The gravestone was an accurate reflection on what she was like in life: Solid, simple, strong, and devoid of the colours that she she would have never had any concept of. The iron sky matched it perfectly, making it difficult for the old man standing over the stone to distinguish where grave ended and the sky began. True, that could have been because his vision was on the way out anyway, although perhaps that wouldn't be so bad - it would mean that he would finally be able to fully understand what the woman in the grave had experienced her entire life. Ah, but then he never could fully understand her anyway, the two of them were always too different for that to happen.
The funeral was over now; the others had moved off to grieve privately, or had already said their farewells. Zuko and Mai certainly had, and were already on their way back to the Fire Nation. Who could blame them - in their advanced age, they could barely stand to be away from the constant warmth of the archipelago that was their homeland - it had been a miracle that they had made it here at all. Although it had seemed that they had wanted to be away from it all quickly, no-one had thought they were being disrespectful - The Fire Lord had after all been the one who had financed the funeral, and even had a city renamed in her honour.
A gust of wind blew some dust past the old man, bringing him back to the present moment. Realising he was not alone anymore, he looked up past the gravestone and saw an old woman standing there, blue eyes and blue robes much more muted than they normally were, perhaps because of the occasion, perhaps because of the environment. Beside her was a young woman, clad in dull greens, with short black hair hidden beneath a military cap of some description. Katara, his wife, and Lin, the dead woman's daughter. Both were looking downcast, each grieving privately but together, sharing a burden in a way which he only wish he could.
But Aang knew that no matter how he wanted to, he could never grieve with his beloved or the child of his friend. Because he had a connection with the woman that was somehow more profound, although he felt extremely guilty and selfish for even thinking it. He knew that the dead woman was loved by those around her - no matter how difficult she could be to deal with at times. But somehow, he could sense that their relationship was deeper even than the one between mother and daughter, possibly even deeper than the relationship between himself and his wife.
He wasn't sure why, but he knew that although he hadn't changed, he was no longer the same. He knew his friend's death hit him harder than it should have. As though with her passing, something inside him had been crushed until it was no longer there: he was merely a husk, a thin layer of skin held together by apathy, whilst hot air blew uselessly within him. And he didn't know why this was, which was beyond frustrating. He really wished there was someone who he could speak to about all this... Or maybe it was just the grief of losing a friend, a very close friend at that (perhaps even more than that whispered some dark voice in the back of his head, but he squashed it before it could spread its poison any further). Regardless, he probably should speak to someone, if only to grieve. But he would have to be selective.
Avatar Aang turned and walked quietly away from Toph Bei Fong's grave.
He ended up deciding to speak to his previous incarnations to solve his conundrum, since all his (still living friends) were bound to be insulted, hurt and betrayed by the sense that he was somehow more hurt by the loss than they. And he had no proof of the depth of his loss, aside from some hunch (or was that his back playing up again - he really needed to get Katara onto that). Roku materialised in front of him, the old man looking benevolently down at the younger Avatar.
"Greetings Aang. It has been sometime. You have aged considerably in the time I see," Roku spoke with his usual deep voice, rich with wisdom and authority.
"Roku, I need some final help before I join your ranks," Aand asked. Even now, he still had to look up to the (absurdly tall) Fire Nation Avatar, but he was not bothered by it - if anything, he felt a little relieved, as it somehow indicated that he had more to learn from his previous incarnations.
Roku was silent, indicating for Aang to continue.
Breathing heavily, the airbender decided to go with the simplest explanation. After all, he was sure the Avatar state would somehow be able to transfer the details along the proverbial chain.
"I recently lost my old friend and earthbending master, Toph Bei Fong. She passed away peacefully in her sleep, which to be honest I was surprised at, but relieved at the same time. However, for some reason I feel her loss more keenly than I feel I should. When my beloved friend and brother-in-law Sokka died two years ago, I wasn't as distraught as I have been about Toph. I have the feeling that we shared some bond that should have been stronger than it was, but for the life of me I cannot figure out what it was. I know it wasn't romantic love - I have a beautiful wife who fulfills that role more than perfectly. But still I suffer from this problem. Do you know why this is?"
