In the Dark and the Chill and the Rain
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is sort of an unofficial follow-up to my superbig Avatar: the Last Airbender fanfiction, Where Words Fail, which revolved around the Freedom Fighters post-Jet seeing the war through to the bitter end. I'm doing my best to make this story "universal," where you don't have to have read WWF to understand what's going on here, but unfortunately, I'm a man of poor habit. If anything is confusing about their location, I apologize - I tried to answer all questions in the narrative to the best of my abilities.
SCENE DIVIDE
Longshot was exhausted.
Okay, 'exhausted' was too bland and unimpressive, but the point remained nonetheless, and he couldn't really bother to think up any other words. That was The Duke's turf - he was the smartest of the lot, and his vocabulary was tremendous, and if Longshot weren't exhausted, he might have asked the pintsized Freedom Fighter for his assistance.
It was the kind of exhaustion where one's muscles went slack and only tensed up in feeble protest, to the point where even something as simple as lifting a tea saucer had become a monumental task. The kind of exhaustion where every breath was heavy and hard, almost (but not quite) burning. The kind of exhaustion when your eye sockets felt so dry, your eyes threatened to roll out on their own accord. It didn't help that the war had only just come to a close two days prior - and hell, even surviving all the way to that crimson-skied crescendo had been a nigh-catastrophic gauntlet of fighting and strategy and coping with the loss of friends and reuniting with others, and and and.
"Hey, Longshot."
The archer quirked an eyebrow and turned to face the speaker - wincing as plain roared to life in his side. He clapped a hand down on the spot, palm and fingertips digging into his ribs beneath the rough fabric of his tunic and bit his lower lip to keep from hissing. Just remember, Longshot - the Earth Kingdom was free. In shambles, but free. The exhaustion and hurt were worth it. As long as he kept that front of mind, the pain wasn't so bad.
"Sorry," Smellerbee said, flinching. "Um - you gonna be okay? I could get some ice."
There was ice here? Longshot cast a dubious glace around him.
"No, but I figured I should at least offer."
Longshot rolled his eyes and smirked in response.
'Here' was an abandoned apartment in the Lower Ring of Ba Sing Se; the two, The Duke, and a few other Freedom Fighters had been squatting here for the past couple days, a sort of impromptu headquarters where Smellerbee organized search parties for those allies that were still M.I.A, amongst them Pipsqueak and Sneers. He hated it here, it reminded him far too much of the place he, Bee and Jet shared before...well, before: two small rooms (one all-purpose living area, one bathroom), with a single, filthy mattress thrown haphazardly into one corner, two rickety, uncomfortable chairs (one of which Longshot currently occupied), a small stove, and a closet devoid of any personal effects. Not to mention small - that had been the worst part. Their old apartment had been tiny to the point of claustrophobic, and while this one was a mite bigger, there was still half a dozen people currently residing in it (even if most of them had left to search not long ago). The differences? Well, the wood was a bit thrashed, and the floor darkened with soot - and Longshot was pretty sure he'd seen a sizeable bloodstain upon first entering, but Smellerbee had been quick to cover it up with a reed mat. He didn't care enough to check - Spirits knew how much blood had already been spilled in the streets, staining the tan stone maroon.
It smelled like burnt chalk in here - the now-familiar odor of burnt stone, wafting in from outside, through the open windows. The archer would just as soon have kept them closed if it would keep the stench from seeping in, but A/ it wouldn't, and B/ at least a draft could pass through. Summer may have officially ended, but it was still freaking hot out there. Longshot wiped the back of his hand across his forehead, brushing away the sweat.
Yeah, this place had seen some tough times during the Fire Nation's occupation of Ba Sing Se, but it was stable enough and it could accommodate the small cadre of Freedom Fighters until they could move on. It was practical, it was sufficient - it was the life they were used to, even before coming here seeking out their collective Second Chance.
