Fic Update
Title: Crossroads of Indecision
Rating: T
Pairings: Kurofai
Chaper: 4
Kurogane left the Northern Water Tribe to seek what he lost, a simple task made difficult by an air nomad who never wanted to be found. At the crossroads of their life, they could choose a path forged with hope for the future, or one burdened by the mistakes of the past.
An Avatar: the last airbender crossover. Even though this set in the Avatar world, the period takes place before the series, during the time Kyoshi was Avatar.
Air Nomad’s Lament II
oOo
Airbending was the element of freedom, freedom from personal constraints, freedom from worldly concerns. The mastered airbender exemplified these traits. Fai believed Ashura exemplified these traits. His knowledge and insight was unrestrained. Given a problem, the man could give ten solutions and pick the best one, while at the same time experimenting with the worst. He was modest in personality, but his spirit could not be tempered.
Reverently, Fai practiced Ashura’s unique technique, creating a void in the air, taking the element away from a space and transforming something into nothing. The force of the technique was surprisingly destructive, creating an opposing force for all existence. Taking the element of air away could collapse buildings, abandoned of course, even crumble metal as though it was paper. He instructed Fai in all his techniques as if he was trying to unburden this weight, but Fai was not a sufficient catalyst. He still clumsily fumbled through his lessons, not able to absorb all of Ashura’s skills.
Although Fai was hesitant to admit it, his mentor had changed since the day he met him, as if his spirit strained from the overbearing weight of his insight and knowledge. He often caught Ashura wandering at night, with his white cloak giving him a ghostly appearance, alone in the world with no equal. One night, while overlooking a grassy moor, Ashura asked him, “What would you call true freedom?”
Feeling as if he was answering a well-rehearsed test question, he replied, “Freedom is detachment from worldly desires.”
“If that is the case then are any of us free?” The young airbender knew of his own attachment, his own weakness, but he always thought of his former-master as a free man.
“Fai, what do you think of me?” he said, closing his eyes. Fai thought he smiled, but then he thought it was the trick of the moonlight.
The winds blew against Fai’s ear, trying to tell him an important secret, as if the moor was whispering a warning. He ignored this because Ashura just asked him an important question. “You’ve been everything to me since I lost Yuui. You’re the most important person in my life.”
“That’s what I thought. Thank you Fai.” The wind howled more earnestly, but Fai asked his mentor, “For what?” He knew that Ashura was not grateful for Fai like he was for him; his mentor held no attachments for his pupil. What they had was a quiet, mutual existence of pleasant company. Fai was content with that.
“You just answered a question that I have wondered for quite some time now.” His master left him with that cryptic message, but Fai did not mull it over. Even if he did concern himself with Ashura’s quirks, he doubted he would be able to decipher the complex trappings of his master’s thoughts.
He never truly understood his old master, and that was a great regret.
Perhaps it was Fai’s imagination or he was more astute than he gave himself credit for, but Kurogane seemed happy. Well, perhaps happy was an insignificant word to describe Kurogane. His nature wasn’t to be full of joy. For a lack of a better word, Fai would call him happy.
He rested on the furs next to Fai, head propped, eyes closed. His position was too uncomfortable to sleep or meditate, but he did look serene. All the frown lines on his face were smooth, and he relaxed his hand on Fai’s hip. He tried to pinpoint the source of Kurogane’s happiness, but could not find any significant change in his hut. The half bottle of fermented sweet plums probably helped, but alcohol alone could not bring happiness.
“Are you happy Kuro-chi?” His own limbs felt like noodles and the alcohol rose to his cheeks.
“Was,” he grunted, “When it was quiet. Do you have other plans, or do you just want to make noise like usual.”
“It’s too cold to do anything but talk. I have to thank you for sharing your bed and booze with me. I don’t think I could make it past this winter without it.” Feeling the draft creep into the furs, he wiggled closer to Kurogane’s heat. Accustomed to warm breezes, the chilly winter air of the north practically haunted him.
“I’ve seen children handle the winter better than you,” he said, sounding like a grumbling platypus-bear. Despite his reproach, he put his arms around the shivering airbender, who took advantage of the vulnerability, and nudged his head under the man’s chin.
“Comfortable?” Kurogane’s voice rumbled in his chest. His words reverberated against Fai like a drum skin. The waterbender was solid and surrounding him with warmth. He wondered how he felt to Kurogane. Was he just as solid, or did he feel unsubstantial between his arms, like an empty space?
A question hovered in the air, something Fai avoided voicing. Giving thoughts voice gave them meaning and weight. Without a voice, a thought was just nothing. “What do you think of me?” he said suddenly, words escaping his mouth before he decided whether or whether not he really wanted an answer.
“Right now?”
“Every day.”
Kurogane’s words were always raw and powerful, so Fai believed that any answer would be full of damning conviction. “That’s a stupid question. I don’t have the same opinion every day. Sometimes you annoy me. You don’t always tell the truth. You don’t consider the consequences of your actions. I think you do it on purpose.” Fai frowned in his arms. Kurogane did not have any delusions about Fai, yet he still accepted him and his flaws.
The waterbender mistook his confusion for anger, as he quickly added, “You’re not that bad. You’re concerned with others more than yourself, and I feel as if someone should watch over you or something.” His tongue stumbled with the compliment, an unfamiliar exercise for the waterbender.
“What makes you think I am concerned about others, or that I need someone to watch over me?” He did not answer immediately. They did not move and barely breathed.
