The Last Airbender Book One: Unity
A/N: Hello, hello, hello! Hetalia fandom, I am PitFTW, a writer of two oneshots for this archive. I am pleased to announce my very first multi-chaptered Hetalia fanfiction!
This idea came up while watching the latest Legend of Korra episode! I hope that you enjoy my little Hetalian twist on one of my favorite TV shows. Please note that while some characters are parallels of the ones in Avatar, that does not mean that they will strictly follow the roles of the characters from Avatar. In addition, the events in this story will not strictly follow Avatar's. Avatar is a terrific show, but it is quite long. Some episodes will be combined into one chapter, while others may be cut out entirely. You'll see what I mean later on.
Summary: Long ago, the nations lived together in harmony, but everything changed when the Axis attacked. Only the Republic, master of all four elements can stop them, but when the world needed him most, he vanished. A hundred years passed and that stupid frog and I discovered a new Republic, an Airbender named Alfred. Though his strength is great, he is too bloody dense. We're all doomed.
Warnings: Avatar canon deviation, Francis, yaoi, some graphic descriptions, cursing, and a very adorable Italy.
Disclaimer: Nothing owned!
Chapter One: The Idiot in the Iceberg
Water. Earth. Fire. Air. Flying Mint Bunny used to tell me stories about the old days; a time of peace when the Republic kept balance between the European Tribes, the Asian Kingdom, the Axis Nation, and the American Nomads. But that all changed when the Axis Nation attacked. Only the Republic mastered all four elements. Only he could stop the ruthless firebenders, but when the world needed him most, he vanished. A hundred years have passed, and the Axis Nation is nearing victory in the war. Two years ago, my brothers and the men of my tribe journeyed to the Asian Kingdom to help fight against the Axis Nation, leaving me and my friend, Francis, to look after our tribe. Some people believe that the Republic was never reborn into the American Nomads and that the cycle is broken, but I haven't lost hope. I still believe that somehow, the Republic will return to save the world.
"Ohonhonhon, Angleterre!" the young man stood up, silky blonde tresses lightly soaked with exertion. Eyes the color of sapphires gleamed happily in the bright morning light. "Looky here, mon ami! I have caught a fish with my bare hands!"
His companion, a shorter ashy blonde with emerald green eyes, scowled. "I'll have you know, Francis, that that was entirely unnecessary! We have fishing equipment right here, and you could have honestly used a spear instead of wasting your time with your hands! What's more, we have plenty of food at home, so I don't understand at all what the tribe is talking about when they say that we are in such desperate need of food that we have to go to the deepest, darkest part of the wasteland and bloody fish here…"
"What is food to you is garbage to everyone else, Arthur," Francis said airily as he slowly waded over, still grasping the struggling salmon. "Big Brother worries about everyone else when they are forced to eat that slop you call cooking, after-"
Arthur waved his hand, bidding the water in the river to heed his command. Before Francis could take another step, a large wave rose up from behind him and came crushing down, soaking the Frenchman from head to toe. Caught off-guard, Francis lost his footing and fell backwards, landing butt-first into the water below.
"Crap, my fish!" he cursed, watching as the salmon quickly swam away from him. "That could have been a week's worth of non-English food!" tears swam in his eyes as he dramatically placed the back of his hand to his forehead. "Woe is me! My poor figure shall be ruined by your terrible food, Angleterre! Ruined! If I were a Bender, I would make you pay for ruining my food and hair!"
Benders were elemental manipulators, born with the ability to control one of four elements: earth, air, water, or fire. If trained properly in all sub-divisions of their bending style, Benders could be made into mighty warriors. Or, if trained in another direction, they could also become extremely helpful healers and construction workers, amongst other services. In general, Benders were well-respected amongst non-Benders, and despite the misgivings of many "Bender purists", Benders respected non-Benders as well.
