I DON'T OWN AVATAR. I DON'T OWN AVATAR. I don't own Avatar. i don't own avatar.
Echo
Sunlight was a strange thing in this upside-down place. It was a strange thing in general, the way it cut through things like glass and tree leaves without damaging them, like a thin knife doused in super glue. But light was even stranger in the buildings of the Western Air Temple, always seeming to move in the wrong direction. Only with moment's contemplation would it be apparent that the buildings were formed the wrong way, not the light. Whoever built the temple had done a marvelous job of making the architecture the fulcrum of consciousness, greater than the sun, the ground, and even gravity at times. It often felt as if the world was built upside-down, and the Western Air Temple was the only thing that got it right.
Aang felt he was easily at home in such an environment, but he could see it affecting his friends, especially when they woke up. Sokka was the most visibly affected, his dizziness evident in his rubbery stride. On the first morning they spent as a newly formed family, complete with renegade Prince Zuko, the discombobulated Water Tribe warrior stumbled sleepily into a fountain, left to splash wildly about as he searched for the difference between up and down. Of course, it could have just been the result of fatigue. The previous days had been eventful.
There was no way to keep Aang's mind away from the recent bold print added to his lengthy list of failures. Here he was, in a hollow shell of his ancestors for which these perspective-challenging buildings were the only remainders, not including Appa, Momo, and himself. Failure stared at him through the walls in the form of the ghosts of his old friends and family, shadowing him silently no matter where he went. It was devastating to see the temple deserted like this, and even more so to think that the whole world was soon to follow the same fate, all thanks to an inadequate avatar.
These feelings of guilt overrode any discombobulation brought on by the hanging houses.
Sunlight bounced around awkwardly, perspectives morphed, and people began to act strangely. Most obvious, to Aang at least, was Katara, famous for her compassion but choosing now to exhibit her icy disdain for Zuko, throwing an unnerving glare at the firebender and his student whenever they trained. It made Aang worry that if he ever needed her kind voice and healing words, she would opt for silence and disdain instead. She felt so cold to Aang now that even a kiss might not be enough to break through the frost.
Of course the others were being affected by the temple's architecture as well. In an unlikely turn of events, Sokka proved to Toph that he could listen to ugly secrets and respond with warming advice. Aang didn't see it happen himself, but he couldn't miss the aftereffect, watching intently as Sokka and Toph relaxed, smiling and joking together. It was as if Sokka and Katara's souls had switched places, that the intolerant firebender-hating comedian had exchanged bodies with the compassionate motherly figure. Since then, Toph joined the others in behaving differently, displaying more of the homesick twelve-year-old girl than Aang had ever seen.
Aang spent most of his time watching Katara, for obvious reasons. And she started to frighten him, to make him feel that the glares she flung at Zuko were also meant for him. He began to believe that if he kissed her again, those same soft, hesitant lips he'd felt atop that submarine would freeze his mouth, spread ice all the way through to his lungs, and suffocate him. In fact, he was already feeling suffocated.
Not knowing what else to do, Aang made a trip to the all day echo chamber, alone. He walked down a thin corridor, his lonely footsteps reverberating against the walls, and turned at the mouth of the familiar tunnel. It was a long tunnel, so long that Aang had no idea how far it went. Supposedly it stretched for miles and miles, but no one knew or sure. It was too dark to see much, but there was fortunately no need; the all day echo chamber was made for sound, not for sight. There weren't even the paintings of Air Nomads or sky bison that effusively adorned the rest of the temple. Aang fell to his cross-legged meditation position, closing his eyes and clearing his mind.
Contrary to its namesake, the all day echo chamber was not a place where sounds repeated all day without rest, but where they took all day to repeat once. Air Nomads would sit at the mouth of the tunnel, as Aang did now, note the sun's position in the sky, and say something they wanted to hear after a day's difference. It was a method for obtaining advice, a traditional guide devised by the great Air Nomads of old. It was common that one would ask a question to the tunnel, forget it for a day, and later revisit the site with a fresh perspective and a clear head, ready to answer the question that was so haunting the day before. Sometimes a new perspective made all the difference in the world.
It didn't make much sense to Aang, at least not when he visited the temple over a hundred years ago. He could remember playing at the mouth of the tunnel with his friends, daring each other to go deeper in, making funny noises and planning to return the next day, which they never ended up doing. But now Aang understood, and he thought of his questions. They were not questions about his failures. He knew that, no matter how he tried, his failures would forever be like extra limbs, awkwardly inseparable from his body. The questions to ask now all concerned Katara. He wanted to know why, after he had finally worked up the courage to lean in for that long-awaited kiss, that his heart still ached and his lips still tingled sadly like a shooting star that refused to go out.
After he asked his questions, calm and composed, he realized what he needed to do. He was shocked for a moment that such a simple solution existed: he needed to talk to her. That was all, though when he thought more about it the task started to feel as difficult as shooting an arrow at a far away ladybug. He had never truly considered initiating deep conversation with her; that had always been her job. The strange sunlight of the Western Air Temple was even affecting Aang, even though he would have denied it. He and Katara were swapping roles, with the young avatar approaching an obviously troubled Katara, prepared to probe her until she was healed or failure engulf him once again.