“The other day,” he said at last, “You comforted that little girl that was bullied by the other kids. You showed her the waterbending moves that I showed you and stayed with her until she did not cry.”
“Pannya,” said Fai, remembering the little girl. “I didn’t know you were watching.”
“You were late for our session. I saw and waited.” Although, Fai was not convinced that he was a caring person, Kurogane still made his point. He saw more of Fai than Fai let him see, and that was worrisome, as he still had something he had to guard. He wrapped his arms around himself tightly, as if he could lock his secrets inside.
“There’s something else,” Kurogane said, “Teaching girls waterbending is forbidden in our tribe. I told no one. Princess Tomoyo may let it pass, but some more traditional men might put pressure on the situation.”
“So what I did was careless. Why didn’t you stop me, Master Kuro?”
“You can be careless at times, but I saw no reason to stop you.”
“That was unusually kind of you.”
The skin tighten around Kurogane’s chest as he slowly inhaled. This close, Fai could feel the trachea’s pathways, how the energy rushed into the waterbender’s body through his throat. “You say that as if I am not ever kind,” he said, voice sounding rougher with the effort of trying to sound smooth.
“Most people do not think sandpaper is kind either, but that is what a woodworker chooses to round out the edges of an armrest. To a woodworker, sandpaper is very kind,” said Fai, proud of his words. Kurogane did not appreciate his words as much as Fai had hoped. By the look of his face, Fai might have spoken in gibberish.
“I am sandpaper.”
Fai nodded, inching his cold toes closer to Kurogane while he was distracted. “And that would make me wood, a large, rough piece of unpolished wood. Maybe you should rub me?” “Aren’t you supposed to be a monk?” “Honestly, Kuro-chi, where do you think little monks come from?” They were so close together, but Fai kept his distance, with smart little comments, with distracting innuendo, and if that didn’t work, he could always rely on the waterbender’s temperament.
“Damn it! Don’t stick your cold feet done there!”
Sometimes, an hour could disappear in a moment of inattention. At other times, an hour stretched into days in anticipation for the next hour. As Fai tried to hold onto his hours, they slipped through his fingers like sand. Ashura would tell Fai that he was trying to obtain something that no mortal could rightfully own. He did not need his master to tell him that he was foolish. Those lessons echoed within Fai. All he needed to do was to listen.
Everywhere, sand glistened like gems. On the outskirts of a desert oasis, he stood alone in the burning sun. The only sound of life was the buzzing of buzzards. Heavy heat rolled off his sunburned back. He did not know which was more uncomfortable, the heat or Ashura’s inevitable departure.
Taking a wide stance, he made his first strike, flicking his wrist as he gathered the chi, and with a quick clench of his hand, he dispersed the chi, leaving nothing in its place.
Crack!
The sand blew apart with an unseen force, leaving a deep fissure. He rotated around, striking another area with the same movement, repeating the same action.
Crack! Crack!
The force created a few more fissures. Then he collapsed on all fours, gasping for air. Despite his surroundings, he felt as if he was drowning, struggling to breathe. Worse yet, he did not know the weight that held him down. Although the actual movements for Ashura’s type of bending were not strenuous, it drained his energy quicker than his usual airbending. He was not Ashura who made the task look effortless.
He felt the airbender’s presence before he heard him approach. The man looked unmarked by the desert, his billowing cloak as immaculate as ever. The master airbender was able to walk without being affected by the physical world. Fai always wondered if he really was mortal as he claimed and not a spirit.
“They say that a tiger-dillo uses all his strength when cornered,” said Ashura as he surveyed his former pupil’s exhausted form.
He stood on shaky knees. “I do not think I am much like a tiger-dillo.” Ashura’s eyes looked past Fai, as if seeing something other than his student. Because of this, His master always saw past deceptions, never acknowledging anything other than the truth. Finally, in a minute that stretched longer than it should have, Ashura acknowledged him.
“You are more like a spider-fly, trapped in your own web. At this rate you will exhaust yourself to death.” He pinched the bridge of his nose as if trying to stave off a headache, “No, I apologize… I should have never taught you a technique you are not mentally prepared for.” A forlorn smile crept on his face as Ashura voiced what Fai already knew.
“I don’t even think I was prepared to be a master airbender.” The blue arrows on his hands looked like scars to him, the mark of a mistake. His hands shook, from weakness and uncertainty. He did not let his expression belay his concern, though. He did not want his master to worry.
“True, the monks were hasty with their decision,” he said softly, “But I do not doubt that you met their expectations.” But he did not meet Ashura’s expectations. He continued to talk, his voice melting with the desert heat, unrelenting but true, “I should have known, with your disposition, it is impossible for you to master….Fai, I want you to cease this training when I leave.”
“I guess I failed you then. That’s why you’re leaving me.”
His master shook his head. “I am leaving you of my own volition.” The sun peaked under the horizon, bathing the desert in orange light. The day slowly gave way for night. So this was the evening of their time together as mentor and student. “I do not know when our paths will cross again, but when they do I would like a promise.”
“I will.” He stood up and faced the other airbender.
“I will have a question for you. I would like an honest answer.” “But…” Ashura’s eyes, like the clear sky, looked at him pleadingly. “I will.”
Keeping his eyes on the ground, he did not see Ashura approach. When a little bit of weight was placed on his shoulders, he was shocked. A rosary and pendant. Ashura’s pendant, with his four-pronged crest etched into the wood. “I can’t… Not many monks get to wear this sign of respect.”
