The last place Tahno wanted to go was home. No, he couldn't let his family, friends, and admirers see him this way. He wanted to go to some bar, preferably one with cheap alcohol; he didn't want to have to spend a fortune on getting completely hammered when he felt this depressed.
The place he stopped out was downtown, where the shops were mostly run down, even a bit shady. As he walked in, he was sure someone would recognize him. He had not bothered to take off his pro-bending uniform, even though the wet, cold fabric chilled him to the bone. No one so much as blinked at him. It was as if his fame had been stripped away along with his bending, even though the reality was that everyone at the bar either did not care, was too drunk, or too poor to even attend a pro-bending match, let alone listen to one on a radio.
Tahno was looking down on them, the street rats, the poor, the…non-benders, though his condescending gaze had lost its glamour. You're just a hypocrite, Tahno. You don't even deserve to be in this place. The thoughts were hard to push away, but he managed as he found his way to a seat at the corner of the bar, the barstool creaking as he sat down.
The bartender plopped a drink down in front of him. "Strongest thing we got right now. You look like you could use it," He walked off to serve someone else, leaving Tahno to contemplate why he would serve him at random.
Did he seem depressed? Did he look depressed? Was there an air of discomfort radiating off him? Tahno hadn't looked at himself in the mirror since it happened. He couldn't look at himself, his shameful self. He was too afraid of looking at the reflection that held a different person than he remembered.
He rubbed his fingers around his closed eyes, trying desperately to clear his thoughts. A yawn fought its way to his lips but he forced it back down. He hadn't gotten any sleep. The first time he tried to rest his weary eyes, he had dreamt of Amon, towering over him. No matter how many times he begged, pleaded, humiliated himself in front of his teammates and the Fire Ferrets, Amon ripped away his water bending, staring with a steely gaze.
With a noise that could only be likened to a growl, Tahno picked up the glass and took a gulp of whatever clear liquid was inside, the contents burning down his throat. It was a good burn, though, one that reminded him he was still there, that he was still Tahno. However, he was no longer the captain of the White Falls Wolf-Bats or a bender of the element he had grown fond of and adored almost as much as his fame. He was no one.
He stared at the condensation dripping down the side of the glass. He set it down, water sticking to his hand. Any normal day and he would be able to bend that water. He could turn it into steam or ice, or collect it into a ball and shoot it at an unsuspecting customer for a good laugh.
The impact of the thought of not being able to bend anymore hit him again like a train at full speed. His stomach clenched and he could have sworn he would be sick, but two people burst through the doors and snapped him from his thoughts. Two men had burst through, laughing widely as they found their way to a pair of seats close to Tahno. They had obviously been drinking before they came and he wondered if they even remembered their actions and were just hitting bar after bar until they passed out. Maybe he should do that, just to get rid of the pain for one night.
Unless he wanted to get rid of his suffering for good, which was starting to sound more and more like a good idea. Perhaps it was just that his thoughts were becoming muddled over the one glass of alcohol he had consumed; he never could quite hold is liquor as well as the next guy. However, as soon as the drunken men sitting close by yelled something about Amon, Tahno made up his mind.
He stood abruptly, heart leaping in his chest. He tried to swallow past the lump in his throat as he pressed a few Yuon's to the bar with clammy hands. It was uncanny how just one name of a man could bring Tahno to quake with fear.
The Pro-Bending arena stood gloriously behind him, still beautiful despite the damage it had taken a few nights before. He deemed this area to be a perfect place to discontinue his life. The point where he was standing seemed to be the highest point he could find, where the impact of slamming into the water, dropping through the air like lead after jumping over the railing, would kill him instantly.
Standing staring down at the water made Tahno wish that he had finished his drink or had drank more than he could handle. It was nerve wracking; standing at the edge, wanting to jump. He was almost as frightened as he was when Amon tore his bending from him. The thought made him shudder and he inched further, toes hanging off the ledge between the rail posts, fear grabbing at him from behind, telling him to stop. His shame screamed at him to get on with it, to put an end to it once and for all.
He climbed up onto the railing, trying to balance. The wind whipped through his hair and clothes and he was certain that it could blow him over the edge without a second thought. He clenched his fists as he stared at the sky, wobbling slightly. He opened his mouth to say something, but that is when his foot slips.
A tremor of surprise and terror flashed through him and he desperately felt like screaming in those split seconds, but all that came out was a gasp. His hands scrambled for something frantically, and when they touched the metal of the railing, he grabbed on, mouth open in distress.
He dangled over the edge for what seemed like an eternity, trying to figure out what exactly was going on. He went there to kill himself, but faced with the actuality of it, he was resenting his choice. His thoughts were jumbled and scattered, but he managed to grab onto one of them, latching onto it with his mind and not letting it go. Do not die. I need this life. Do not die. Do not die.
With a grunt, he started to pull himself back over the ledge. He silently thanked all of his training, as it had left him with enough upper body strength to complete the task. Tahno flung himself back over the edge, landing on the ground sideways, wincing. He did not notice the pain, though; he could only notice that he was still alive.
Tremors wracked through him and he curled up on the cold ground. Sobs tore their way through his chest and he had no choice but to let them out, hot tears streaming down his cheeks. At that moment, he did not care if anyone saw him like that. There was only one thing he was still thinking, that one thought that he could hear even past the erratic pounding of his own heart.
I need this life.