"All the same, we need to finish the sweep of the southeastern area of the Lower Ring," Smellerbee said, swinging the second chair to face the archer and plopping down into it. She reached into a pocket on her pants, withdrawing a small piece of charcoal and a worn, folded piece of paper. She flicked the paper open (it had seen a rough time, crinkled and folded and crinkled again, to the point where it was more like a napkin than something to write on) and bit her lower lip, scrutinizing it with narrowed eyes. She brought one gloved hand up to her cheek and ghosted her fingers across an inch-long, scarred-up cut, a result of the battle. The same cheek was still a little on the puffy side - she'd taken a solid punch to the face near the end of the fight, but the swelling had gone down considerably. "I can't afford to stay much longer - I need to go to the Fire Nation capital to meet with Aang and Zuko, if we're going to establish the proper connections a newly-formed group of mercenaries will need."
Longshot nodded and blew out a puff of air, making a few stray strands of hair dance in front of his eyes. He swept the offending strands out of the way - noticed, not for the first time, that his knuckles were bruised and scarred. They were the only visible wounds he'd sustained (that he could tell), but he hadn't gotten away otherwise unscathed.
Bee should do what she had to - the welfare of the Freedom Fighters was no small thing to sneeze at, and it wasn't like they could resort to mugging Fire Nation caravans that passed through the forest anymore. Longshot would stay behind to help find anybody they'd left behind, if necessary.
"Thanks," his partner said, flashing him a grateful grin. "I dunno what I'd do without you, Longshot."
The archer grinned. She was soooo lucky he was too burnt out to think of a witty retort.
"I take what victories I can get." Her grin widened. She set the paper across one knee - a map of the city, sections of the Lower Ring marked off with charcoal circles. Pursing her lips, she jabbed one of the unmarked sections (the southeastern area) with the tip of the charcoal before circling it. "This is where you're going to focus for now. I need to check in with the people we left waiting outside the city, see how many of our people we've recovered - get anybody fit enough to help us out. When I'm done there, I'll come out and meet up with you."
Sounded like a plan. The archer nodded again and rubbed the base of his skull, knuckles bumping against his ponytail and the underside of his hat. With a heave and a grunt, he pushed himself up into a standing position and planted a hand on Smellerbee's shoulder; she didn't need to worry. They'd hunt everybody down, for good or ill. Longshot would make sure they'd get at least that much closure.
SCENE DIVIDE
One week later
Longshot found himself a nice, shady roof to perch on before settling down, crossing his legs and furrowing his brow, the adobe shingles cool against his butt, if not a little uncomfortable. That was the thing: growing up jumping from tree branch to tree branch as was a Freedom Fighters' wont meant that the fastest way to get from point A to point B was taking to the rooftops of this place. The fact that they were all more or less on level surface and were equal height made them easy enough to traverse, and you really didn't get much of a rush from it, but it was made tricky by sloped or damaged roofs. The worst ones were like this one, slanted and the shingles made of scalloped, clay tiles that could snap easily if one landed on them wrong...but Longshot had wizened up since last time that had happened. That had given him an adrenalin rush, one he was glad to never have to repeat.
He reached into his tunic and withdrew the map, entrusted to him by Smellerbee when she departed from Ba Sing Se; he unfurled it and glared at its contents, at the increased number of rings scrawled on its surface - to the point where the entire thing was just shy of becoming a smudge of black. Not like it mattered: the archer and his band of Freedom Fighters (four others, ordered by Bee to assist Longshot) had combed the streets of the Lower Ring and most of the Middle Ring, and still a few people were unaccounted for. This had been so much easier when the number of people missing was in the double-digits, but there were still five Freedom Fighters out there somewhere, alive or dead. The needle in the proverbial haystack.
Great.
At least Pipsqueak and Sneers had been found shortly before Smellerbee left, much to the archer's relief.
And! And it'd be so much easier if the people of Ba Sing Se would be a little more helpful. They generally weren't - too busy picking up the pieces of their own lives, smoothing out the streets, wrangling up what Fire Nation soldiers that straggled behind, removing the shrapnel from their houses and tending to their lost love ones. Seriously, was a simple yes or no so hard to come by? Most of the people Longshot had come across were just outright inhospitable, turning him away or even outright yelling at him - the soft-spoken man who dared poll around for missing friends. Why were people so - so - selfish?