Arthur was a waterbender, with the ability to call upon water and ice to heed his commands. Though he was not trained as a warrior, his fighting style was considered to be among the most fluid and graceful in the tribe. He was capable of adapting to just about any opponent and, when the time was right, using the opponent's own strength against him. Arthur fully intended to one day find a Waterbending Master to school him in the art of healing, but that day was a long ways away. He and his good-friend-sometimes-enemy, Francis, had a tribe they had to watch over.
Francis was not a Bender, but that did not make him any less of a warrior. Trained by his father in the art of both fine cooking and fine fighting, he was proficient with both the spear and sword. His favorite weapon, though, was a boomerang carved from rosewood, a gift from a travelling merchant named Jett. It was his dream to one day travel the world and impress all the women with his good looks and fighting prowess, but like Arthur's dream, that one had to wait.
At this moment, the most important thing was making sure that the West Europe Tribe stayed out of the war as much as possible.
"Stupid frog, that's what you get for insulting my cooking like that!" Arthur taunted. "My cooking is bloody brilliant and you know it!"
Francis stood up, shivering slightly from the cold. "Eating your scones is like eating rocks, mon ami. Very bad for Big Brother's teeth, Eyebrows!"
Anger rose up in the young waterbender. How dared he insult the eyebrows! Sure, they were large, fuzzy, and often described to be looking like caterpillars had decided to take up residence on his face, but they were still his eyebrows! They were a sensitive topic and that stupid frog knew it! He raised his hand, fully intending to summon an entire wave to just drown the idiot Frenchman and be done with it.
"I'LL SHOW YOU BROKEN TEETH, YOU BLOODY WANKER!"
A deep rumbling echoed all across the ice-covered plain as the earth trembled beneath his feet. Caught by surprise, Arthur lowered his arm and fell to the cold ground, all thoughts of revenge forgotten. A loud cracking sound from behind him told him that fissures were forming in the ice. Sooner or later, the ice would crack completely, and he and Francis would be stranded in freezing cold water. Knowing that he was not yet strong enough to stop the impending disaster, Arthur closed his eyes and began to pray.
Francis, meanwhile, stared at a spot in the ice formation just behind Arthur's shoulder, where large fissures were beginning to form. Normally, he would be panicking and running away, but at this moment, all he could focus on were the fissures and the intense light that radiated from each crack. It seemed to flow from each part of the ice to the next, gently illuminating it in a pure white sheen. If it weren't for the fact that both his and Arthur's lives were in danger, Francis would have commented about how beautiful the sight was.
Eventually, the rumbling ceased, and all that was left were the two young men, the many fissures in the ground, and the beautifully glowing ice formation before them. Arthur opened his eyes and stood up, turning around to gape at the sight. It took him a long while to notice that there was a strange-looking shape trapped within the ice, surrounded by a corona of the unearthly glow.
A human shape.
"There's someone trapped in there, Francis!" Arthur shouted, grabbing a fallen spear and running forward. Somewhere behind him, he heard Francis' vague shout of warning, but paid it no heed. The only thing that he cared about was getting this strange person out of the ice as soon as possible.
The spearhead slammed against the ice, chipping off tiny bits at a time. With each bit chipped off, the ice seemed to glow brighter. The spear wobbled precariously under the abuse, threatening to break at any moment. But despite this, Arthur pressed on, putting every bit of strength in his lean frame into his spear thrusts, knowing that if he did not free this person soon, they would surely die.
"Angleterre, stop!" Francis shouted, reaching out his hand to grab onto the spear. "A spear is no use, mon ami! The ice is too thick!"
"We have to help him, stupid frog!" Arthur snapped, trying to wrestle the spear away from the taller man. "We can't just let him die like this! It's bloody wrong!"
"Yes, but you must also be reasonable! We don't know how long he's been in there! For all we know, he's already de-"
BOOM!