“It suits you better than me,” he said with understated confidence. He was not the type of man who would give a compliment, nor was he the type of man to lie. This symbol of Ashura’s respect was his. Why? He could only grasp blindly for an answer.
He closed his eyes and soaked in this moment, feeling the last rays of daylight on his back.
His past was almost a muddled dream now, and it should have no effect on the present. Time was funny though. The past sometimes sneaked into his life unexpected. Presently, he was watching Kurogane and the other waterbenders perform for Tomoyo’s festival. The waterbender stretched his lucid muscles, swirling the water in front of him like a whip and Fai saw his old master creating a vortex. The crowd awed at the synchronized display of mastery and he heard the howling wind. Distance did not dull the memories.
“Try the sweet bean puffs, I think you’ll like them,” said Tomoyo, crouching next to him. Her bangles twinkled merrily as she took a seat.
“It’s from the Earth Kingdom isn’t it?” Fai had tried them before, but he nibbled on the end of one pastry anyway. Taking his eyes off Kurogane for a moment, he looked around the crowd of visitors, spotting some green Earth Kingdom garb in the crowd and a few red Fire Nation citizens. “You put together quite a party Tomoyo.”
“Yes, but no airbenders came this year. I had hopes of introducing you to Kujaku. You two would have gotten along well,” she said, sighing wistfully.
“I’m sorry that we airbenders are so hard to catch.”
“We managed to catch you.”
“Yes, but I am an easy catch.” He laughed as she swatted at him playfully. Charming was not a word he used often, but that was a fitting word for the princess.
As the waterbenders left the stage, three women in red replaced them. The youngest had fiery eyes and hair to match, tied back in a whip-like braid. The oldest of the woman was a tall maiden with auburn curls and the most revealing armor. The last woman had hair that trailed like a black cape and eyes as keen as eagle eyes. This woman, with her composure and her delicate features, reminded him of someone.
“My sister,” said Tomoyo fondly. She rested her chin on her hands and watched the ladies with warmth in her eyes.
The firebenders began, forming rings of fire in the arena. Each movement was like a tigress’s strike. Force turned into energy; energy turned into fire. The rings broke apart into smaller flames and danced around the masters. The red tongues whipped around the performers, illuminating their skin, but never touching them. Perfect energy. Perfect synchronization. Perfect balance.
“Hey.” The gruff voice could only belong to one master. Kurogane grabbed a piece of salted blue salmon as he sat next to Fai, no other words of greeting needed.
Fai greeted, “Kuro-foo-foo, we were just talking about you.” He choked on the fish, swallowing the food with pained difficulty. “What the hell!” He leered over the only airbender, but he was not able to intimidate with Tomoyo giggling on the side.
“Your performance was splendid, Kurogane,” said Tomoyo, easily slipping into a new topic. “But if you hadn’t represented our tribe well, I would have punished you severely.”
Fai, not wanting to miss a little teasing at Kurogane’s expense, said, “But his follow through with the water whip was stiff. I know he is more flexible tha..mmph.” A slice of spotted cucumber was shoved in his mouth. “Eat your stupid vegetables.” Kurogane hid his face, which was a gorgeous shade of rouge. The crowd’s cheers swallowed the waterbender’s incoherent grumbling that followed.
“Fai, I am sorry for interrupting, but I would like an answer for a question.” He truly felt that the princess was interested in this answer. Sometimes Tomoyo spoke just to ease a situation. Now could have been one of those times, but she was too earnest. “I’m sorry it is such short notice, but since this is a celebration of the four nations, would you represent airbending?” Fai blanched more than Kurogane.
“I don’t think I have anything interesting to show. You can’t really see air, after all.” He was keenly aware of wolfish eyes regarding him.
Tomoyo nodded, for once looking as if she did not have an answer prepared. She must have expected him to accept. “Thank you for an answer.” She kept his gaze, and he grew uncomfortable with her sincere eyes. He feigned interest in the firebending as he apologized.
For their finale, the three women created dozens of dancing flames that floated on an invisible chandelier. They tossed the fire back and forth, as they twisted on the stage. When the firebenders finished their routine and took a bow, everyone cheered the last performance of the night.
Fai breathed steadily, feeling his lungs expand and his muscles relaxed. He exhaled, releasing a small amount of energy and inhaled new energy. He focused on his breath. Eye closed, legs crossed, thumbs together, he was a still lake in spring.
Although he was tranquil on the surface, his chi was chaotic. The depths of his soul was churning. A person could still drown in still waters. An undercurrent existed beneath the surface. He sometimes felt it try to pull him down, but he ignored it as long as he could keep his head above water. He had no name for this foreboding feeling that crept under the surface. This threat had no form yet. He feared it all the same.
The air nomad shivered as the waterfall trickled down his bare back. He continually surprised himself with how bad of a monk he was. He could not even meditate under a waterfall. The other monks told him that he had a monkey mind that jumped everywhere, and he had to agree with them. Teeth chattering, he snapped from his position and leaped out of the waterfall, reaching the shore in one bound.
He never could meditate for long.
It had been almost a year since he last saw Ashura. He knew he would meet Ashura again because he made a promise to him. The heavy pendant that weighed around his neck reminded him of that promise. Squeezing his loincloth out absently, he wondered if his old master was well, how much he changed, if he still remembered Fai. The solitude crept up on him then.