The archer pinched his sinuses and let his eyelids slide shut; he needed tea like nobody's business, something to calm him down. It wasn't entirely fair to blame the citizens of Ba Sing Se for his woes (a little cooperation would have been appreciated nonetheless); they'd just spent an entire season under the occupation of an enemy force, and had bore witness to a massive, bloody battle that ultimately ended in liberation.
It wasn't made any better by the gutwrenching homesickness. It was a long story, but he hadn't been home - his proper home, Hong Ye forest - in over a season. He knew that's where Bee was taking the other Freedom Fighters when their tour of the Fire Nation was over, and it had been so long since basquing in the cool wind, admiring the thick, dark-brown trees towering up to the sky, with leaves of crimson, gold and orange all year 'round (hence why the forest was named as it was: "red autumnal leaves"). He missed the seasonal rotation of scents - right now the aroma of cinnamon would be eking in beneath the waning scent of honey, and within another week the latter would be gone entirely. He yearned for his old quarters - nothing more than a tent erected in a wooden platform built around the trunk of a tree, suspended high above the ground, obscured by the gorgeous canopy on all sides. Humble, practical, but dammit, it was home. Moreso than that cramped, old apartment, situated in the middle of a dystopian city stifled by subdued tyranny.
If he'd known it would have taken this long to find everybody, he would have enlisted more Freedom Fighters to stay and help. Besides, if he hadn't found them yet, they were probably...no, it was better not to think like that. To not give up hope, not yet. His small cadre of Freedom Fighters only departed for home on Longshot's command.
Okay. Okay, calm down. Longshot sucked in a deep breath before squinching his eyes shut. Was there a tea shop near here? There had to be, he remembered having seen one near here a couple days ago. He lowered his head and furrowed his brow, trying to remember -
...Right.
He remembered now. It wasn't just any tea shop; it was the tea shop, the one Jet had barged into, chasing after Lee and Mushi on the pretense that they were Firebenders. Starting that brawl, getting himself arrested...and the irony that the boy with the scarred face and his uncle were not only Firebenders, but the exiled crowned prince and the great Dragon of the West, was not lost on him. Nor was the fact that both of the aforementioned Firebenders would soon be two of the Freedom Fighters' highest-paying clients, which was kind of a big pill that needed swallowing.
But...it wasn't the tea shop's fault that Jet's patriotism overrode his common sense, and Longshot really needed something to help himself relax, even just a little. He let his eyes slide shut and nodded to himself before pushing up to his feet and making his way across the rooftops towards his new destination.
SCENE DIVIDE
By the time Longshot arrived at the tea shop, he was surprised to find that it looked the same now as it had a season ago. Sure, yes, it looked a little scuffed up from the occupation, but it was otherwise intact, although that wasn't entirely what he'd meant. Something had happened, despite his self-proclaimed irreprehension towards the place, to make it look more ominous in his head. Not incredibly so, no, but...it was hard to put into words. Guilt by association was the best way to describe it, as if it were a tainted thing. And why wouldn't it be? This was the last time he saw Jet before Lake Laogai, this was where he and Smellerbee failed to come through for their friend and brother, jaded to the point where salvaging their new, tattered lives was more important than saving a comrade in need.
Longshot had done his best to come to terms with that after he and Smellerbee had escaped Lake Laogai before circling the world, but that sensation of having a pit in his stomach whenever he reflected on those five minutes on the cold, starless night never fully went away.
He slid down off the roof, grabbing a windowsill with his left hand as he fell, swinging himself up, around, and down again onto a stack of crates, the wind scraping his face, making his eyes water - felt his pulse speed up, but the impact jarring up his legs brought him out of the moment, fleeting as it was. He hopped down off the top of the stack, landed in a crouch, one hand pressed against the ground, the stone rough against even his calloused fingertips. He righted himself and crossed the street (no longer scorched or bloodstained as it had been a week ago), planting a hand on the front door of the tea shop and opening it, stepping beyond the threshold.