Roku was silent for several moments. Aang was about to give up on the statue-like incarnation, when he finally heard that familiar voice rumble out an answer.
"You may be aware that one of our previous encounters had a run in with Koh the Face Stealer, over the loss of his beloved some 900 years ago. Before they were both destroyed by that dangerous spirit, our previous incarnation placed a binding spell of sorts on himself and his beloved - that no matter what happened, the two of them would be reincarnated together, so they would be able to escape Koh's wrath, and be together across their lives on this world. Now, this has translated into a variety of different types of closeness that we have experienced since then. For myself, I was blessed to meet the wondrous Gyatso in the Southern Air Temple, and we became fast friends for life. I know other reincarnations have had romantic attachments to this other half, whilst for others it has been a sibling or even enemies - I myself thought that Zuko would have been your incarnation's version of this closeness."
Aang had to chuckle at the thought of the Fire Lord being his "soul mate" for lack of a better phrase. Although he had nothing but respect for the honourable and kind man, he could hardly call him his soul mate.
Roku began to disappear, and Aang accepted that this discussion was over. As he left the spirit world, the airbender was left pondering a myriad of questions.
Had Toph been his soul mate? If she was, did that somehow cheapen his wonderful life with Katara, and their family they had? Surely not - he felt infinite love for all of them, as well as the paternal pride he had for his sons and daughter. So what did that make Toph? A lover that could have been perhaps - but that had never been an option - she rarely expressed those sorts of emotions towards anyone (it was a shock when she had gotten pregnant, although she never did reveal who the father was). Perhaps they had meant to be only friends, in the same way as his old teacher had been close with Roku - partners in crime, with bonds that ran deeper than could be imagined.
Perhaps that was what a soul mate was? Not necessarily a lover, although that was always an option, but someone who complimented you perfectly? Someone who would always be perfect for your needs, and who you would be perfect for as well, whether that be familial, romantic or platonic.
Aang shook his head. He was very tired, and these philisophical musings weren't helping. After paying his final respects, resting a beautiful metal flower beside the gravestone, he made his way to the bed he shared with his wife. After kissing her gently, he began drifting away. Perhaps next time, he thought before the blackness descended, he would be Toph's lover. But for now, he was content having known her as his friend and teacher in this life.
"Hurry up Twinkle-Toes!" A young voice calls out across - well, it would be nothing, bar the ever shifting shapes in the blackness. Wherever "here" is, "here" is evidently alive.
Some more giggles, and Aang finds himself chasing her through the strange place, seeking her out. She is elusive, and whenever he thinks he has her cornered, she slips away again, leaving him always behind.
He does catch her eventually, placing his hand on her arm before she can vanish into the blackness once more. She is the young girl when they first met - all snarkiness and childishness, without the cares and jaded cynicism she developed as an adult. He is aware that he is in his younger body as well; a twelve year old boy in bright orange and yellow robes, clean shaven and skinny. But perhaps this is better than meeting as the old people they became. It seems more appropriate, more real, than anything else they could have been, and Aang realises that he has been missing this Toph for a long time.
She laughed at him and punches him just a little too hard in the shoulder, knowing he will understand the affection behind the blow.
"What took you so long?"
And although it is a simple question about the chase they just experienced, it is also a question about everything they had together in this life. He had taken too long to break out of his icy prison, taken too long to find her, taken too long to kiss her, taken too long to be with her, taken too long to...
But none of that matters now, because those blind eyes, which Aang somehow feels are beginning to see again, are looking at him questioningly, and he doesn't know how to answer. Because how can you say that you were in love without realising it yourself, too late to do anything but let it slip away? And how can you possibly tell your soul mate that she cannot be your wife, because you already belong to another?
But again it is irrelevant, because Aang knows this story has happened before, and will happen again. Although he missed his chance to love her in this life, she was his friend - a close friend, with whom he could never have done anything without. She had been his soul mate without being his wife - his rock in the hurricane that was the world he inhabited. And he knew that they would meet again, next time. He could try again then to get it right.
"I don't know Toph - perhaps next time you shouldn't run so fast!"