“Come now Fai,” he said to himself, as he unfolded a set of crisp robes, “You’re not a child anymore. You cannot just run back to Ashura because you feel lonely.” He sounded much like an adult as he said that.
A mentor and student shared a unique bond, and Fai realized that was what he missed. He did not want to revert to a student. When a hermit crab leaves its shell, he does not wish to return to the cramped space. Ashura shared his life and knowledge with him. It was his duty not to let that gift stagnate. Gifts like that should be passed on, he reasoned. Perhaps one day he would have an apprentice too, and pass onto him the tradition that was timeless to the air nomads. With a sunny smile, he used airbending to fling his bag to himself. Happier and warmer, he set out on his journey to the Northern Air Temple, where he might rendezvous with Ashura. He walked further into the woods, formulating a strategy to deliver the news to his old master. As he thought about it, the idea became more solid, turning into a dream, and then a plan. By the time he reached the main road, he knew he wanted to be a mentor.
He almost forgot about the other news, one that would concern not just Ashura. Rumors spread through the territory like a plague, of a white spirit that stole the soul from a person’s body, leaving lifeless husks. He clutched the staff in his hands. Traveling alone was a perilous life. Being just a mortal, he could do nothing about the deaths and hoped Ashura would have answers.
The earth rumbled under his feet and a sound like a hammer being struck on a hard surface warned him moments before a piece of earth shot up in front of him. He leaped back, feeling the air whip around him. More earth tried to engulf him and he dived out of the way, each second crucial to avoid the moving rock. Using airbender he threw back the rock that flew at him while ducking and twirling out of the way of more earth.
Finally, he put his hands up while sidestepping out of the way of more rocks. “All right.” His voice, though diplomatic and friendly, had an underlying tone of exasperation. “This simple monk is impressed. Your display of earthbending is good enough to warrant a reward don’t you think?” The earth encased him, and he welcomed his attackers like old friends, with a grin and a warm welcome. Three men. No. Two men and one boy.
He thought about just blowing them away, but preferred to resolve conflict nonviolently. The world already had enough violence. Perhaps he could set an example for the young men. The price for surrendering would more than likely be his possessions. It was just easier to give it up.
“Just a stick and junk. Is this how you plan to pay passage through Shin’s territory?” With a clatter, his staff and his belongings were tossed to the ground.
Fai thought. Shin… the general that plagued the northern territory, a threat to independent Earth Kingdom villages and a tyrant who was infamous for his incredibly short stature and shorter temper. He wondered who these rogues were, as the latest news was that Shin led a campaign south to challenge Avatar Kyoshi. Stragglers most likely. Men who avoided the front lines. Fai didn’t blame them, though.
“I’m sorry I have nothing valuable. I think the fruit tart is worth stealing personally. I wouldn’t want you to come out of this empty handed.” They shared perplexed looks, asking each other if this strange man was worth their time.
“Are you sure you don’t have anything valuable, monk?” One such man, chosen to be the spokesperson based on his intimidating figure no doubt, stepped in front of the trapped airbender, so all he could see was his barrel chest. The narrow forest path suddenly seemed more narrow.
“Only that which is valuable to me. I do not need much to live….” Fai trailed off as he realized something unusual. Familiar with the forest, he immediately noticed the silence around him. The birds stopped chirping and any sounds of animals were of those that scattered away.
“If you are ly-ai-ai….” The man grasped his chest as if struck, and he fell to his knees, convulsing. As spasms wracked his body, his comrades stared in horror, backing away from the airbender as if he were a demon. The man thrashed on the ground, hand clutching his throat in his last death throws, trying to keep his soul from escaping. The life was sucked out of him, and he could do nothing.
Gliding towards them was a figure in white, a spirit that walked in the sun. Raising pale palms and clutching long fingers, it took the life from the other two men. Fai could hear it this time, the sound of ribs cracking, collapsing on their lungs, suffocating even their screams of pain and fear. His earth prison crumbled along with the other two men’s life, and he collapsed to the ground as well. The breath in his own lungs felt heavier as he recognized this man. The feeling of drowning returned, as did the unnamed fear.
Spirits did not throw shadows, but Fai knew the moment he felt the presence in the woods, this was no spirit. He looked at him, his mentor, and friend, and found the name for his unnamed fear. “Ashura.” The word was uttered like a gasp. Some sane part of him a long time ago tried to warn him of this undercurrent, of the changing waves. He had nothing left to do but drown. Prepared to feel death’s finger, he was surprised when a gentle hand rested on his shoulder, surprised but no less frightened. The touch of his hand felt as comforting as a blade.
“Fai, are you capable of setting me free?”
Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5
oOo
I will just like to add that I love the weird biology of Avatar: The Last Airbender. Tiger-dillos and spider-flies do not undermine the seriousness of the story…much. Okay, they do, but they are still fun. In the spirit of Avatar, I made squid-root up.
I hope I didn’t disappoint. I find that the way Ashura hurt Fai was entirely internal. Ashura was the one who built Fai up, gave him hope, so he is the one who can easily crush his spirits and make him question his worth and existence. I still believe that they had a deep and mutual bond and that Ashura cared for Fai. It just so happens that Ashura could not protect Fai from himself that well. At least that was how I saw it in canon. Oh, and Ashura-ou is not a rapist. XP
Sorry for the lat update. I have been quite busy. I will be busy until August 10. Then I get a little break. Fic production has been slow, but I have been writing. I will finish this story if it is the last thing I do, so don’t worry if the update time takes a little longer than usual.