Having not seen the interior of the shop before, he had to admit that it was pretty homely. A grade up from the usual slummy stores you would find in the Lower Ring, but still plain. Walls carved from beige stone rose up on all sides, the ceiling held up by dark, wooden support beams set into the walls. Six small, wooden tables hunkered on the floor, a low, narrow bench on each side, bordering on rickety - definitely uncomfortable. Longshot had a hard time believing four people could sit comfortably at tables this size. At the back end of the shop, a partition separated the front from a storage room, and a wooden countertop separated Longshot (and any other potential patrons) from the partition. It was cool (well, cooler) in here than outside (thank the Spirits for the shade), and he rubbed a hand across his brow to wipe away the sheen of sweat that had percolated. The aromas of various teas wafted in the air, and already Longshot found himself unwinding, knots in his shoulders he hadn't even been aware of undoing themselves.
Yeah. This was just what he'd needed.
Only three other customers were in the store; two older men, in their late forties at least, shared a table, chatting with each other about what sounded like owning a zoo beyond the Inner Wall of the city, wearing dusty, browngreen robes and one with graying hair pulled back into a braid. The other patron's back was facing Longshot - obviously a woman, judging from the curve of her hips and the roundness of her shoulders beneath her brown robes. Her hair, the color of chocolate, was tied back into two braids that disappeared over her shoulders, and from behind, the archer could see her bangs sweeping down over her cheek. There was something familiar about her - something tugging at the back of his mind - but it was a fleeting notion, and he brushed it away as he drew a seat at a table nearer the to the service counter. The bench's legs scraped and skidded against the stone floor as Longshot plopped down into it, blowing out a puff of air.
His initial summation had been right: the things were uncomfortable.
It was then that a man peeked around the edge of the partition, having heard Longshot's arrival; he vanished again for a moment before emerging, making his way to Longshot's table, gracing him with a small bow. Middle-aged, with a soul patch and a thin, long moustache, lines etched into his face, and an apron draped over his robes, Longshot could only assume that this was the shop's owner - though maybe he was wrong. Who knew?
"Hello, and welcome," the man said, voice dripping false endearment, fixing Longshot with the most impressive shit-eating grin the archer had seen in a long time. "What may I get you to drink?"
"Ginseng, please." The archer nodded at the man, who nodded in return and scurried back around the partition.
Okay, then. Longshot reached into his tunic again, once more withdrawing the map, tattered and flaccid, its surface smeared with charcoal. He set it out in front of him, folded his arms across the table and hunched forward, sighing through his nose; the more time passed, the more hopeless this situation became. Five Freedom Fighters, and all of Ba Sing Se to comb. He ran a hand up the side of his head, calloused fingertips digging into his scalp; losing an ally was never an easy thing (even if it was something you grew up with, living a life outdoors, combating local Fire Nation squads with hand-me-down items and secondhand armor that never really fit properly), and they had lost a few people in the battle for Ba Sing Se, some even turning up dead after Smellerbee and most of the others had left for the Fire Nation capital. Those last five, though...
Damn. He wished he hadn't promised Smellerbee closure, because at this rate he wouldn't be able to provide it. He hated squelching on his promises.
"Hey there. Any luck finding your friends?"
Longshot blinked - jerked - brought his eyes upward. The girl who had been sitting on the opposite side of the room had made her way up to Longshot's table, grinning, a cup of tea in one hand, a hand planted on the tabletop. Seeing her from the front stirred the feelings of deja vu inside him; her face was round and pale, and her brown eyes were the shape of almonds. He knew her from somewhere - but where?
"Haha, sorry - I didn't mean to startle you. Mind if I sit down?" She gestured to the bench to Longshot's left, and the archer allowed a faint nod; she set herself down, her robes rustling, and brought her tea cup to her lips, taking a slow sip. "You're still at this, huh?"
The archer nodded, furrowed his brow - who was this girl? It was maddening - she knew who he was, but damned if he could figure out the other way. He didn't like being in the dark like this. It felt like somebody was playing a very elaborate prank on him.
"I wish I could have been more helpful," the girl conceded, sighing. "I mean - I've been keeping an eye out, but you know how this place is."
"Yeah." Longshot drew a deep breath; this was the most awkward part about any encounter with a person. The archer liked to believe he was good with faces and names, but every once in a while, some person from out of the blue would prove him wrong. "I'm sorry, but - do I know you?"
