A/N: This is an AU and darker look at growing up in Ba Sing Se during the war. Zuko and the Gaang are two years older than they are in the series. That means, by the time Sozin's comet comes around, Zuko will be 18, not 16. As such, there will be more adult themes because Zuko will be an adult. That means there will be cursing, drinking, sexual themes, and violence as he gets older. I won't go over the top but, as I said, this is meant to be a grittier take on the A:TLA universe.
Anyways, thank you for your time. I would love your feedback. Enjoy the story.
I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender
Dreaming of Dragons
When Ozai nearly threw Zuko from the palace walls, Ursa knew he would never be safe in Fire Nation.
Now, she slipped through the streets of the capital as the moon lit her way. Though time was short, caution kept her progress hesitant and slow. She had prayed for a clouded night - the less visibility the better - but it seemed the Spirits were against her. Or perhaps they simply didn't care.
The royal lady ducked down an alley as she heard the steady, tell-tale march of an approaching patrol. Sure enough, a moment later a group of seven soldiers passed by on the other side of the street. Every one of them were skilled firebenders. They carried a small blaze in their hands, spilling orange light onto the street and causing their skull-like masks to gleam. They looked like something out of the darkest corners of the Spirit World. Ursa hated those masks.
As they passed, Ursa held the basket she carried close to her chest. It was a plain, unassuming thing. Anyone who saw it had no reason for suspicion. Unless, of course, someone cared to look inside. Then, they would probably wonder why she was smuggling the grandson of Firelord Azulon through the city.
Then, they probably would probably put her to death.
Ursa prayed silently that the basket's contents wouldn't wake or cry out. She'd given him a drop of sleeping medicine earlier that evening, but she still worried. One sound and it would all be over.
In a moment, the patrol passed and she moved on.
The moon rose high in the night sky by the time Ursa left the capital proper behind. This far from the palace, she let herself relax. The most dangerous stretch of their journey was behind them.
As she approached the Western Ports, a cool fog crept in from the sea, hanging over the roads and clinging to buildings. The cool, damp air smelled of the sea, whose steady rhythm she could hear in the distance. Few people wandered the empty streets, but light and sound poured from the many taverns and inns. After a moment, she stopped before one such establishment: a small, dingy thing called the Firelord's Favor. Ursa dressed as a commoner, her clothing nice but plain. A deep hood layered her ash coated face in shadow. Still, she feared she'd be recognized.
Despite the hour, the tavern boasted a lively crowd. Travelers fresh from a long journey bargained for the price of beds. Fishermen ate their meal before the early day's work. Men who had simply lost track of time laughed over dice and drinks. The smoke of tobacco and opium cast the room in a dim haze. The air stank of sweet smoke and sour sweat. The effect was more than a little nauseating.
Ursa picked her way through the rough crowd. The room was dim but for a few torches throwing harsh shadows across the faces of its patrons. It turned the atmosphere sinister and claustrophobic. Under any other circumstance, Ursa would've felt uncomfortably out of her element. Under any other circumstance, Ursa wouldn't even get within ten miles of a place like this. Now, Ursa didn't even notice the leering looks and harsh laughter as she made her way to the pai sho table squatting in the back corner.
The table was empty, save a man in a blue and white trimmed hood. Ursa sat down across from him, carefully placing her basket on the floor at her feet. She couldn't distinguish any features beneath the hood, only a trimmed, silver beard.
"Hello, my lady," the man said with carefully practiced casualness. "I hope it was no trouble finding this place. It was getting so late I thought perhaps..."
Ursa waved away his concern. "It's the names they give these places. They all have something to do with fire or the Firelord. None of them realize, after a while, it's all just a variation of the same four or five names. It took me a while to find the right one"
A chuckle slipped out from beneath the hood. "There was no trouble on your journey, I hope. No love-struck suitors chasing after you?" Were you followed?