Rating: T
Pairings: Kurofai
Chaper: 4
Kurogane left the Northern Water Tribe to seek what he lost, a simple task made difficult by an air nomad who never wanted to be found. At the crossroads of their life, they could choose a path forged with hope for the future, or one burdened by the mistakes of the past.
An Avatar: the last airbender crossover. Even though this set in the Avatar world, the period takes place before the series, during the time Kyoshi was Avatar.
Air Nomad’s Lament II
oOo
Airbending was the element of freedom, freedom from personal constraints, freedom from worldly concerns. The mastered airbender exemplified these traits. Fai believed Ashura exemplified these traits. His knowledge and insight was unrestrained. Given a problem, the man could give ten solutions and pick the best one, while at the same time experimenting with the worst. He was modest in personality, but his spirit could not be tempered.
Reverently, Fai practiced Ashura’s unique technique, creating a void in the air, taking the element away from a space and transforming something into nothing. The force of the technique was surprisingly destructive, creating an opposing force for all existence. Taking the element of air away could collapse buildings, abandoned of course, even crumble metal as though it was paper. He instructed Fai in all his techniques as if he was trying to unburden this weight, but Fai was not a sufficient catalyst. He still clumsily fumbled through his lessons, not able to absorb all of Ashura’s skills.
Although Fai was hesitant to admit it, his mentor had changed since the day he met him, as if his spirit strained from the overbearing weight of his insight and knowledge. He often caught Ashura wandering at night, with his white cloak giving him a ghostly appearance, alone in the world with no equal. One night, while overlooking a grassy moor, Ashura asked him, “What would you call true freedom?”
Feeling as if he was answering a well-rehearsed test question, he replied, “Freedom is detachment from worldly desires.”
“If that is the case then are any of us free?” The young airbender knew of his own attachment, his own weakness, but he always thought of his former-master as a free man.
“Fai, what do you think of me?” he said, closing his eyes. Fai thought he smiled, but then he thought it was the trick of the moonlight.
The winds blew against Fai’s ear, trying to tell him an important secret, as if the moor was whispering a warning. He ignored this because Ashura just asked him an important question. “You’ve been everything to me since I lost Yuui. You’re the most important person in my life.”
“That’s what I thought. Thank you Fai.” The wind howled more earnestly, but Fai asked his mentor, “For what?” He knew that Ashura was not grateful for Fai like he was for him; his mentor held no attachments for his pupil. What they had was a quiet, mutual existence of pleasant company. Fai was content with that.
“You just answered a question that I have wondered for quite some time now.” His master left him with that cryptic message, but Fai did not mull it over. Even if he did concern himself with Ashura’s quirks, he doubted he would be able to decipher the complex trappings of his master’s thoughts.
He never truly understood his old master, and that was a great regret.
Perhaps it was Fai’s imagination or he was more astute than he gave himself credit for, but Kurogane seemed happy. Well, perhaps happy was an insignificant word to describe Kurogane. His nature wasn’t to be full of joy. For a lack of a better word, Fai would call him happy.
He rested on the furs next to Fai, head propped, eyes closed. His position was too uncomfortable to sleep or meditate, but he did look serene. All the frown lines on his face were smooth, and he relaxed his hand on Fai’s hip. He tried to pinpoint the source of Kurogane’s happiness, but could not find any significant change in his hut. The half bottle of fermented sweet plums probably helped, but alcohol alone could not bring happiness.
“Are you happy Kuro-chi?” His own limbs felt like noodles and the alcohol rose to his cheeks.
“Was,” he grunted, “When it was quiet. Do you have other plans, or do you just want to make noise like usual.”
“It’s too cold to do anything but talk. I have to thank you for sharing your bed and booze with me. I don’t think I could make it past this winter without it.” Feeling the draft creep into the furs, he wiggled closer to Kurogane’s heat. Accustomed to warm breezes, the chilly winter air of the north practically haunted him.
“I’ve seen children handle the winter better than you,” he said, sounding like a grumbling platypus-bear. Despite his reproach, he put his arms around the shivering airbender, who took advantage of the vulnerability, and nudged his head under the man’s chin.
“Comfortable?” Kurogane’s voice rumbled in his chest. His words reverberated against Fai like a drum skin. The waterbender was solid and surrounding him with warmth. He wondered how he felt to Kurogane. Was he just as solid, or did he feel unsubstantial between his arms, like an empty space?
A question hovered in the air, something Fai avoided voicing. Giving thoughts voice gave them meaning and weight. Without a voice, a thought was just nothing. “What do you think of me?” he said suddenly, words escaping his mouth before he decided whether or whether not he really wanted an answer.
“Right now?”
“Every day.”
Kurogane’s words were always raw and powerful, so Fai believed that any answer would be full of damning conviction. “That’s a stupid question. I don’t have the same opinion every day. Sometimes you annoy me. You don’t always tell the truth. You don’t consider the consequences of your actions. I think you do it on purpose.” Fai frowned in his arms. Kurogane did not have any delusions about Fai, yet he still accepted him and his flaws.
The waterbender mistook his confusion for anger, as he quickly added, “You’re not that bad. You’re concerned with others more than yourself, and I feel as if someone should watch over you or something.” His tongue stumbled with the compliment, an unfamiliar exercise for the waterbender.
“What makes you think I am concerned about others, or that I need someone to watch over me?” He did not answer immediately. They did not move and barely breathed.