The girl blinked, and after a beat, chuckled. "Sorry, I guess you wouldn't remember me very well. My name is Jin - I saw you a few days ago. You asked me if I'd seen any of your friends." She extended a hand.
"Longshot," he replied. The archer reached across the table and took it, her skin soft, warm and smooth; everything clicked into place, and the archer allowed himself this memory lapse just this once. He'd been polling around so much, had seen so many faces, that it wasn't a surprise that he didn't recognize Jin right away. That made this situation less awkward, at least.
"So, are you from around Ba Sing Se?" Jin asked, leaning forward and examining the map.
"No. Hong Ye forest, over to the west." The archer never felt comfortable talking this much; while he certainly no longer held himself to the vow he took the day the Fire Nation came into his life (Smellerbee had the uncanny ability to force words from him regardless of how hard he tried to keep silent), it still felt...unnatural. If his time on the road had taught him anything, though, it was that not everybody had a knack for understanding what he was saying without actually vocalizing anything, and without Smellerbee around to help translate for him, it was just easier to concede to what was necessary. He hated small talk. "You?"
"Me neither," Jin admitted, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "I came to Ba Sing Se after the Fire Nation razed my village a few years ago, and I've been here ever since."
Longshot nodded again, and felt a light frown tugging down on his lips. "Alone?"
"Not at first." Jin shrugged and glanced away. "But enough about me - I still want to know how you're doing."
The archer sighed again and shook his head - and that was all the body language Jin needed. She rested a gentle hand on Longshot's forearm and fixed him with a sympathetic gaze. "I'm sorry. But listen - um - I have some free time in the mornings and evenings; if you want, we can meet up somewhere and I can help you search."
Longshot paused - for an instant, considered reacting wryly, but the extra help would be appreciated, and Jin was a nice enough girl. Spirits knew that he could use a friendly face in this city in the throes of recovery.
Something felt right about this, though - a pressure he hadn't realized was building inside his chest released itself, and he felt this tingling sensation in his fingertips. Maybe it was the kindness of this stranger (that's what she was, for all intents and purposes), one face out of thousands willing to help; maybe it was the air in this place, warm and soothing and smelling of boiling tea. The physical comfort helped, too - a caring hand supporting him. At last, he nodded, and murmured, "Thanks."
SCENE DIVIDE
Three evenings later
Dusk had begun to settle in as Longshot waited, perched on the roof of a pet shop, one knee drawn up to his chest, an arm slung over it. He gazed up at the sky, the last vestiges of sunlight peeking over the horizon set by Ba Sing Se's walls, darkness seeping in where orange light retreated. With it came a cool breeze, caressing his cheek, ruffling his clothes; the past few days had been considerably more tolerable, the raging heat yielding to a more comfortable temperature.
Below, the normal scuffling of passers-by was masked by voracious squawking, growling and screeching of the pets in the building upon which he sat; the past three nights Longshot had visited this place, it was always the same story, a cacophonous cadre of creatures crawling and croaking constantly. (The archer had a soft spot for alliteration.) He hadn't ever had a reason to go to a place like this (so far back as he could remember), since in the forest, any animal you wanted could be found for free with enough patience and bait, and when he, Jet and Bee had been living here, they had enough to worry about with rent and food. (They hadn't even been able to afford new clothes, so animals were right out of the question. Jet going missing for two weeks hadn't helped much, either, because then it was two people footing a three-person lease.) Pet shops were a new thing to him, and even though he knew what they were, the tumult was enough to keep him from exploring.
He figured that the shop's roof factored into it as well: the shingles were those obnoxious, scalloped ones, and were really uncomfortable under his butt...but he wouldn't move until Jin emerged from within, and he was more than willing to allow the shop to be a scapegoat for its roof.
It was better to think about that sort of thing, though, then the inevitable choice he'd have to face.