"No, no," Ursa laughed coyly, as though they were sharing gossip over drinks. "Nothing like that. I hardly get any attention from men."
"With a face like that? No man who saw could forget it." Were you recognized?
She shooed away the compliment, turning her head as though hiding a blush. "You flatter me, but I'm afraid I haven't had a chance to pretty myself up today. My face is hardly worth seeing right now."
A girl - Ursa guessed she was no more than fifteen or sixteen - approached their table. She wore the quaint dress of a server. The man ordered a cup of shochu and tea. After a moment, Ursa decided she could use some saké to calm her nerves.
"Lucky me," the man grinned. "To have your company all to myself tonight. Your husband doesn't mind, I hope."
"Actually, he doesn't know I'm here," she admitted. "He's a jealous man, even if I'm only meeting with an old friend."
"Of course. We wouldn't want him suspecting anything...improper."
"Of course," Ursa murmured. Something in her voice must have betrayed her anxiety.
"Peace, my lady," the man reassured. "I know of his...temper. All precautions have been taken. There is nothing to make him suspicious of any unfaithfulness."
The serving girl returned with their order. Glancing down at the empty pai sho table she said, "If you want to play a game, I can bring you some tiles. People kept taking them so we don't leave them out anymore."
"Thank you, but unfortunately, I don't have time tonight," Ursa answered. "My husband will be expecting me home soon."
"If you need anything else, just call me over." She smiled at them and left.
"We should get on with this," Ursa said in a low voice. The longer she stayed, the more she feared recognition or discovery. She took a sip to calm her nerves.
The man inhaled the scent of his own drink. "You have it then?"
She nodded, lifting the basket onto the table and sliding it to the hooded man. He opened the lid, briefly peeking inside. If he was surprised to find Prince Ozai's son, Zuko, he did not show it. He only nodded and closed it again.
"This is a dangerous thing you ask of us." His voice was soft enough that Ursa strained to hear him over the din. He was right, of course. What she was doing would get them all killed, but Ozai would kill Zuko whatever she did. This was his only chance. "And a hard thing as his mother, I am sure."
"If I had any other choice, I would have taken it." Her gaze was fierce, unwavering. The thought of him, broken at the foot of the palace walls... Whatever it took to protect her child, she would do. Even if meant giving him up.
"You will uphold your end of the bargain?"
"Of course."
The man nodded seriously. Usually, he insisted on an oath, that she swear by her ancestors or the Spirits. But he had her only child. What more could any mother give?
They had nothing more to discuss. This meeting had not been easily arranged. It followed weeks of codded letters, burned immediately after reading - weeks more of hushed conversations in taverns like this one. Unfathomable amounts of gold had been paid out in bribes. Even a few uncooperative guards or nosy servants had, unfortunately, been made to disappear. His order had set plans in motion long before Lady Ursa arrive this night. Even speaking the half of what they'd done would see them burned alive. They'd long since passed the point of no return.
"I'll give you a moment," the man said, rising from the table.
She wanted that moment, she wanted that one last chance to see her son and memorize every detail of his face. But she knew she would loose her nerve if she did. One look and she would never give him away. Then everything would be for nothing. She had to let him go, had to do it quickly, like ripping the bandage off a clotting wound.
"No," Ursa said against the ache of fear and loss. "I've already said my goodbyes and I don't know how much longer he will stay asleep. We can't afford to waste any time."
The man nodded and took the basket.
"Where will you take him?"
He was quiet for a moment. She couldn't read his expression through the shadows. "Perhaps it is safer if you do not know."
"Please," she begged. The thought of him lost somewhere in the world, away from her, hurt more than anything Ozai could ever do to her.
For a moment, she thought the man might not tell her. "Ba Sing Se," he said finally. "The city is vast as the ocean. Even if they knew he was in the city, they would never be able to find him. He will be given a new identity and entrusted to one of our Masters. He will be safe, my lady."
