beginning to smolder again as she hissed, “Was that all you came here to say, Brother Jinpa, or was there more? Because I would consider your next words very carefully.”

Jinpa hesitated for a second longer, before finally whispering, “I just… I just think you should give her another chance. Hear her out. She had her reasons. Even if they weren’t good ones… she’s trying her best.”

“Get. Out.” Rangi’s voice was pure ice, starkly juxtaposed to her blazing eyes, her free hand clenching into a fist as she placed her uninjured hand on the burner again.

Jinpa paled, and having said his piece, showed a wisdom far beyond what he had at any other time that day, and promptly skedaddled his way out of the kitchen.

Rangi glared down at the steaming noodles, her foot tapping impatiently as she waited for them to finish cooking, but her mind began to wander, mulling over Jinpa’s words.

Why had she been thinking such things?

Kyoshi wasn’t a failure. She had been dealing with unspeakable hardships ever since her reveal as the Avatar.

Shame bubbled up in Rangi’s throat—not enough to quell the anger still burning through her veins—but enough to bring a few stray tears to her eyes, before quickly blinking them away. She removed her hand from the burner, straining out the boiling water and dumping the noodles into a bowl, trying to stay calm.

She gritted her teeth, inhaling sharply through her nose as she grabbed a pair of wooden chopsticks and stepped out of the kitchen, holding the bowl with her unburnt hand, her expression daring any of the others to make eye contact or try to stop her.

None did.

They all stared at the grain in the wooden tables they sat at, or pretended not to notice her.

Fine by Rangi.

She stormed up the stairs, her hands shaking as she practically kicked the door to her mother’s bedroom open—and coming face-to-face with Kyoshi in the process.

Rangi’s breath caught.

The taller girl’s face was red and blotchy, her eyes bloodshot and her nose running a little. She froze as soon as she laid eyes on the Firebender, and there was a long moment of tense silence between them.

Rangi swallowed hard, glowering viciously at the Avatar and thrusting the steaming bowl of noodles into her hands.

“You—haven’t—eaten—since—yesterday—afternoon!” Rangi spat, her voice somewhere between a snarl and a shout. She hurled the disposable chopsticks on the ground, clenching her jaw again and whirling around on her heel, leaving as abruptly as she’d entered.

She pretended not to see the way Kyoshi’s watery eyes widened, or the smug smile on her mother’s face.

She exhaled through her nose, trying to re-center herself.

She needed something else to do.

Shopping.

She could go shopping for supplies, right?

Rangi groaned, heaving the bags of provisions higher in her arms, cursing quietly as they sagged even further.

Why had she volunteered to do this again?

When she’d first returned with their supplies, Hei-Ran had instantly snapped back into commander mode, scrawling a quick list of groceries for her to get. Even more of them.

Rangi had been trained as a First Lieutenant of the Fire Nation Army, and her mother wanted her to go grocery shopping.

She growled a string of unintelligible swears under her breath as she rounded the corner of a building, heading towards the inn again—only to stop dead in her tracks.

Lady Huazo of the Saowon clan sat in a rumpled heap in the saddle of Yingyong, Jinpa sitting at the bison’s withers and Kyoshi halfway into climbing up onto his back. The latter froze as soon as she saw Rangi, her face paling a little.

All at once, the materials she’d bought slipped from her hands, the bags crashing to the ground and sending fruit, vegetables, medicinal herbs and supplies tumbling across the rocky, barren ground.

“What is going on here?” Rangi’s voice was hard as she scrambled forward, rushing to Kyoshi’s side and grabbing her arm, trying to pull her down from the saddle. “Have you lost your mind ?”

Kyoshi’s face was ashen, and she stared down at Rangi for a long minute.

Then, slowly, she brought one of her fans out, spreading it open, the golden leaf glinting in the sunlight—and Earthbent Rangi into the ground up to her shins.

Rangi’s eyes widened.

“What in the name of— Kyoshi, is this you?” She stared at Kyoshi, before bending over, clawing at the earth with her bare hands, trying unsuccessfully to free herself. “Stop it! Let me out!”

Kyoshi’s expression wavered, guilt and shame blooming across her face as she leaned down, pressing a slow, soft kiss to the top of her Firebender’s head, her voice a hoarse, desperate whisper. “Please forgive me.”

Rangi’s head snapped up, her eyes locking with Kyoshi’s as the Avatar swung her legs up into the saddle, the sky bison giving a low rumble that shook the ground as Jinpa jostled the reins, slapping his tail against the earth and lifting off into the sky.

“Kyoshi.” Rangi’s hands shook, her hand reaching up towards the distancing silhouette of her lover. “Kyoshi!”

“Kyoshi!”

Her voice cracked, her eyes beginning to brim with tears as her hand fell limply to her side, knees buckling beneath her weight and sending her crashing to the ground.

What had Kyoshi just done?