la caduta
. helium lost .

Author's Notes: Title means "the fall" in Italian. Written for the latest theavatar100 challenge, which is "la caduta"—shocking, isn't it? ;) Anyway, I know that I could have cut the drabble short (and fit it under a hundred words) after a particular sentence, but I really wanted to add in the idea that I had… so I sacrificed wordcount for the sake of concept. Sigh.

ETA: This drabble won the challenge! Thanks again to Sangi for picking it:)

Warning: Character suffering, and Zutara (but only if you squint).

Disclaimer: Lyrics excerpt is from "dew", arranged by Yoko Kanno and sung by Ilaria Graziano for the Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex 3 OST. Translation graciously provided by Livejournal's fpb, in the linguaphiles community. Thanks!

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fragile mi sento fragile,
e vorrei capire un pó di piú…
se é proprio vero
che sul mio viso, lentamente,
scivola
una goccia di rugiada dal sapore cosi amaro.

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She watches but doesn't see the horrors that are unfolding before her: Aang falling to his knees, struggling to get back up as the Fire Lord keeps him down, launching ball after ball of flame at him, burning his face and making his tears sizzle and spit the instant they leave his eyes.

And, as the wet and bitter tears drip down her own face, mirroring his pain, pouring out hers, she knows that she's unable to stop it, to do a thing… but a sudden drop in the crowd's screams and cheers makes her head turn with all the others to gaze at the open door. A figure stands there, head held high—but the fear nonetheless still evident on his face. He strides up to the stage and steps between the Fire Lord and the Avatar; the Avatar falls unconscious before he can see his savior, who readies his stance and glares into those golden eyes that are identical to his.

"The Avatar is mine," he murmurs softly, but the crowd is so quiet that everyone hears it.

"You never learn," hisses the Fire Lord, who mirrors his stance.

Then, as she watches, the stage explodes into a brilliant supernova of flames, the two figures barely visible through all the light as they pit themselves against each other. She shuts her eyes against the intensity of the battle, turning her face away as she clutches her brother's hand in hers, unable to let go.

And when she opens her eyes again, she can't help but think that, despite all his efforts to capture Aang, despite all the hell they've been through because of him…

She's never been happier to see him…

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fragile, I feel fragile,
and I wish I understood a bit more…
whether it is really true
that, on my face, slowly,
slides
a dewdrop with such a bitter flavor…

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Author's Notes: I had some difficulty with the style here; in fact, I've been having something of a block for the past few days (which is hard for me to accept, because I believe that they don't exist...), so it was a bit hard to express everything coherently and eloquently. --; Naturally, I'll be editing and possibly doing a rewrite of this sometime soon, when I'm back to my usual. But that doesn't mean that you shouldn't not leave constructive criticism and feedback, get what I mean? ;)