In the hours before morning, the White Lotus attacked the palace under the guise of Earth Kingdom assassins. No blood was spilled, and they retreated almost as soon as they came. No one knew what prompted the attack or their true goal until they checked the nursery.
In the assault, Ozai's son, it seemed, had been kidnapped.
Prince Zuko had vanished without a trace.
Twelve years later...
Monorail Corridor, Lower Ring, Ba Sing Se
Lee dreamed of dragons. They came to him in the night, when they could sneak up on him before he even realized he was asleep. Red as ember and blue as the heart of flame, so large they threatened to spill into the waking world, they would sing to him of the sun and stars and fire. Their breath warm as sunshine against his skin.
When he first began having the dreams, he would tell Fu about them.
"Nothing to worry about," he said. Always, Lee quickly assured his adoptive father that the dreams didn't scare him. He wasn't lying. They really didn't. In fact, he kind of enjoyed those dreams. But he wanted to make sure his father didn't think he was a coward.
That was years ago. Now, he was thirteen and the dragons still came to him. If anything, their visits were growing more frequent.
Rubbing the last of the sleep from his eyes, Lee rolled off his sleeping mat and stood up. Fogged with sleep, he took a moment to find his balance. A hard knot of hunger remained in his stomach from the night before. Food prices wouldn't drop until after harvest, so they were making do with what little they could afford.
Lee stretched his sleep stiff muscles and yawned before rummaging through his dresser (one of the few pieces of furniture he owned) for a shirt. The threads were getting bare and most of the color had washed out of it. He should ask for a new one on his birthday. His birthday which was...
Today!
"It's my birthday!" he realized.
Throwing open his room' screen he ran into the common room.
"It's my birthday! It's my birthday!" He ran to Fu who sat at the table enjoying a cup of tea. "Fu! It's my birthday!"
"No, no," Fu said, sipping his drink to hide his smile. "Can't be. You've already had a birthday this year."
"Yes it is! Yes it is!" Lee said, pounding his father's shoulder. "It's already been a year! You got me a present, right? Right?"
"Perhaps." Fu continued to sip his tea.
He had, of course. Later that day, when Lee's friends crammed into their small apartment to celebrate his birthday, Fu presented a pair of curved, practice dao to Lee. They were blunted, to the young boy's disappointment. They weren't real swords. But his friends still crowded around him in awe.
"Whoa!"
"Wicked!"
"Can I hold them?"
"Come on, show us some moves!"
Lee grinned at the attention. Cheng stared at the weapons enviously and tried several times to snatch the swords from Lee until Rong hit him over the head for it. At that point the two boys began wrestling each other and Fu was forced to shoo them outside as they continued to bicker. Lee followed to join them when he felt his father's hand on his shoulder and was gently guided back inside.
"Do you like your gift?" Fu asked.
"I love them!" Lee said and grinned again to prove it.
"I'm glad." Fu smiled, but he suddenly looked tired and anxious. Lee worried he'd done something wrong. "Lee, do you know what these swords are for?"
Lee'd never really thought about it before. He knew they were used to stab bad people and cut them in half, but he got the feeling that answer would disappoint Fu.
"For the War?" he asked instead.
He didn't know much about the War. He knew it was against the Fire Nation. He knew Jin's father and brother were off fighting them. He knew, one day, he would have to fight them. In school, they called the Fire Nation the Enemy. They said he should hate them. But Lee'd never met any of them before so how could he hate them? It didn't really make sense to him.
His father knelt and put a hand on his shoulder.
"I had hoped otherwise, but you will inherit this war someday, Lee. It is beyond my power to end it or to keep you safe from it. Instead, I will teach you to survive it. That is what these swords are for. That is my gift to you. Do you understand?"
Lee didn't know why Fu seemed so downhearted. Sure, he didn't want to fight. He would never say it in front of his friends, but the War scared him a little. He knew people came home broken sometimes. Sometimes, they didn't come back at all. But that's just the way it was. So he only nodded.