It took a few more minutes, and by the time the sun had vanished completely, Jin walked out onto the street, immediately turning and craning her head back to Longshot. The buildings and streets of Ba Sing Se were bathed in cool blue, the only illumination coming from torches mounted into storefronts, or shining through front doors and windows of the stores themselves. There weren't any stars tonight, and the moon only barely peeked through a blanket of clouds that would soon engulf the entire sky. She smiled and beckoned for him to join her, and he was happy to oblige; he pushed away from the clay tiles and skittered down to the roof's edge, dropping down and landing in a crouch, the impact jarring up his knees. He straightened himself up and brushed off the front of his tunic, nodding at the girl.
"Right. Off we go then?" Jin beamed. "Good to see you could come down here to the level of us mere mortals."
Longshot shrugged and rolled his eyes, and Jin giggled in response. He pulled out the map again and angled it in the torchlight of the pet shop. He gestured for her to join him, and he jabbed a finger at the Middle Ring - not much left to be covered there, and Longshot had already sent members of his party ahead to scout the Upper Ring, though it was a moot point. No Freedom Fighter would have found himself there in the battle, and even if he had, the fops and nobles would have done little to help him after the fact, choosing to hide rather than dirty themselves.
Jin managed to pick up on his sentiment well enough after a little scrutiny, and puffed her cheeks out, crossing her arms over her chest. "Just the nature of the beast, I guess. Not that it makes it any better."
She'd acclimated remarkably well to reading Longshot over the past few days - definitely better than most would. It had caught the archer off-guard at first, but he wasn't displeased by this turn of events; the less talking he did, the more he remained in his comfort zone. The archer stuffed the map back into his tunic and lead the way up towards the Middle Ring, adjusting his bow, which he'd slung across one shoulder.
"You're teaching me how to use those things, you know."
Longshot cast a sidelong glance to Jin, hiking an eyebrow. Was he, now?
"Consider it a fee," the girl said, sticking her tongue out and grinning. "It's better than paying actual money, right? Besides, I figure a little physical activity could be cathartic."
Longshot kept his mouth pressed in a flat line. She was fortunate that he was such a gentleman; it would not be above many others to make a crass remark in response to that.
"Oh dear, was I that obvious?" Jin glanced away and frowned, furrowing her brow. "I need to practice my come-ons."
She - what? The Freedom Fighter did a double-take, eyes going wide, heat rising up into his cheeks - that - um - well -
Jin giggled and pinched Longshot's arm. "You should see your face - it was tooootally worth it."
Jerk.
"Thanks." She beamed.
They continued towards the Middle Ring, being careful not to duck into any alleys; Longshot knew what kind of people lurked in them after dark, and while he was more than capable of protecting himself (the bow and quiver on his back spoke volumes), he wasn't sure how well he'd do with Jin in tow. To be honest, he wasn't entirely sure he wanted her to see what Longshot could - would - do in a fight...that was a different side of the archer that he didn't expose to people if he could help it. The fighting, the death, knowing just the right places of the human anatomy to shoot to put your enemy out of commission; like talking, around Jin it wasn't something he was comfortable with.
Which was the weird thing! Longshot had come to terms with himself - every aspect of himself - long ago. So why was Jin the exception?
"It's going to rain," Jin murmured, snapping Longshot from his reverie. The archer quirked his head to the side and cast a questioning gaze at her; she shook her head and rubbed her scalp, pursing her lips. "I can smell it in the air - hard to explain. Like...the air gets tangy."
Ah. Well, a little rain never hurt, right?
Jin paused, squinting to make out Longshot's facial expressions (getting increasingly harder with the dark of night) before saying, "Yeah...a little rain. Not a problem."
Longshot hiked an eyebrow. "You don't sound so sure," he said, yielding to necessity once again.
"Huh? No, no. Not a problem at all." She grabbed Longshot's hand in her own and grinned. "Let's go!"
SCENE DIVIDE
"You are the world's biggest, fibbiest liar," Longshot grumbled, hugging himself to keep warm. Rain pissed down from high above, the stuff running down his face in rivulets, soaking him to the bone. Beside him, under the cover of Longshot's hat, Jin fixed him with a sheepish grin.
"Hey, trust me. Things will work out."
