"Republic City is a city of dreamers, of people moving to accomplish many things. A city of spirits and technology, and the hub of the imagination for a generation. But none of this would be possible without the Avatars past – first, the great Avatar Aang, who returned to conclude the Hundred Year War. And next, the departed Avatar Korra, a woman who fought to reform the connection between people and spirits."
The newscaster's eyes didn't betray her true opinion on the matter, glassy and polished like a good reporter. In both life and death, Avatar Korra had been a controversial figure. As technology advanced and democracy soared, the inherent nature of the Avatar had been something to question. Why was it her duty to be the determinant force behind so many critical decisions? Many of these extended past the negotiations between people and spirits. Further – Korra's personal life had often been the topic of heated debate and criticism. It had been rumored after a shocking public kiss that Korra's publicist had prevented her from any signs of affection besides holding hands.
With this in mind, at every public appearance Korra she held the famed CEO Asami Sato's hand whenever physically possible, often with a rebellious smile flashed towards the cameras.
Despite these critiques, Avatar Korra bore many accomplishments under her name. She brought spirits back to the world. She reinvigorated the unity between technology and the inherent magic of the world. She brought back Airbenders and their culture, and above all else, and proved that love and acceptance were the keys to uniting nations. Her loss was something the world had never expected – the avatar had become a polarizing character whose absence left a hole in public spirit.
The newscaster looked back up from her papers, lipstick and cobalt eyeshadow lacquered on with a glossy sheen. Since the advent of color a couple decades earlier, everything on the televiewer had grown increasing vibrant – even cartoonish. Movers and televiewers had only grown more radical, to borrow a common phrase.
Her voice continued with the steady, enunciated drone of the news. "Today, we commemorate the fifth anniversary of the death of Avatar Korra, and honor her service to Republic City and the world at large. Her closest friend, retired president of Future Industries Asami Sato, is scheduled to speak at Aang Memorial Island today at 5:00 P.M.-" The anchorwoman continued, oblivious to the fact that no one in this particular Republic City apartment was listening to her broadcast.
Beyond the screen, Jiro watched his family with a bent smile from behind the lens of a state-of-the-art camcorder – a new Future Industries creation. It was the size of a cinderblock and purchased precariously on his shoulder, but Jiro didn't seem to mind. Not as long as he had his wife and daughter frozen forever on long strands of recorded tape. He was short for a man, with a boyish face behind a coarse black beard. Behind wire-framed glasses, his eyes perpetually crinkled in laughter. Jiro spoke with the playfulness of a young father, living the Republic City Dream.
"Pull Ari closer, I can barely see her!"
"Come on Ari, say hi to Daddy!" Hana coaxed, smiling both at her daughter and at the man behind the lens. Her hair was chocolate brown and wavy, split right down the middle. From behind dark, heavy bangs, the rest of her face peeked out – vibrant green eyes hidden in a patch of freckles. Her small but wiry limbs were hidden behind a billowy seafoam blouse, tucked inside oat-colored overalls. And in front of her was the girl – Ariko – who was unquestionably her mother in miniature, but with the stockiness of her father and an uncontrollable halo of black, wiry curls. Her gap-toothed grin, green eyes and freckles sat in a round face. She waved her hand rapidly, twirling the skirt of her flowy sundress with embroidered leaves at the hem.
"Hi Daddy!" She squealed, scrambling to hug at his leg before standing on her tip-toes to examine the camera more closely. Jiro stepped backwards and laughed, shaking his head.
"Not so close, Ari – Hana, can you keep her back a little bit? I want to send this to your mom, she's been dying to hear from us-"
"-I know, she's been wanting us to actually make a trip out to Ba Sing Se, but I keep telling her about how busy work's been keeping you… Do we have to have this on film? Can you edit this out?"
"I think we can, but I want to just try a couple more things-"
"-You just want to play with your new toy, Jiro-"
"Yes. Yes I do want to play with my new toy." He chuckled. "But we also want to make some memories with the birthday girl!" His voiced levelled off in a playful growl, to Ariko's screeches of amusement. "Show mommy what you can do, Ariko."
Ari tilted her head – the disastrously fluffy black mess of hair plopping over her shoulder. "Do what, Daddy?"
"Show her your Earthbending! Like Mommy and Daddy can do."
Hana bent down closer to her daughter, with a shy smile, as she flicked her hand and the piece of sandstone resting on the apartment's bookshelf fluttered downwards. She balled her hand into a fist, and the face of the rock crumpled into itself, an indentation of a smile pressing into its side. Ariko clapped her hands giddily, snatching the rock from the air.
