A/N Guess who's back~


"Howlllllll!"

The flapping of his crumpled up papers in the late summer breeze broke his concentration, bringing him back to the present. Heart and head throbbing, he opened golden eyes and glanced around. No Avatar. No Korra. As usual. With a sigh, he shook his head, blinking furiously to wash away the bathing sunlight as it tickled his skin. His papers were scattered throughout the dark blades, crumpled up in his frustration.

Three years and he could still hear her voice, as clear as day. He could still feel her caressing touch without even trying to remember, could still listen to her seductive whispers as he fell asleep. He could still see their one and only fight as he stormed away, having learned her true feelings for him and for the other man that she…no. He couldn't think about her anymore. She may have been deep under his skin, but he was not one to let her get to him that easily. Instead, he decided that he'd done enough writing for the day and packed up the remaining paper with another sigh. His muscles hurt, his mind sore. He shouldn't have fallen asleep on the couch again, but sleeping in the bed was difficult—he was always riddled with nightmares.

"Good morning Howl!" Voices, again. This time from a broad faced girl with a much too large nose and a thin smile. She may be pretty to other men, he noticed as she walked past him with the same smile she used every day, but to him, she was nothing. Nothing compared to her. His palm burned and he winced. Dammit, not again. "How was your writing session?" Always the same pestering questions. She was so predictable. Why did she even bother? He was a cold-hearted, broken spirited man who couldn't understand the way the world revolved. Ever since that agonizing day….

He was thinking about her again. Without answering, he continued onwards, rubbing his temple in frustration. This was so…stupid. So stupid. He had had three years to try and move on, three years to grow as a person and travel the world as he had always wanted to. Yet, Howl couldn't. He wasn't as forgetting as she was, apparently; mastering the four elements at so young of age was a feat in itself (twenty had been a good year for her, he'd read in the Ba Sing Se times). She got to do the things that they were going to do. She got to travel and live and thrive and be happy. And yet, he had stayed in the same place since he had left her side, degraded and beaten down. His writings were all he had left—such a keen student on literature at such a young age had helped him continue living these past few years.

Howl let his eyes slowly glance around the marketplace as he walked through, noticing all of the different people. A woman buying a fish, her hair loosely flowing down her back. A man, tall, with dark clothes and a grim smile as he held a book in his hands. Chubby children running down the street, keeping pace with him and laughing when they realized they were faster. He blinked, growing reclusive. All of the people gathered here made him weary. He had grown to be such an introvert in the short time he'd been in Ba Sing Se. There were only a few people he knew well enough to talk to, but they weren't enough to be considered friends. He only had had two close friends in his life; he'd given his life to one and the other…he hadn't spoken to him in months. A secret assignment or something, protecting her. Sitch was the only person in the world other than those around him that knew where he was, and he'd made the man promise not to tell a single soul.

Most of the marketplace was relatively empty, though. That was unusual, considering it was a weekday, a prime shopping day for most of the women in the city. He noticed whispers lingering in the air but found himself ignoring it. He didn't care what was going on, to be frank. He just wanted to get home and rest again. He needed it after a night full of horrible dreams following him no matter where he went to escape them. It was there problem.

His home finally appeared, after making his way through the painful marketplace. It was small, as needed for only himself and his books, but it was nice enough for him to enjoy. He unlocked the door and dropped his bag on the inside, yawning. A nap wouldn't be too bad, especially since he didn't have to meet his…

There was an awkward presence in the home—he immediately noticed it. It was as if the air was thick, dark, mysterious. After years of studying and training to be successful as a White Lotus guard, he knew when things weren't right. Something was wrong. The fact that the entirety of the house was dark, and he always left at least one or two lights on. His heart pounded uncontrollably as he moved to shut the door, letting out a loud creak as he did. There went his stealth, along with his sanity. "Anyone there?" He called out, frowning. Shadows were moving when there was nothing to move them. The walls seemed alive with hidden creatures, darkness lingering in the air. His head was spinning at the thought of someone breaking into his home. Would they steal his new typewriter? He would kill them if he had to, that was brand new, and expensive!

He found the switch on the wall with his long fingers and flipped it on, his frown growing. When the electricity sputtered to life, the shadows stopped moving. The living room seemed empty, until his gaze found a single helmet on the lumpy, old couch. Dark blue and white, a lotus pattern covering the front. His mind went blank at the sight of it, before footsteps echoed from the kitchen. His gaze hardly reacted to the sight of his oldest friend's face, helmetless and looking tired as ever. "Howl,"

Immediately, Howl grew defensive. "I'm not going back." He said, shaking his head. No matter how good it was to see Sitch, he hated what his friend wore. That same damn uniform he had had to wear; the helmet she had loved to push off so that she could entangle her fingers into his black curls, the cloak they had used as a blanket to keep themselves warm in the coldest of winter nights, the breastplate that would fall to the floor with a clank every time she peeled it off his chest…his head was spinning again. He felt himself lean against the doorway, too tired and weak from the painful memories to stand.

Sitch ran a hand through his hair. It was getting shaggy, Howl noticed, and he knew his friend would have to cut it sooner or later. White Lotus guards weren't supposed to let their hair grow out in the summer months in hotter regions. "It's been three years, Howl."

"I'm not going back."

"Can't you just get over her?"

Howl flinched so hard that he hit his head against the wall. His jaw fell at the sound of his friend's suggestion. Like he hadn't tried! There wasn't anything he wanted more than to get her out of his head but he…it was impossible. He should never have been so stupid, and hearing his only friend pester him was tiring. "Get out," He said under his breath, letting his head fall. There was no point anymore. He was too tired to think. When Sitch hardly moved, Howl huffed and let himself slide down the wall, falling to the floor slowly. "I don't want you here. I don't want anyone here. I just want to be left alone."

There was a long, agonizing moment of silence. Howl knew his friend's black eyes were boring into his head, but he wouldn't win. Sitch had and would always be impatient, no matter how old he grew. Finally, after a while of sitting and waiting for his friend to snap, Sitch sighed. "...I'm sorry," He said. His boots clanked across the wooden floor as he moved to the front door. Howl didn't look up—he had buried himself in his knees, his sanctuary and planned to stay that way until the other man left. As the door creaked open, he heard the older man sigh. "…She's in the city, if you want to make things up with her…."

There wasn't anything he wanted more in the world. But he knew that she would have the other boy who'd stolen her heart better than he had on her arm at all times. He knew that they were the hit item in the tabloids and magazines. He knew that they had saved Republic City and the world multiple times. He knew that the boy was better than he was.

He knew that he could never win her back.