The archer grimaced to keep his teeth from chattering. It had begun drizzling halfway to the Middle Ring, and by the time they reached it, the light rain had turned into a downpour, hard bolts of rain hammering down against the pair, splattering the ground and buildings, making a sizzling sound, like a slab of deer-hare steak cooking on a grill. The stuff ran down Longshot's face in rivulets, weighing his ponytail down, and threatening to drive him to exhaustion all over again. Sure, he'd made good on his promise of being a gentleman and lent his hat to Jin to keep her from getting just as soaked, but Spirits, he wished he could get away with being a jerk. Just this once.
Smellerbee would have kicked him in the shins if he followed through with that, though, and she could be vicious when she wanted to be.
"So, what's the plan?" Jin asked, poking Longshot in the bicep. "Or is it the same plan?"
"In this weather? We might as well pack it in," Longshot admitted, slumping a little bit. Maybe it was a sign, pointing to the decision he would eventually need to make, the Spirits giving him a guiding hand. He blew out a puff of air. "There's an empty apartment a block away that we can camp out in until the rain passes - "
" - all the better, since it's gonna turn into a storm soon."
The archer shook his head and resisted the urge to pinch his sinuses. "Should I ask how you know?"
"Honestly, with a nose like yours, I'm surprised you can't smell the ozone." Jin winked. "Let's go to this empty apartment of yours."
Longshot nodded and led the way through the downpour, pressing his lips into a flat line. It didn't take too long to find the apartment in question; the Freedom Fighter had been scouting this general area for over a week now, and had made a note of finding "waypoints" where he or his team could pass time in case of some extenuating circumstance that would keep them from searching. So even through the blinding rain landing heavily on him, on Jin, on the streets, on the buildings, he navigated the pair safely to the squat, roughshod building in question.
Jin stopped short and gaped at Longshot's chosen retreat before craning her neck and fixing him with a questioning glare. "This place is a hole."
Longshot shrugged. Yeah, he imagined there was a lot to be desired; one of the few single-story apartments in the Lower Ring, the wood was heavily charred in some places, and the doors and shutters had been torn off the front of the building, leaving gaping, empty holes leading into the darkness beyond. While it didn't look ready to fall apart (Longshot had made sure it was structurally sound before electing it as an eligible hiding spot), it would still only provide a minimum amount of cover from the pending squall. Staving off the chill as best he could, he led the way into the building, keeping a hand on the grip of his bow, just in case they found themselves in some unexpected company.
Stepping beyond the threshold yielded the burnt-out remains of what probably was a decent-looking home before the Fire Nation occupied the area; Longshot spotted the splintered remains of a table heaped in one corner of the room, poorly obscured by a singed, reed mat. There weren't any chairs to speak of, and the mattress was covered in grime and mold. For what it was worth, this looked almost identical to the one he and Smellerbee had found when establishing their rescue and retrieval base of operations, just that this one had been hit much harder than the other.
The main problem - one Longshot had kept from Jin - is that the roof was filled with holes. Not big ones, no great, gaping wounds completely exposing the apartment to the full fury of the elements, but small ones, maybe five, the smallest being the size of his fist, the largest the diameter of his hat. Water had started to puddle on the stone floor, but for the most part, it was dry, a secret blessing Longshot was thankful for.
"Okay, this is more than a hole. This is a pit." Jin narrowed her eyes before peeling Longshot's hat away, handing it back to the sopping-wet archer.
"Better than nothing, though." The archer shrugged, offering an unsaid 'what more do you want?' Clutching his hat in hand, he beckoned for Jin to follow him, and flopped back against the far wall from the door, sliding down, the rough stone catching his tunic, scratching his back. Jin frowned, considered her options, and after a moment, joined him.
"So," Jin said.
"So."
"Look, um - I'm sorry about lying to you." Jin waved a hand in the air, as if encompassing the storm as a whole. "I just thought it'd be a fun time. I mean - I love the rain, personally. That's kind of weird, isn't it?"
The archer shook his head. It wasn't that bizarre.
"People always gripe about it, though. Like, just because it's raining, nothing will ever be good again! Grrr!" She bared her teeth, crossed her eyes, and threw her arms up into the air, flailing them around. Longshot allowed himself a chuckle and he drew his knees up to his chest. "Couldn't they just stop and enjoy it? Rain is cleansing, and it brings life - and honestly, if the Fire Nation had had its way, rain would just become poisonous. They'd spew those toxins into the air, the smog made by their tanks and machines. We got lucky, you know?"