He was on the deck of the ship when he saw it: a pillar of light, pure white and beautiful, piercing the cloudy gray skies. Many of the deckhands saw it as well and began whispering, taking of strange spirits and monsters. Most of the whisperings, the young man noticed, spoke of an omen, one that indicated that no matter how hard the blue-eyed, blonde-haired male searched, he would never find the Republic.
The firebender tore his eyes away from the sight of the pillar, glaring at the deckhands as they milled about and continued to stare at the spectacle before them. "What do you laze-abouts think you are doing? Go and do your jobs! We must make our way to that light immediately!"
"You seem to be quite excited, Ludwig-san," a voice remarked behind him. Ludwig turned around and regarded the slim, dark-haired male with dark eyes. He sat cross-legged before a low table, where a simple tea set had been laid out for him. A tiny smile lit up his pale face. "Perhaps you should consider calming down and drinking a soothing cup of tea?"
"Kiku, do you understand what this means?" Ludwig asked. His friend remained silent, choosing instead to incline his head.
"Ve~! I know!" an auburn-haired male suddenly appeared behind Ludwig, grabbing onto his arm. "It means that Ludwig's going to get me some pasta soon!"
"W-What the… Feliciano!" Ludwig sputtered, red dusting his cheeks. He began rapidly shaking his arm, trying to dislodge the cheerful Italian. "How did you get here!? I told you to stay behind with Gilbert, verdammit!"
"Ve, but Ludwig!" Feliciano whined. "You're so much more fun to hang around! Besides, Gilbert's so scary! Once, he got drunk and started playing with this cute little yellow bird thing! It was so cute, but then the bird pecked him or something so he opened his big fat mouth and ate it! Without any pasta sauce! It was so horrible and I just couldn't take it anymore and I wanted to have fun with you and Kiku, and-"
Ludwig tuned him out, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand as Feliciano continued to cry about his experiences with his older brother. He had been searching for the Republic for two years, and while Feliciano was a nice person, he was just… so… useless. Aside from his pasta skill, the only battle-worthy thing the kid was useful for was making a ridiculous amount of white surrender flags. His presence here definitely meant another mouth to feed and another useless bum to have to take care of.
Kiku walked over with a steaming cup of tea. "Here, Ludwig-san. You look like you can use it." the Japanese man smiled. "Though I do not approve of you getting your hopes too high, it is nice to see you relax. Feliciano knows how to make you do that."
Feliciano stopped mid-ramble to nod. "Ve~! That's right! I can help you relax, Ludwig! When I'm around, you forget all about finding the Republic!"
Ludwig sighed and turned his head to the pillar of light. Two years. He had been searching for two years. Surely, by now, his prayers would be answered. He longed for home, for the warm embrace of the ever-burning flames of his nation. He wanted to be able to train on the grounds again, to eat the fine wurst and pasta, and, of course, to finally hear his father's praise.
He had to find the Republic; he had to at all costs.
Arthur swept his hand over the young man's forehead, warmth rising in his cheeks as he brushed away the other's golden locks. A bit of hair stood upright, dutifully defying gravity, giving the young man a cowlick of sorts. A closer look at the finely chiseled face told the young waterbender that he had not seen sunlight in a considerable amount of time, but the light dusting of freckles across his nose and cheeks told him that he at least got a tiny helping of it while trapped in the ice.
Francis walked over to them, holding a small bowl filled with clear water. He remained silent, too stunned by the sudden appearance of the stranger to speak. He placed the bowl down near Arthur and dipped a cloth in, carefully wringing it out when it was soaked enough.
"His is still beating," Arthur said quietly as Francis placed the cloth on the stranger's forehead. The two had moved the strange boy to Arthur's lap, to elevate his head and to help with breathing. "But he is weak. He has obviously been in that ice for a long while."
Francis faced Arthur, his expression grave. "Do you have any idea of for how long he has been in there, mon ami?"
Arthur shook his head. "I have no idea. But perhaps, if he wakes up, we'll be able to ask him. But for now, do we have the resources to take him home with us?"