“The other day,” he said at last, “You comforted that little girl that was bullied by the other kids. You showed her the waterbending moves that I showed you and stayed with her until she did not cry.”
“Pannya,” said Fai, remembering the little girl. “I didn’t know you were watching.”
“You were late for our session. I saw and waited.” Although, Fai was not convinced that he was a caring person, Kurogane still made his point. He saw more of Fai than Fai let him see, and that was worrisome, as he still had something he had to guard. He wrapped his arms around himself tightly, as if he could lock his secrets inside.
“There’s something else,” Kurogane said, “Teaching girls waterbending is forbidden in our tribe. I told no one. Princess Tomoyo may let it pass, but some more traditional men might put pressure on the situation.”
“So what I did was careless. Why didn’t you stop me, Master Kuro?”
“You can be careless at times, but I saw no reason to stop you.”
“That was unusually kind of you.”
The skin tighten around Kurogane’s chest as he slowly inhaled. This close, Fai could feel the trachea’s pathways, how the energy rushed into the waterbender’s body through his throat. “You say that as if I am not ever kind,” he said, voice sounding rougher with the effort of trying to sound smooth.
“Most people do not think sandpaper is kind either, but that is what a woodworker chooses to round out the edges of an armrest. To a woodworker, sandpaper is very kind,” said Fai, proud of his words. Kurogane did not appreciate his words as much as Fai had hoped. By the look of his face, Fai might have spoken in gibberish.
“I am sandpaper.”
Fai nodded, inching his cold toes closer to Kurogane while he was distracted. “And that would make me wood, a large, rough piece of unpolished wood. Maybe you should rub me?” “Aren’t you supposed to be a monk?” “Honestly, Kuro-chi, where do you think little monks come from?” They were so close together, but Fai kept his distance, with smart little comments, with distracting innuendo, and if that didn’t work, he could always rely on the waterbender’s temperament.
“Damn it! Don’t stick your cold feet done there!”
Sometimes, an hour could disappear in a moment of inattention. At other times, an hour stretched into days in anticipation for the next hour. As Fai tried to hold onto his hours, they slipped through his fingers like sand. Ashura would tell Fai that he was trying to obtain something that no mortal could rightfully own. He did not need his master to tell him that he was foolish. Those lessons echoed within Fai. All he needed to do was to listen.
Everywhere, sand glistened like gems. On the outskirts of a desert oasis, he stood alone in the burning sun. The only sound of life was the buzzing of buzzards. Heavy heat rolled off his sunburned back. He did not know which was more uncomfortable, the heat or Ashura’s inevitable departure.
Taking a wide stance, he made his first strike, flicking his wrist as he gathered the chi, and with a quick clench of his hand, he dispersed the chi, leaving nothing in its place.
Crack!
The sand blew apart with an unseen force, leaving a deep fissure. He rotated around, striking another area with the same movement, repeating the same action.
Crack! Crack!
The force created a few more fissures. Then he collapsed on all fours, gasping for air. Despite his surroundings, he felt as if he was drowning, struggling to breathe. Worse yet, he did not know the weight that held him down. Although the actual movements for Ashura’s type of bending were not strenuous, it drained his energy quicker than his usual airbending. He was not Ashura who made the task look effortless.
He felt the airbender’s presence before he heard him approach. The man looked unmarked by the desert, his billowing cloak as immaculate as ever. The master airbender was able to walk without being affected by the physical world. Fai always wondered if he really was mortal as he claimed and not a spirit.
“They say that a tiger-dillo uses all his strength when cornered,” said Ashura as he surveyed his former pupil’s exhausted form.
He stood on shaky knees. “I do not think I am much like a tiger-dillo.” Ashura’s eyes looked past Fai, as if seeing something other than his student. Because of this, His master always saw past deceptions, never acknowledging anything other than the truth. Finally, in a minute that stretched longer than it should have, Ashura acknowledged him.
“You are more like a spider-fly, trapped in your own web. At this rate you will exhaust yourself to death.” He pinched the bridge of his nose as if trying to stave off a headache, “No, I apologize… I should have never taught you a technique you are not mentally prepared for.” A forlorn smile crept on his face as Ashura voiced what Fai already knew.
“I don’t even think I was prepared to be a master airbender.” The blue arrows on his hands looked like scars to him, the mark of a mistake. His hands shook, from weakness and uncertainty. He did not let his expression belay his concern, though. He did not want his master to worry.
“True, the monks were hasty with their decision,” he said softly, “But I do not doubt that you met their expectations.” But he did not meet Ashura’s expectations. He continued to talk, his voice melting with the desert heat, unrelenting but true, “I should have known, with your disposition, it is impossible for you to master….Fai, I want you to cease this training when I leave.”
“I guess I failed you then. That’s why you’re leaving me.”
His master shook his head. “I am leaving you of my own volition.” The sun peaked under the horizon, bathing the desert in orange light. The day slowly gave way for night. So this was the evening of their time together as mentor and student. “I do not know when our paths will cross again, but when they do I would like a promise.”
“I will.” He stood up and faced the other airbender.
“I will have a question for you. I would like an honest answer.” “But…” Ashura’s eyes, like the clear sky, looked at him pleadingly. “I will.”
Keeping his eyes on the ground, he did not see Ashura approach. When a little bit of weight was placed on his shoulders, he was shocked. A rosary and pendant. Ashura’s pendant, with his four-pronged crest etched into the wood. “I can’t… Not many monks get to wear this sign of respect.”