"Good. Every day, from now on, we will have some new lessons after school."
Lee frowned. The idea of more learning after school troubled him deeply.
"What kind of lessons?" he asked wearily.
Fu barked a genuine laugh and smiled fondly.
"Lessons I am sure you will enjoy: swordplay, martial arts, basic survival skills. That sort of thing." Lee grew more excited, his grin growing bigger, with every word.
"And bending?" he burst out.
Fu's face darkened again.
"We will see." He forced another smile. "Now, go play with your friends. I'm sure they're eager to see your new gifts."
To Lee's disappointment, their first lessons didn't even involve the dao.
"Your first task will be building up your stamina and fortifying your body," Fu told him. "A strong branch is nothing without a strong trunk or firm roots."
"I am strong!" Lee protested. "I always beat Cheng when we wrestle."
"Cheng," Fu laughed, "is a stick which might be broken by the wind. We must begin with the basics."
"I don't need the basic! I'm ready!"
Fu sighed but smiled.
"Very well, show me your strength."
He put Lee through a dao form but he had only made it a minute before his body began to sweat and shake. His wrists burned but he held onto the blades. His shoulders ached but he kept his arms up. Two minutes passed. Three. Finally, just before the fifth minute, Lee's strength gave out and the dao clattered to the floor. He felt fire in his wrists, spreading up to his shoulders and down his back. A small pool of sweat had formed on the floor.
Lee growled in frustration.
"Peace, Lee," Fu said, resting a kind hand on his son's shoulder. "Anyone else your age would not have held the blades half as long as you. Your body is weak now, but your will is strong as stone. From a strong spirit comes a strong body, if you are willing to work."
"I am!" he said earnestly.
"Are you sure? You must be strong as a badger-mole."
"I am!"
"Quick as an eel-hound!"
"I am!"
"Fierce as a dragon!"
"I am! I am! I am!"
"Then…" Fu smiled and leaned forward. "We will begin with the basics."
Lee groaned.
Jin was trying very hard to listen to the teacher and doing her best to pointedly ignore Lee.
When the wad of paper hit the back of her head, she nearly lost it.
"What?" she hissed at him. The teacher continued his lecture on the Dai Li, oblivious to any disturbances.
If her ferocity took Lee aback (or if he even noticed it), he gave no sign.
"Can I borrow some ink?"
"Why do you need more ink? You don't even take notes."
Lee's beamed at the chance to show off his work. He glanced around conspiratorially before holding up a picture of…something. To Jin it looked like a mess of stick figures. She could just make out that one was supposed to be killing the other (it had big 'X's where its eyes should've been) but the rest seemed like nonsense.
"You like it?" he asked enthusiastically.
She made a face. "What is it?"
"It's the Avatar" he said, pointing to one of the figures, "airbending the Fire Lord to death." He pointed to another which gushed a mess of inky blood. "Air's next in the cycle, right?"
Jin rolled her eyes at him.
"There is no more cycle. The Avatar's dead. He was never reborn," Jin corrected. Honestly. Everyone knew that. "Besides, it looks done to me." She heard the teacher say something about the position of cultural minister and tried to focus on the lesson again.
"It's not done," Lee whispered earnestly. "The Fire Lord got his arm cut off and I need to draw more blood." He shot a wicked grin to a mortified Jin. "Do you have any red ink?"
"Ew! No!"
That came out louder than she meant. Jin clapped her hands over her mouth. Too late.
"Problem, Ms. Jin?" the teacher asked coolly. His ruler sat menacingly on his desk.
"No sir. No problem here." She did her best to look innocent.
The teacher sniffed contemptuously, returning to his lecture.
If looks could kill, Lee would've been dead on the spot.
Lee lucked out. Jin decided to give him the cold shoulder to get back at him. Fine by him. She needed a chance to cool down. Better than getting more chewed out in front of the whole school.
