The Fire Nation would always be hot; even at night, when the breezes were out, the wind was thick and sluggish, almost squishy to the touch. I wanted the crisp cold of the South Pole back; anything to get out of the heat.

I lay on my side in the grass of a cliff to the left of the house. I watched as the light in Zuko's room finally went out. I looked down at the dark rooms for a few more moments thinking about how he was always the last one to go to sleep and then turned so I lay on my back to count the stars. It was an old habit and I should have grown out of it by now, but ever since mom….

A tear ran down my right temple and I bent it away so I could study it. I held my hand out to the side so the tear was against the stars. It was tiny, the most miniscule drop of water I'd ever bent. I loved it. It was gorgeous against the night sky, transparent and crystalline. But it also represented despair; I didn't think I wanted to keep it.

"What's that?"

I nearly flung the tear away I was so startled; I hadn't realized how close it had been to my face. Sitting up, I drew my legs in so they crisscrossed and saw Aang standing on the slope to my right. He didn't look tired at all, just curious and soft in the moonlight. He'd left his shirt off because of the heat (oh, spirits) and was just in the pair of newly sewn trousers I'd made for him the week before.

"Um, just a drop of water." I didn't want him to know I'd been crying. I was supposed to be his pillar, his support. I needed to be strong for him until this war was over.

Aang closed the small gap between us, sitting across from me in the way that he meditates. I loved when he did that. He seemed so peaceful then, like nothing in the world could ever bother him again. That's all I wanted for him.

"Katara." Aang said my name simply, watching me with those knowing gray eyes. I'd been caught. Hanging my head I let him take the tear from me and tried to keep more from coming as he began to bend the tiny drop of water. It was wonderful to watch, even if the droplet was no bigger than the head of a pin.

Despite my attempts at keeping my cheeks dry another tear slipped out and Aang looked up to see it slide down my cheekbone. He held my first in one hand, reaching to wipe the other away with his thumb. He did so, gently and lovingly, as if he didn't want to hurt me anymore than I already was.

I shivered at his touch. This boy had grown up since the day Sokka and I had found him in the iceberg. He was wise, powerful, talented; he'd become a man right before my eyes. Yes, he was only twelve years old psychologically, but underneath his childlike needs was a smart, sophisticated man. Spirits, he drove me insane with that part of him.

"Guru Patik told me that when you lose love, it is reborn into this world in another form…another body…another heart…" Aang's voice was husky, low, like it always was when he was troubled or sad. I knew that this wasn't either of those feelings, though.

I locked eyes with him as his fingers caught my chin. Our noses were an inch apart, our breath mingling in the space between us that I so badly wanted to close. He leaned forward a bit more.

I broke eye contact, his fingers delicately slipping from my chin. I stood and rubbed the back of my neck, the moisture of my sweat invading the skin of my hand. I didn't think I was sweating because of the natural heat, though…

"Um, I should get to bed…" I bid Aang goodnight, leaving him sitting in his meditation position. I could feel his eyes on my back, following me down the slope and all the way to the back door of the beach house. I slipped inside and caught my shaking breath.

She'd just left…so quickly…was it something I did? I had only meant to comfort her, not scare her out of her wits.

I smacked my head with the hand that didn't hold her tear; this wasn't what she wanted right now. She'd just gone and hunted down the man who murdered her mother. Katara did not need to be bothered with silly things like romance.

I stared at the tear slowly going in circles over the palm of my hand. I wondered if she wanted it back…

No. It was a tear that represented many more to come, many that had already past. Katara would not want to be reminded of that. I let the tear slowly slide into the grass where it hit and sank into the dirt below. And then I stood, trying to convince myself I'd captured Katara's grief and left it behind where it could never hurt her again.