Before Francis could answer, the person on Arthur's lap began to stir. Both looked down immediately, watching as the boy gingerly lifted his rather large hands and began rubbing his eyes. When he was done rubbing out the sleep or whatever that was in his eyes, he lowered his hands and turned his gaze upwards, meeting the twin emeralds above him.
Arthur's breath hitched at the sight of the young man's eyes. They were the color of a cloudless sky, with an electric quality to them that sent a tingling current through Arthur's toes. Twin sparks danced in the center of each eye, giving the young man a youthful, vigorous air that many had been robbed of because of the hundred-year-long war. These eyes spoke a tale of innocence, of laughter that had never been crushed.
Never before had he seen such beautiful eyes.
"C-Can I ask ya something?" the stranger asked. His voice was high and musical, almost childish, enhanced with some kind of unidentifiable accent. Arthur dimly noted that he looked and sounded not much younger than Arthur and Francis.
"Of course," Arthur breathed, unable to stop his voice from shaking. Not far away, Francis let out a light snicker, obviously amused at the exchange. The waterbender made a mental note to hit his friend with a wave later.
"Come closer," the other requested, a coy smile playing at his features as Arthur leaned in.
"Closer," he said again.
Arthur obeyed, his heart hammering. The Brit vaguely wondered if he remembered to pick the bits of scone out of his teeth that morning. After all, it wouldn't do to look bad in front of a guest, right?"
"Closer," the stranger whispered, lowering his eyelids slightly.
Arthur gulped and leaned even closer, so close that his lips were nearly brushing the stranger's. He had never been this close to anyone before. Okay, well, there was that one girl a few years back, but he didn't feel nearly as… nervous about being so close to her as he did at this moment with this stranger. Maybe it was because the stranger was male? Or because Arthur was a bit older now? Or maybe it was the fact that the stupid frog was only a few feet away, clutching his stomach, doubled over in silent laughter?
The stranger tilted his head slightly so that his lips were positioned near Arthur's ear. The waterbender bristled nervously as he felt the young man's hot breath gently blowing across his neck. It smelled sweet, like freshly brewed tea.
"Your eyebrows are freaking huge."
… What!?
"You wanker!" Arthur shouted, wrenching himself away as Francis' laughter increased in the background. "How dare you! If it weren't for the fact that you're bloody injured, I would drown you! Do you think people like it when you bloody go around making fun of their eyebrows!? Do you!?"
Now the other was laughing as well, clutching his chest as he rolled around on the ice. His fleece-lined brown jacket, Arthur noted, was of a design that was extremely outdated. Come to think of it, the boy's entire outfit was outdated as all Hell! Just how old was this kid?
"S-Sorry!" said kid joked as he wiped a tear from his eye. With his voice a considerable amount louder now, Arthur could easily discern that the accent was definitely American. But that had to be impossible! "I couldn't help it! They're just… I mean… they're freaking… caterpillars, dude! You should totally shave them!" before Arthur could answer, the young man dug into his pocket and pulled out a pair of glasses. After placing them on and blinking a few times, he turned and grinned at Arthur. "Name's Alfred! I'm a hero, and totally at your service!"
Francis came over now, also wiping tears from his eyes. "I am most pleased to meet you, mon ami. My name is Francis. And he Arthur, mon petit copain. I hope his silly sputtering doesn't scare you away. He is quite sensitive about his eyebrows, you see."
Alfred nodded, grin widening at the Frenchman's introduction. "Cool! So, you guys got any food? I don't even remember the last time I had a decent burger…"
Arthur stepped forward, holding out one of his "famous" scones. He was especially proud of the batch he had with him; he took a big risk by baking them for only four hours, rather than eight. Now they were even more delicious than they were before, despite that frog's lies! He just hoped the rather rambunctious newcomer agreed.