After class Jin had torn into him for distracting her, for making her look bad in front of the teacher and getting into University would already be hard enough because she was a girl from the Lower Ring and didn't he even care?
Lee responded in kind. She needed to calm down and she was crazy and he didn't care because while she chased her stupid girly dreams he would be forced into the military so screw school and screw the University!
He didn't really remember much after that, but the argument ended with them storming off in opposite directions. A few classmates made jokes that they fought like an old, married couple. The rest politely (and wisely) pretended not to notice.
Cheng slid into the seat beside Lee as Guo sat directly across and began discussing the upcoming Harvest Festival. Cheng was a short, skinny kid. His unfortunately large eyes sat too far apart and gave him a permanently manic look, which he had come to embrace. His messy brown hair stuck up in tuffs. Cheng had begun oiling it up to impress the girls he had discovered, ahead of his classmates, didn't have cooties and were, in fact, rather pretty.
"We're getting a group together," Cheng said about the Festival. "We found this great spot on the roof of the cobbler's shop. We'll be able to see the whole parade! You should come. There'll be girls." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
"No thanks, pervert," Lee said, shoving Cheng off the bench.
"Visionary," Cheng corrected from the grass. "You'll get there. Give it a few years. You'll find yourself a nice girl."
"I don't have time for girls," Lee protested. "I have school and training and work at the tea shop. Then there's helping Jin with…"
"See!" Cheng exclaimed. Lee did not see. "That's exactly what I'm talking about! You got a honey like Jin right in front of you and you don't even notice."
Lee said nothing. Had he seriously just called Jin a honey?
"Or maybe you do notice." He nudged Lee.
"Lee's got a girlfriend," Guo sang as Cheng got off the ground.
"She is not my girlfriend," Lee said a little too loudly - more of a shout, really. A significant portion of the cafeteria went silent, openly eavesdropping on the conversation. He caught sight of Jin, not far off, looking at him curiously. He put his head down and buried his face in his arms. Stupid Guo and his loud mouth. Stupid Cheng and his perviness.
"You guys are joined at the hip," Guo pressed on relentlessly.
Cheng said under his breath, "They're joined at more than the hip."
Lee tackled him to the ground for the second time that afternoon and the two began frantically rolling around as Lee tried to strangle Cheng. "I meant you guys hold hands and stuff," Cheng cried, trying to escape Lee's wrath. Rong looked down at them with amusement.
Guo plucked Lee off his best friend right before he could knock Cheng's teeth out. Though he loomed over his classmates, Guo looked deceptively out of shape. But Lee knew Guo could toss him around like a kitten-squirrel if he wanted to.
"You should ask Jin to the Festival," Guo said, half teasing. Lee responded by flailing uselessly against him. Cheng stood and patted the dirt from his filthy pants without much effect.
"Actually, that's not a bad idea," Rong said in his usual, serious manner.
"Traitor! You're supposed to be on my side!"
"See," Cheng said. "Even Rong is tired of you dragging your feet."
Rong pointed a stern finger at Cheng. "Shut it." He turned to back to Lee. "Will you just hear me out?"
Lee jerked his head in a resentful nod.
"Obviously, Jin's pretty pissed at you, yeah?"
Another nod, more resigned this time.
"It's gonna take a lot to make it up to her. But she likes the Festival, yeah?"
Another nod.
"Then take her as your way of saying sorry." His tone held the barest hint of seriously, do I have to spell it out for you morons?
It was a good idea, honestly. And Lee hated fighting with Jin. They'd been friends so long he felt they should be past petty fights. Life sucked, but she didn't deserve for Lee to take it out on her.
"I would…it's just…" Rong raised his eyebrows, patiently inviting Lee to go on. "Taking someone to the Festival…you usually…it means..."
"It means you like them, yeah," Rong finished. "You do like her, don't you?" he asked bluntly.
"Spirits, Rong! No! She's just a friend. A really good friend but... What's it matter, anyways? With the War..."