So he pulled her aside. She wouldn't look him in the eye as they walked off together, as if she could tell what he wanted to talk about from his tone of voice or the way he walked. They found an open area with a view of the canyon, fog lining the layers of cliff all around. Sunlight reflected off Katara's eyes oddly, reflecting the fog in the canyon, as if she had adopted Toph's murky eyes for a day and dyed them blue.
Aang asked her what was wrong. He told her what he had been noticing, her cold detachment, her hostility. He could help her, if she needed it.
It's the war, she said. And Zuko. And a lot of things, I guess. There's a lot on my mind after the eclipse. Katara didn't look away, not bothering to hide her blush. What would have been the point?
Aang nodded. He knew what she was talking about. He was half relieved that she was thinking about the kiss and not avoiding it, but he was half distraught that it had caused her so much internal conflict. As eloquently as he could, he said, There's nothing wrong with us being together. Even in the middle of a war. It would be easier than just wondering about how we feel, if we could tell each other how we feel. Katara, I…
Katara interrupted him nervously. Nervously? She was not a nervous person. Aang recoiled. She said, I know, I know how you feel, about me. I'm just not ready for it, and you aren't either. We need to focus on the world right now, where we're needed the most. She sighed, and her murky blue eyes clouded over like there was a storm brewing somewhere in the depths of her mind. She continued, You know how much I care for you, and I would be lying if I said it was just in a brotherly way. But what you did on the submarine, it scared me. We're not ready for that kind of thing.
Aang looked over her desperately, her portrait seeming to fade against the backdrop of the canyon, leaving only her long brown hair to wave in the wind like a flag without a pole. He protested, But all those times you kissed me on the cheek, isn't that the same kind of thing?
She explained somberly, In the Water Tribe it's customary to kiss a member of the opposite sex on the cheek as a way of thanking him. Kissing someone's lips is something completely different.
Aang took a deep breath, beginning to realize what the trouble was. It wasn't a problem with him, he understood. He vocalized his realization: You don't want to be kissed. You don't want a physical relationship at all.
Katara's face came back into focus and nodded, apologizing. Her eyes were clear again, the fog lingering but lessened in her sapphire emblems of sight. She breathed unevenly, her fear of hurting him as obvious as the salt in seawater. She said she was sorry, and then she said it again, and Aang realized he would have to stop her. She didn't know what to do in such a situation, and Aang was discovering that he didn't either. They were both like actors on stage forced to act a scene beyond their characters' vocabularies, and they fumbled through it together. Too young, too unready to sneak off after firebending training to share lips and peruse each other's bodies with their hands. The thought was almost repulsive now, looking at Katara's fearful expression. It was all too much, too soon, too young, too unready.
The Air Nomads, explained Aang with a low voice, wouldn't touch anyone else unless there was a very good reason. The monks taught us to detach ourselves from human contact, so we did. When I kissed you on the day of the eclipse, it was because I thought I might never get another chance. Katara nodded, her eyes retreating to a corner, and Aang continued, Yes, it's true that I want us to be together, and you're right that we're not ready for it yet. But I have one question for you: is it okay for me to love you without kissing you?
Katara swallowed her breath, the wind running through her hair, the icy distance between the pair in limbo, hovering somewhere between a solid and a liquid. They stared at each other for enough time for the fog to overtake them and lull them to sleep, or so it seemed. Maybe the ice in Katara's heart had spread and her mind had frozen, wondered Aang, and maybe she couldn't even think anymore. That's when he noticed that the fog was distorting the angle of sunlight, redirecting it to a bare space on the floor between them, a new perspective on their emotional distance. It was in this light that Aang saw Katara smile weakly and say, You can do that?
The next day, the sun in the same place as the day before, Aang made his way back to the all day echo chamber and sat cross-legged in front its entrance. He waited patiently for the previous day's questions to rain down on him. He waited for nearly an hour before he realized something was wrong, even though he was sure he had made the right time. He palmed a small fireball for light and descended into the tunnel. After a few minutes alone with the sound of his footsteps and the faint heartbeat of the fire, he arrived at the cave-in, boulders crumbled all around, throwing irreparable dents in the flawlessly crafted chamber. Aang hung his head and trudged back. His failures would shadow him no matter where he went in the temple.
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Mm, no quotation marks.
"Why'd you do that, Samtana?"
"The key on my computer broke."
"Oh, I see. Hey, wait a second!"
Let me know how that worked for you.
Oh, just to make it clear, Katara was "confused" by fear of the physical part of a relationship, not the relationship part. The emotions are there, but not the physical attraction (not in this story, at least). If that didn't come through enough, let me know.
-samtana
P.S. If Katara threatened end Zuko's destiny if he threatened Aang at all, why did she let them go off to the sun temple together alone? That's been bothering me for a while. Maybe I'll do a confession about it.