The Britain's hopes were immediately dashed by a certain obnoxious frog-eater. Francis reached forward and snatched the precious pastry out of Arthur's hand before Alfred could take it, lobbing the thing towards the nearby river. Arthur watched in dismay as it sailed lower, knowing that his waterbending abilities wouldn't help the poor thing at all.
Suddenly, the light breeze that had been billowing around the group the entire time picked up. A strong gust of wind swept past the three blondes, ruffling their locks. Arthur cried out and hid behind Francis, the latter once again too stunned to really do anything other than stare. Though Arthur was used to strong breezes, this sudden gust was unlike anything he had felt before; it was both warm and cold all at once and smelled strongly of hamburgers, a delicacy served by a certain long-extinct nation that Arthur personally disliked.
He watched with widened eyes as the falling scone suddenly halted in midair, as if grabbed by an invisible hand. Then, without warning, the scone shot upwards and made its way back towards the group of three, dancing about in midair. It wasn't long before Arthur felt the slight chill of the strange wind once again and the scone was among them, floating high above their heads. Green eyes followed the food item downward all the way to its destination: Alfred's hand.
Francis and Arthur watched in stunned silence as Alfred bit into the scone. Arthur was so distracted by the spectacle he had just witnessed that he didn't notice when Alfred spat out the scone and threw it back in the river. In fact, the only thing going through the waterbender's mind at the moment was the image of the scone dancing with the strange breeze, twisting and turning in midair before landing ever so precariously in Alfred's hand.
He had a good idea of what Alfred was. But at the same time, he knew that it was impossible. They died out long ago, brutally murdered by the Axis Nation blitzkrieg. There was just no way that any of them could have possibly survived!
"Man, that sucked," Alfred grumbled, sticking out his tongue. Arthur blinked and snapped out of his trance, bristling slightly at the young man's remark. "I really hope that isn't all you guys eat. Because otherwise, I think I'd rather go back home than eat that crap again!"
Arthur opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened again. Next to him, Francis stood in closed-mouth silence. Neither of them spoke a word as they continued to stare at this strange young man, who somehow managed to make a scone defy gravity. They were both denying what they knew to be true; those people were dead, after all.
Alfred frowned in confusion. "Something wrong, dudes?"
More silence stretched between them. Alfred shifted uncontrollably, sending his bespectacled gaze down at his shoes. Francis snapped out of his trance and elbowed Arthur, gesturing for the young waterbender to start explaining everything. As much as Arthur hated to admit it, Francis was right; they couldn't just continue standing and staring like this.
He found his voice. "You're… an airbender…?"
Alfred shrugged. "Yeah, I am. What's it to ya?"
Again, Arthur and Francis stared. Airbenders had been wiped out long ago, in a mass massacre that began early in the war. The airbenders, or American Nomads, were a peaceful group of people who loved their freedom and their wide-open skies. Light on their feet and graceful in their movements, they were said to be powerful warriors, but even better dancers. The Axis Nation had fiercely hunted them down, all in the name of finding and killing the-
"The Republic!" Arthur blurted out suddenly. Where he would have normally been ashamed for such an outburst, he continued to plow on. "The last Republic was of Axis descent, which means the next one would be of American origins. Did you know the Republic?"
Alfred froze, blue eyes widening at the mention of the revered title. Arthur wasn't too surprised at his reaction, as any form of mentioning of the title Republic had been long ago dismissed as bad luck. After all, the last Republic, Romulus of the Axis Nation, had simply vanished. There could never have been a more inconvenient time for the Republic to vanish! It was said that he disappeared just before the start of the war, right when the world needed him the most!
"I-I… knew people who knew the Republic," Alfred said hesitatingly, giving the pair a weak smile. "B-But I don't know him myself. Sorry!"
Arthur sighed. "That's quite alright. But anyways, it is getting late. We ought to head home…"
Francis frowned. "I hate to burst your bubble Angleterre, but where exactly is home?" he gestured all around him. "Your little colère completely destroyed many of our landmarks. We cannot go home like this!"