“It suits you better than me,” he said with understated confidence. He was not the type of man who would give a compliment, nor was he the type of man to lie. This symbol of Ashura’s respect was his. Why? He could only grasp blindly for an answer.
He closed his eyes and soaked in this moment, feeling the last rays of daylight on his back.
His past was almost a muddled dream now, and it should have no effect on the present. Time was funny though. The past sometimes sneaked into his life unexpected. Presently, he was watching Kurogane and the other waterbenders perform for Tomoyo’s festival. The waterbender stretched his lucid muscles, swirling the water in front of him like a whip and Fai saw his old master creating a vortex. The crowd awed at the synchronized display of mastery and he heard the howling wind. Distance did not dull the memories.
“Try the sweet bean puffs, I think you’ll like them,” said Tomoyo, crouching next to him. Her bangles twinkled merrily as she took a seat.
“It’s from the Earth Kingdom isn’t it?” Fai had tried them before, but he nibbled on the end of one pastry anyway. Taking his eyes off Kurogane for a moment, he looked around the crowd of visitors, spotting some green Earth Kingdom garb in the crowd and a few red Fire Nation citizens. “You put together quite a party Tomoyo.”
“Yes, but no airbenders came this year. I had hopes of introducing you to Kujaku. You two would have gotten along well,” she said, sighing wistfully.
“I’m sorry that we airbenders are so hard to catch.”
“We managed to catch you.”
“Yes, but I am an easy catch.” He laughed as she swatted at him playfully. Charming was not a word he used often, but that was a fitting word for the princess.
As the waterbenders left the stage, three women in red replaced them. The youngest had fiery eyes and hair to match, tied back in a whip-like braid. The oldest of the woman was a tall maiden with auburn curls and the most revealing armor. The last woman had hair that trailed like a black cape and eyes as keen as eagle eyes. This woman, with her composure and her delicate features, reminded him of someone.
“My sister,” said Tomoyo fondly. She rested her chin on her hands and watched the ladies with warmth in her eyes.
The firebenders began, forming rings of fire in the arena. Each movement was like a tigress’s strike. Force turned into energy; energy turned into fire. The rings broke apart into smaller flames and danced around the masters. The red tongues whipped around the performers, illuminating their skin, but never touching them. Perfect energy. Perfect synchronization. Perfect balance.
“Hey.” The gruff voice could only belong to one master. Kurogane grabbed a piece of salted blue salmon as he sat next to Fai, no other words of greeting needed.
Fai greeted, “Kuro-foo-foo, we were just talking about you.” He choked on the fish, swallowing the food with pained difficulty. “What the hell!” He leered over the only airbender, but he was not able to intimidate with Tomoyo giggling on the side.
“Your performance was splendid, Kurogane,” said Tomoyo, easily slipping into a new topic. “But if you hadn’t represented our tribe well, I would have punished you severely.”
Fai, not wanting to miss a little teasing at Kurogane’s expense, said, “But his follow through with the water whip was stiff. I know he is more flexible tha..mmph.” A slice of spotted cucumber was shoved in his mouth. “Eat your stupid vegetables.” Kurogane hid his face, which was a gorgeous shade of rouge. The crowd’s cheers swallowed the waterbender’s incoherent grumbling that followed.
“Fai, I am sorry for interrupting, but I would like an answer for a question.” He truly felt that the princess was interested in this answer. Sometimes Tomoyo spoke just to ease a situation. Now could have been one of those times, but she was too earnest. “I’m sorry it is such short notice, but since this is a celebration of the four nations, would you represent airbending?” Fai blanched more than Kurogane.
“I don’t think I have anything interesting to show. You can’t really see air, after all.” He was keenly aware of wolfish eyes regarding him.
Tomoyo nodded, for once looking as if she did not have an answer prepared. She must have expected him to accept. “Thank you for an answer.” She kept his gaze, and he grew uncomfortable with her sincere eyes. He feigned interest in the firebending as he apologized.
For their finale, the three women created dozens of dancing flames that floated on an invisible chandelier. They tossed the fire back and forth, as they twisted on the stage. When the firebenders finished their routine and took a bow, everyone cheered the last performance of the night.
Fai breathed steadily, feeling his lungs expand and his muscles relaxed. He exhaled, releasing a small amount of energy and inhaled new energy. He focused on his breath. Eye closed, legs crossed, thumbs together, he was a still lake in spring.
Although he was tranquil on the surface, his chi was chaotic. The depths of his soul was churning. A person could still drown in still waters. An undercurrent existed beneath the surface. He sometimes felt it try to pull him down, but he ignored it as long as he could keep his head above water. He had no name for this foreboding feeling that crept under the surface. This threat had no form yet. He feared it all the same.
The air nomad shivered as the waterfall trickled down his bare back. He continually surprised himself with how bad of a monk he was. He could not even meditate under a waterfall. The other monks told him that he had a monkey mind that jumped everywhere, and he had to agree with them. Teeth chattering, he snapped from his position and leaped out of the waterfall, reaching the shore in one bound.
He never could meditate for long.
It had been almost a year since he last saw Ashura. He knew he would meet Ashura again because he made a promise to him. The heavy pendant that weighed around his neck reminded him of that promise. Squeezing his loincloth out absently, he wondered if his old master was well, how much he changed, if he still remembered Fai. The solitude crept up on him then.