Oh yeah, Longshot knew. It was weird how people were so willing to make themselves miserable, especially when the Fire Nation had done a pretty thorough job of doing it for them.
"Hah."
They lapsed into silence, absorbed by the acrid tang of ozone creeping steadily into the air (thunder and lightning weren't far off now), the pattering of rain on the roof, on the floor. Longshot, normally a proponent of relative silence, fidgeted and bit his lower lip; maybe now was the appropriate time to tell Jin about the decision he had to make. It wasn't like they didn't have an abundance of time to the, or anything, no sir. The Freedom Fighter drew a slow, deep breath and charged head-first into it.
"I think it's time to stop looking," he murmured, the words falling heavy from his lips - and - there, it was out. He'd kept it pent up inside himself for the past couple days as niggling doubt had set in, gnawing at his mind - that, if it was taking this long for him to find his last five compatriots, there was too great a likelihood that he never would. He reached inside his tunic, the fabric cold and wet against his skin, and pulled out the map - what was left of it after being out in the rain, a soaked, brown piece of parchment that looked about ready to fall apart under its own weight. It took some work with numb fingertips, but he managed to pick it open; symbolic of his quest, the ink and charcoal had run, reducing all of his and Smellerbee's hard work to an unflattering stain.
Jin turned to face the archer, eyes wide. "What? Why? Your friends - "
"I would have found them by now." Longshot tossed the parchment that was no longer a map up in the air, and it landed at his feet with a wet splop! "Ba Sing Se is a huge city, but it's not that huge."
"So...that's it, then?" Jin cast a forlorn gaze off to the side.
"That's it." Longshot took another deep breath - but speaking was sort of like magic. He'd been torturing himself over the very real possibility that this was an impossible mission, and had burdened himself down without even realizing it. Ever since he was young, ever since the Fire Nation came to his village, he'd known that verbalizing things gave them heft and substance, made real what wasn't. It was weird, then, that yielding to the ultimate truth made him feel...lighter. His chest tingled and every breath was cool and pure, and he shuddered just the tiniest bit - and that had nothing to do with the cold.
"Well..." Jin leaned in towards Longshot, pressing her shoulder up against his and smiling. "I can see a revelation hatching behind those eyes of yours, mister. You look like an entirely new person."
"But...is it okay, do you think?" The archer furrowed his brow. "This isn't giving up, is it?"
Jin gave a small smile as she nuzzled up against him. "No, it's not giving up."
And that was that: no analysis, no shades of gray just as everything was when you were a Freedom Fighter, everything in its proper place. Maybe this was just what he'd needed: an outside, unbiased perspective of a situation that Longshot would have just continued to drag himself through hot coals over. There was so much ambiguity in a life like this, so much import in doing what was necessary, and for what felt like the first time in a long time, Longshot felt a warm smile cross his face.
"There you go," Jin murmured, her face drawing in close to Longshot's, her gaze soft. "I was wondering if I'd ever get you to crack a..."
She drifted off, but that was okay because all Longshot knew was warmth, his lips pressed against hers, a slow, passionate kiss, leaving the archer heady and light, it was so powerful, so sure, so...
It was over far too soon, as Jin pulled away from the Freedom Fighter, face flushed. Longshot, too, felt heat rising up into his cheeks, and a nervous, giddy laugh escaped him. Tingling joined the heat in his cheeks as he smiled again, even wider than before.
"You said you wanted to learn to use a bow," Longshot whispered, pressing his forehead against Jin's, her skin hot against his, warming him from the freezing rain. "You said you were alone, right? Come back to the forest with me. Start a new life, a fresh life. I'll be able to teach you."
Jin's eyes went wide, shocked at the proposition. "But - "
He put a finger against her lips, murmured, "No buts," and moved in to kiss her again, her breath hot against his face. She didn't argue any more after that.
In the dark and the chill and the rain, light and heat had seeped through, and on this stormy night, everything was right with the world.