"Do it, bro," Cheng said, draping an arm over Lee's shoulder. Lee stared at it loathingly. "She's totally into you."
"I don't care if she's into me," Lee tried shrugging off Cheng's arm. "In three years we'll be thrown into the War..."
"So make these three years count!"
"And if I die?"
"Ugh. You're such a...what's the word, Guo?"
"Fatalist."
"Yeah. You're such a fatalist, Lee. You aren't gonna die."
"But what if I do?"
"Fine," Cheng sighed. "Do it for me then." His voice took on a melodramatic dreamy quality as he said, "Already, I miss Jin's feminine charms. My heart aches in her absence, Lee. I can't sit around while you two try to work it out on your own. That always takes weeks."
Lee couldn't decide what Cheng meant by "feminine charms." Even if Jin cared about that stuff, she was Lower Ring. Her family didn't have money for makeup or silk dresses. In the Lower Ring, only panders could afford such luxuries, for their hookers who lined the streets at night. Jin was definitely not one of those.
"Besides, if you don't make your move soon I might just ask her to the Festival myself."
Lee grabbed a piece of bread, ready to throw it at Cheng when someone behind him said: "What about a festival?"
Lee's heart stopped. Not even his luck could be this bad. Could it?
He turned around.
Of course it could.
Jin had appeared out of nowhere. A small smile played across her lips. He begged silently that she hadn't heard too much of the conversation, but then he glanced over at Cheng who grinned maliciously. He realized what Cheng intended a second before it happened.
"Lee was gonna ask if you wanted to go with him to the Harvest Festival," Cheng said cheerfully. Jin looked shocked for a moment. Lee cringed and felt smug satisfaction practically radiating from Cheng.
Lee felt panicked. He imagined Jin's shock twisting into disgust, imagined her laughing in his face. Her, go out with him? Why on earth would she do that?
His hands tightened into fists around the bread in his hand.
In a moment, his panic turned to anger. He felt like someone had set his lungs on fire.
"Sure," Jin said brightly. Her face had a slight flush.
And the fire faded.
"Really?"
"Of course," she said. Her face turned sad but Lee found it was really nice to look at. "My brother used to take me. He would put me on his shoulders so I could see the parade. That was before..."
Before the War took him away.
Lee didn't know how to answer that.
"Great!" Cheng said. "Not about your brother, about the Festival. He'll pick you up after dark."
A gong sounded and kids began milling back to their classrooms. Jin smiled at Lee, who couldn't seem to form words, and disappeared into the crowd.
"What just happened?" Lee asked. Behind him Guo grinned. Rong just winked at him before joining the herd of kids.
"You got a date," he said patting Lee on the back as he passed.
"You can thank me later," Cheng said.
Alone, Lee realized he still held the loaf of bread in his hand. He almost ate it when he noticed it was burnt - not just a little dark, but blacked all around the edges. Weird. He could've sworn it hadn't been a moment ago.
Lee shrugged it off as he tossed the loaf away and followed his friends to class.
The Harvest Festival was an enormous and highly anticipated in Ba Sing Se, but especially in the Lower Ring. The other rings just didn't have the knack for revelry that the Lower Ring did. Perhaps because the Festival allowed them to escape the anxieties of everyday life, perhaps because it was simply fun – whatever the reason, the whole Lower Ring was mad with a restless, festive fever. It was in the children crafting their paper lanterns, in the mothers baking mooncakes, in the men who spent the three days away from work and crowding pubs and taverns throughout the Ring; it was in the paper lanterns casting the city in a dreamlike glow, in the festive cheer, and telling of old stories. For three days, the smell of spices and prayer incense broke through the usual rank of tar and sweat that hung about their city.