"Well, excuse me, princess!" Arthur snapped. "I'm sorry that you can't keep your bloody mouth shut long enough for me to try to reign in my waterbending abilities! You know they can be quite dangerous!"
"Angleterre, it is not ma faute that you are such a terrible cook," Francis retorted. "I am sure that the American will be dead by the end of today if he tries another one of your disgusting scones!"
"Why you little twat! I ought to-"
"Say, if you guys need a ride…" Alfred said, stepping in between the two. "Mattie and I will be happy to give you one!"
The two stopped bickering long enough to send Alfred confused looks. For a few moments, the airbender returned them. Then, he snapped his fingers and threw back his head, letting out a loud and- it had to be admitted- stupidly obnoxious laugh.
"Oh man! I forgot all about introducing Mattie!" with that, the blue-eyed airbender turned to look over his shoulder. "Where are ya, bro?"
"I've been here the entire time," a quiet voice whispered from behind Arthur.
The waterbender leaped a foot in the air and whirled around, hand coming up to send a giant wave at the speaker. He found himself face to face with a pair of soft violet eyes, complemented with blonde hair with a single curl coming off of it. The young man, who bore a remarkable resemblance to Alfred, smiled nervously and clutched the stuffed bear he was holding tighter. Arthur lowered his arm as Francis' boomerang sailed over the newcomer's head, missing him completely.
"My apologies, lad," Arthur said quietly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I didn't see you when Alfred came out of the ice…" Francis' boomerang came sailing back, once again completely missing its target.
The blonde smiled and reached up, catching the boomerang and handing it back to the (once again) shocked Frenchman. "That's okay. A lot of people don't notice me. And it's always good to be on guard, eh?"
"MATTIE! DUDE!" Alfred shouted, running forward and gripping the young man in a hug. Arthur was given a rather impressive show of Alfred's strength, as the airbender managed to lift the newcomer up into the air without any problems. Something stirred in the waterbender; he wanted to be the one being lifted up like that. But he dismissed that feeling. After all, water didn't have any place in the air.
"Bros, this awesome guy is my brother, Matthew!" Alfred said cheerfully when he put the violet-eyed boy down. "He and I were seperated for a bit during our childhood, where Mattie went off with the Canadian faction to hone his powers while I stuck with the good ol' US of A tribe. We got reunited pretty recently, but I don't think that it's been that long, considering-"
"You are an airbender as well, mon ami?" Francis asked, eyes widening in surprise. "My, so many airbenders we're discovering today!"
The Canadian shook his head, a small smile forming on his features. "Oh no, I'm no airbender. That's Alfred. I'm a Shifter, actually."
That was news to Arthur. Shifters, while not nearly as commonplace as they used to be, were more common than benders. They had the ability to transform into a specific animal, whether to help them in battle or to simply help with basic work. Most of the Shifters Arthur knew were able to transform into otter penguins or tiger seals. Some of the more rambunctious could transform into polar bear dogs. Considering Matthew's heritage, there was little doubt that he was likely able to transform into a beast native to the American Nomad lands.
"Well, if you can shift into something that can get us out of here, that would be greatly appreciated," Arthur said.
Matthew smiled and looked at Alfred, who nodded. Closing his eyes, the Shifter began mumbling under his breath in a tongue that only fellow Shifters would understand. He clutched his bear even tighter and opened his eyes, the glow around him brightening into a full-on corona of light. Arthur shielded his eyes and looked away, vaguely aware of a bright flash of light. After the flash, there were a few moments of silence, followed by the heavy breathing of what sounded like a large, powerful animal. Deciding that the Canadian was likely done shifting, he un-shielded his eyes.
