Aoi stared at the mourners. It was a stranger's funeral and he was here anyway. It wasn't his first stranger's funeral lately and he didn't think it would be his last either. Not that he was unknownin the place. He saw nods of acknowledgment; they like himself, were attending a funeral not of their relative. They shared a bond. They have all been neutralized.
Aoi like so many other firebenders discovered bending early, in his case he was five. It was something that he had took for granted, like having a hand or a leg. Now that it was gone... Not that he couldn't feel his bending, that was the worse part, it was always there like a faint shadow, that would elude him whenever he reached for it. Always out of grasp, never reaching. Phantom pain.
All the benders who had been neutralized was wrong. They felt off even to non benders. No one could stand being in their presence for long; they felt strange, unnatural and those who tried would find themselves fleeing for no reasonable reason. It was instinctive, they were wrong and associating them with was to be avoided. Being around other neutralized was painful as well.
Aoi didn't mind the loneliness. It was easier. He didn't have to pretend to be who he was. Because Aoi like all other neutralized knew they were only pale echoes of their former self. Like a plant without sun, Aoi was fading. Aoi was cold, all the time and he felt as though would never get warm again. It was always worst in the mornings. The sun didn't warm him. It could have been the alien moon for all the heat it brought him. It was as if Agni, himself had turned his face away from him. Aoi felt like he was in one of his grandparent's spirit tales. This, he imagine would be how spirit wounds would be like. After all didn't Amon claim his powers came from the spirit world?
It didn't surprise Aoi at all that this neutralized firebender took his own life. After all Aoi felt the temptation to do the same everyday or at least the morning half of it. Each day was harder then the day before. Less hope, more despair. Waiting for a dawn that might never come.
As the Hierophant rang the bell. Aoi turned to leave. Wincing as small molten drops of flames came into existence as mourners lit their joss sticks with their firebending to pay their final respects to the decease. Aoi stared once more at the crowds of mourners. He was surrounded by people and he never felt more alone. He walked out.
Aoi stared at the flicking match, he held in his hand staring at the hypnotic flame. The match almost was burnt out. He had put off the inevitable long enough. Aoi drop the match onto his oil soaked skin. The pain was terrible. Aoi was certain his screams would have fit right into those spirit tales his grandparents loves so much to scare him with. But stronger then the pain, was the sense of joy within him. He was whole once more.