The festivals began at noon on the first day of Shōuchéng, when the first fruits were gathered at the gates of the Outer Wall and loaded into decorated pageant wagons. The tradition dated back Lee didn't know how long – though Jin probably did. He didn't need the history to have fun. It was the rare event that brought the whole city together, some unspoken agreement that, as the harvest passed through the streets, the physical and social walls which divided them were made low. This was due in no small part to the intoxicating atmosphere of the lower rings. The Middle and Upper Ring only celebrated the Festival while the parade passed through their own districts.
But that was, in Lee's opinion, because they were lame. The Lower Ring went hard: three days of constant festivities, fireworks, and (mostly important) as many mooncakes as he could eat! This drew many who would never even think of setting foot in the Lower Ring otherwise. It became almost a tradition, a game of sorts, for the upper-class citizens to slum those three days with the lowlife. For those three, glorious days, nobles and peasants alike shared table, drink, and laughter.
This year, for the first time, Fu allowed Lee to roam the streets of his district with reckless abandon. Evening of the second day descended upon the city but the thousands of paper lanterns strung between rooftops gilded the streets in a golden light. Sky lanterns filled the horizon along the Outer Wall to signal the parade's approach. The people inscribed prayers on each lantern. When lit and released, it would fly up, past the clouds, and into the Spirit World. At least, that's what some people believed. Lee couldn't decide if he believed in the Spirits. But sending a prayer up never hurt.
The city is dark now and Lee yells goodbye to Fu as he leaves. He told Jin he would meet her at the cobbler's roof. As much as he wants to walk her, the thought is too terrifying. The streets are muddy like they always are, but his high-soled sandals keep the worst of the muck off his feet. The air smells like spices and candied nuts and pastries fresh from the oven. Sky lanterns gleam in the night – little constellations filling the streets and skies. Everyone around him is buzzing with laughter and intoxication. The city and its people are bright.
If he looked hard enough down the dark allies, he could still see the homeless and beggars, but tonight he chooses not to look. He keeps his eyes fixed firmly on the sky.
When he scrambles up the cobbler's roof, everyone is already there. The girls Cheng has brought along are clearly middle ring girls, but Lee doesn't have eyes for them. Jin sees him and hugs him. He feels as light and aflame as the lanterns.
They eat mooncakes, filled with poppy and red-bean paste, and drink tea as the noise grows to a crescendo and the parade comes closer. Cheng produces a bottle of strong beer and after a few mouthfuls the world becomes warm and fuzzy around the edges. Even Rong takes a long drink, choking and spitting at its bitter taste. Lee sits close to Jin, their arms touching.
Cheng sees and grins stupidly, sure that his prodding is the reason for his friends' new happiness.
The parade comes like a dream: acrobats and musicians accompany the brightly painted wagons while performers costumed as bagger-moles – who first tilled the hard earth into fertile soil – stomp around and scare the little kids in the audience as Lee's laughter mingles with the crowd's; then comes the great, white lantern as big as his whole apartment – the moon with whom the ocean fell in love, creating the first clouds and bringing the first rain. As it passes, Lee and his friends pull out their own sky lanterns, each covered with their own prayers and wishes.
"What are you praying for," Jin asks, stealing a look.
Lee pulls it out of her sight. "I can't tell you. If I do, they won't come true."
"You're not superstitious," Jin pointed out.
"No," he agreed. "But...just in case."
Cheng passed around a box of matches. One by one, the lanterns are lit. It grows warm in Lee's hard, trying to escape. As the moon lantern passes, they release their own. Their prayers join with the thousands already sailing in the sky, floating as smoothly as a ship on clear sea.
Please, Lee prays, let the War end soon.
The paraders throw beads into the crowd. Lee catches one and puts it around Jin's neck. She rests her head on his shoulder and, without really thinking about it, he holds her hand. For a moment, he lets himself forget about the War. He allows himself a moment of happiness.
And for a moment. The world is perfect.
And then the moment ends.
A/N: Thanks for your time! I would love feedback on my work so please leave a comment.
I was in a rush when I first wrote this chapter, so I went back and made a few edits, especially to the first half.