"Can you show Mommy your bending?" Hana coaxed, kissing Ari on the cheek. "Like this-" She took hold of Ariko's hand, taking the sandstone piece gently in her own palm. Ari gently made a few clumsy hand movements, and the rock lobbed itself out of Hana's hand, to the enthusiastic cheers of both parents. "Good job!"
"She's a natural-" Hana marveled.
"Unlike her father." Jiro snarked from behind the camera, prompting an eye roll from his wife.
Ariko flicked her wrist, concentrating on a few of the motions her mom had been carefully practicing with her for a while. Teach them early, Hana had recalled reading in one of her parenting magazines, children with early introduction to bending can quickly develop accelerated skills, leading to the development of higher-tier bending arts like metalbending. Jiro was right, he was a poor excuse for a bender, only capable of really moving some of their household items, but Hana had always believed that had she started at a younger age she could have been a marvelous metalbender…
Ari practiced a little bit longer, growing greedy for more of her parent's applause. Jiro couldn't help but find the whole situation endearing. "Look at that Hana – she's just showing off now."
And Ariko certainly was. She squirmed away from Hana, rolling the hovering rock in front of her, and quickly posing before the camera, trying to draw the attention of home-movie audiences to come.
"Yay Ari! Can you change the rock, like Mommy showed you?" Hana said, motioning with her fists to demonstrate. Ariko looked over the rock, and tried to imitate the motion, but the rock only vibrated slightly mid-air before tumbling, crunching into three uneven pieces.
"I broke it." She pouted, sitting down.
"You didn't break it, honey." Jiro consoled her, putting down the bulky camera on the coffee table, and scooping Ari up in his arms. Hana bent the rock back into its normal shape and place on the shelf. "Bending takes practice!"
"You did good, my big, birthday girl." Hana agreed, brushing stray fluffs of hair from Ari's face. She had already begun to try and wriggle out of her father's arms. It was only a matter of seconds before she was on the ground, leaving Hana and Jiro to just laugh with each other.
"You already got everything set for the party tonight?" Jiro said, bending down to fiddle with the camera, which was still recording and blinking its indicative red light.
"Yeah, I just need to call your brother and see if he was going to let us borrow the extra table- Oh, would you be alright with picking up the cake in a little bit? I was going to try and get some laundry going-"
"Sure. No problem. I can get to that now. Did you hear back from-" Jiro's voice cut off as he turned to look down at Ari, whose hands were quickly at work again in the peculiar movements of attempted bending. The room went silent, save for a fast food commercial on the TV behind them. Ari flicked her palms, and Jiro raised a curious eyebrow. "What're you doing, Ari?"
"Practicing." She replied curtly, flicking her wrist a few times. After four more attempts, a tiny flame sputtered to life in her palm, and she turned to Jiro and Hana, expecting the same kind of tireless praise as had been the norm for her previous forays into the world of bending. Instead, there was only silence. Hana's skin went white, in stark contrast to the darkness of her freckles, and Jiro quickly fumbled with the camera, stopping its recording and rapidly flicking his gaze between the virtual fire on its miniature screen, and the very real one that had crackled to life in his daughter's hands. Ariko's face fell, the flame retreating into smoke as she realized that fire wasn't perhaps what her parents were expecting. Tears immediately began to form in her eyes.
"Shh, shh, it's okay Sweetie." Hana apologized, rushing to her daughter's side to give her a hug, while exchanging wordless panicked glances with her husband. Jiro only continued to rewind the video in his hand, eyes widening further every time.
"It's not possible, I mean… This could have been anyone, there are hundreds – no, thousands! - of other – How-" He mumbled, the tiny fire on the camcorder disappearing and then reappearing every few seconds as he repeatedly rewound the film. With increasing panic, he looked to Hana for some kind of answer. His voice seemed to reach a new octave with each fragment of speech. "She's… Our daughter is… What do we do about this?"
Hana swallowed, looking back at the TV where the pristine anchor repeated her segment on the fifth anniversary of Korra's death. "There has been no indication as to whether or not the identity of the next Avatar, who is anticipated to be of Earth Kingdom heritage, has been identified. The White Lotus organization and Asami Sato both decline comment, indicating that the Avatar is not traditionally introduced to society until the age of sixteen, with both Avatars Aang and Korra marked as exceptions."
Hana sighed, hugging Ari tightly, feeling the heaviness in her chest grow more and more by the second. "Call your brother; tell him that we have to reschedule the party."
"Reschedule?" Jiro echoed.
"We need to meet with Asami Sato. As soon as possible."
None of this talk made much sense to Ariko, who was trying her hardest to follow, and figure out why she had upset them so bad. Above all else, she prayed to the powers that be that at the end of the day, she'd still have cake. It was her birthday, and amidst change and turmoil, there should be at least one small constant.