“Come now Fai,” he said to himself, as he unfolded a set of crisp robes, “You’re not a child anymore. You cannot just run back to Ashura because you feel lonely.” He sounded much like an adult as he said that.
A mentor and student shared a unique bond, and Fai realized that was what he missed. He did not want to revert to a student. When a hermit crab leaves its shell, he does not wish to return to the cramped space. Ashura shared his life and knowledge with him. It was his duty not to let that gift stagnate. Gifts like that should be passed on, he reasoned. Perhaps one day he would have an apprentice too, and pass onto him the tradition that was timeless to the air nomads. With a sunny smile, he used airbending to fling his bag to himself. Happier and warmer, he set out on his journey to the Northern Air Temple, where he might rendezvous with Ashura. He walked further into the woods, formulating a strategy to deliver the news to his old master. As he thought about it, the idea became more solid, turning into a dream, and then a plan. By the time he reached the main road, he knew he wanted to be a mentor.
He almost forgot about the other news, one that would concern not just Ashura. Rumors spread through the territory like a plague, of a white spirit that stole the soul from a person’s body, leaving lifeless husks. He clutched the staff in his hands. Traveling alone was a perilous life. Being just a mortal, he could do nothing about the deaths and hoped Ashura would have answers.
The earth rumbled under his feet and a sound like a hammer being struck on a hard surface warned him moments before a piece of earth shot up in front of him. He leaped back, feeling the air whip around him. More earth tried to engulf him and he dived out of the way, each second crucial to avoid the moving rock. Using airbender he threw back the rock that flew at him while ducking and twirling out of the way of more earth.
Finally, he put his hands up while sidestepping out of the way of more rocks. “All right.” His voice, though diplomatic and friendly, had an underlying tone of exasperation. “This simple monk is impressed. Your display of earthbending is good enough to warrant a reward don’t you think?” The earth encased him, and he welcomed his attackers like old friends, with a grin and a warm welcome. Three men. No. Two men and one boy.
He thought about just blowing them away, but preferred to resolve conflict nonviolently. The world already had enough violence. Perhaps he could set an example for the young men. The price for surrendering would more than likely be his possessions. It was just easier to give it up.
“Just a stick and junk. Is this how you plan to pay passage through Shin’s territory?” With a clatter, his staff and his belongings were tossed to the ground.
Fai thought. Shin… the general that plagued the northern territory, a threat to independent Earth Kingdom villages and a tyrant who was infamous for his incredibly short stature and shorter temper. He wondered who these rogues were, as the latest news was that Shin led a campaign south to challenge Avatar Kyoshi. Stragglers most likely. Men who avoided the front lines. Fai didn’t blame them, though.
“I’m sorry I have nothing valuable. I think the fruit tart is worth stealing personally. I wouldn’t want you to come out of this empty handed.” They shared perplexed looks, asking each other if this strange man was worth their time.
“Are you sure you don’t have anything valuable, monk?” One such man, chosen to be the spokesperson based on his intimidating figure no doubt, stepped in front of the trapped airbender, so all he could see was his barrel chest. The narrow forest path suddenly seemed more narrow.
“Only that which is valuable to me. I do not need much to live….” Fai trailed off as he realized something unusual. Familiar with the forest, he immediately noticed the silence around him. The birds stopped chirping and any sounds of animals were of those that scattered away.
“If you are ly-ai-ai….” The man grasped his chest as if struck, and he fell to his knees, convulsing. As spasms wracked his body, his comrades stared in horror, backing away from the airbender as if he were a demon. The man thrashed on the ground, hand clutching his throat in his last death throws, trying to keep his soul from escaping. The life was sucked out of him, and he could do nothing.
Gliding towards them was a figure in white, a spirit that walked in the sun. Raising pale palms and clutching long fingers, it took the life from the other two men. Fai could hear it this time, the sound of ribs cracking, collapsing on their lungs, suffocating even their screams of pain and fear. His earth prison crumbled along with the other two men’s life, and he collapsed to the ground as well. The breath in his own lungs felt heavier as he recognized this man. The feeling of drowning returned, as did the unnamed fear.
Spirits did not throw shadows, but Fai knew the moment he felt the presence in the woods, this was no spirit. He looked at him, his mentor, and friend, and found the name for his unnamed fear. “Ashura.” The word was uttered like a gasp. Some sane part of him a long time ago tried to warn him of this undercurrent, of the changing waves. He had nothing left to do but drown. Prepared to feel death’s finger, he was surprised when a gentle hand rested on his shoulder, surprised but no less frightened. The touch of his hand felt as comforting as a blade.
“Fai, are you capable of setting me free?”
Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5
oOo
I will just like to add that I love the weird biology of Avatar: The Last Airbender. Tiger-dillos and spider-flies do not undermine the seriousness of the story…much. Okay, they do, but they are still fun. In the spirit of Avatar, I made squid-root up.
I hope I didn’t disappoint. I find that the way Ashura hurt Fai was entirely internal. Ashura was the one who built Fai up, gave him hope, so he is the one who can easily crush his spirits and make him question his worth and existence. I still believe that they had a deep and mutual bond and that Ashura cared for Fai. It just so happens that Ashura could not protect Fai from himself that well. At least that was how I saw it in canon. Oh, and Ashura-ou is not a rapist. XP
Sorry for the lat update. I have been quite busy. I will be busy until August 10. Then I get a little break. Fic production has been slow, but I have been writing. I will finish this story if it is the last thing I do, so don’t worry if the update time takes a little longer than usual.