Before him stood a large, white animal, with six legs and a large snout. Tiny ears perked up from either side of the head, twitching as they gauged every sound that surrounded them. The small yet clear eyes remained the same violet color as Matthew's human form had been.
"Mon dieu!" Francis exclaimed excitedly as he ran forward to stare at Matthew. "A sky bear!"
Alfred laughed as he leaped up and lightly landed on Matthew's back. "Yep! Sacred to the American Tribe and all that. Mattie's awesome in this form, because no one can miss him since he's so big and sacred and all that!"
Matthew the Sky Bear made a noise that sounded a lot like a groan and rolled his great purple eyes. He made another noise that sounded like a growl, but it was a playful growl, one that was obviously meant to be a playful insult to Alfred. The airbender seemed to understand this growling and laughed again, gently patting Matthew on the back of the neck. In spite of himself, Arthur found himself enjoying the presence of the two, as years with only having Francis and a small tribe to talk to were beginning to wear down on him.
"You guys needed a ride, right?" Alfred asked after Francis and Arthur were finished staring at Matthew's immense size. "Hop on, already! Mattie's the fastest sky bear around!"
They didn't need to be told twice.
Ludwig stood at the helm of his ship, blue eyes watching as a thin trail of smoke stood out against the sky. The light pillar had faded long ago, but the ship had made enough progress so that they were close enough to see land. In the distance, he saw the pitched tents of the West Europe Tribe, plus what looked like badly made watchtowers.
It disgusted him, having to see this. The rest of the world lived in peace within grand cities, where progress and industry ruled all. What were these people doing, living like apes off the land? He had been raised in luxury and would not have traded it for the world.
"It is quite late, Ludwig-san," Kiku said, walking up to stand at the helm. "Perhaps you would like to go to sleep?"
Ludwig shook his head. "Nein. I cannot sleep as long as the Republic is so close. I can feel it, Kiku. Soon, my journey will end."
"Ve~, I don't know, Ludwig," Feliciano said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Didn't your grandpa and your great-grandpa and your great-great-grandpa and your great-great-grandpa's dog and your great-great-grandpa's cousin and that one guy that you might know but probably don't because you haven't met him yet already try and fail?"
Ludwig sighed, eyes downcast. "They… did not have their honor riding upon their capture of the Republic." he turned to face his two friends, his mouth set in a grave line. "Mine is."
Silence. Ludwig gripped the bow of his ship, not caring about the smoke trailing at the tips of his fingers. The firebender was only vaguely aware when Feliciano gently took his hand and pried each finger off one by one.
"You can't burn the ship before siesta time, Luddy," Feliciano said quietly.
Ludwig paused, then turned around to face Kiku, who wore an expression of calm. "Kiku… tomorrow, in preparation for my fight against the Republic, you are to teach me the advanced art of firebending."
Kiku frowned. "Ludwig-san, it is most unwise. You have yet to master the basics of firebending. You still fight with your muscles, but you must remember that firebending comes from the breath. The breath becomes energy in the body. The energy extends past your limbs and becomes fire. Until you master that, there is nothing I can teach you."
Ludwig bit his lip. "You don't understand, Kiku. The Republic is said to be the last airbender. He is surely over a hundred years old! That is a century, Kiku, to master the bending arts! I will need more than basic firebending to defeat him!" he looked upon his dear friend with pleading eyes. "I beg of you, Kiku, please, teach me. Teach me, if only to teach me how to live another day to fight the Republic."
Kiku closed his eyes, his face expressionless. "… Very well, Ludwig-san… but know this…" he opened his eyes, the orbs flashing dangerously. "You can very well be sent to your death. If you are about to die, regardless of the honor you will bring to yourself, you must run away and live to fight another day."
Ludwig ignored him and turned back to the prow of the ship, watching the thin trail of smoke. He became vaguely aware of Feliciano chatting aimlessly, trying to change the subject. Though it was late at night, Ludwig could not have been more awake.
Tomorrow was the day when he would return home at last.