This was written for last year's Halloween challenge at Promptbending (you can find a link to the site on my profile). I ended up not finishing this for the deadline (obviously), but better late than never. The prompt is listed at the end.

A Night of Spirits and Friendship

Bolin was not upset. Sure, the masks that he had bought with such excitement still lay on the floor where he'd dropped them after finding Mako's note. It was also true that he hadn't moved or made a sound since he had collapsed on the couch (even Pabu seemed concerned and kept tapping Bolin with a furry paw as if to check if the earthbender was still alive), but that didn't mean anything. Because Bolin was not upset. Not at all.

Or so he told himself.

Bolin unfolded the paper scrunched in his hand and read over the words that he had already memorised.

Bo,

Gone out with Korra. There's some leftovers in the fridge if you need dinner. Try not to destroy the house.

Mako

Bolin sighed and scrunched the note back up in his fist. He knew he had no right to feel hurt. Korra was Mako's girlfriend; it was only natural they would want to spend time together, even if today was Wànshèngjié. So what if tradition stated that every year the brothers would don masks—or at least Mako would after much cajoling on Bolin's part—and go participate in the Republic City festivities. So what if Mako hadn't said a word about going out with Korra instead. Bolin was an adult in his own right and he did not need his brother to hold his hand.

But he did wish that Mako could have told him earlier. He did wish that his brother could have at least apologised instead of leaving him this abrupt note that made no mention of their tradition at all, as if, as if—

"As if he'd forgotten all about it," Bolin said with a sigh.

That was the real issue. It wasn't that Mako had decided to spend time with Korra. It was the simple fact that Bolin felt like he had been forgotten, as if the tradition he had created with his brother since their parents had died wasn't important at all. Though he told himself he had no reason to be upset, a small voice whispered that this wasn't the first time this had happened; that he had been forgotten about and pushed to the side time and time again since he and Mako had got older and Korra had entered their lives.

Bolin slapped his hands against his cheeks. "Pull yourself together, Bolin," he ordered. "You are a handsome, talented pro-bender, have a great sense of humour, and you do not need to feel sorry for yourself just because you're all alone on Wànshèngjié."

Pabu placed a paw on his master's knee and made a chirruping noise.

"Oh, I know you're here, Pabu," Bolin said, rubbing his friend's furry head. "I can always count on you; it's just that—" He broke off and stared at the fire ferret with a dawning smile. "No, you're right!" He stood up and raised his fist to the air. "I don't need Mako. I've got you, and together we can still go out and have fun, right?"

Pabu tilted his head to the side. Somewhere outside, a few crickets chirped.

Bolin folded his arms across his chest and frowned at the fire ferret. "Well, maybe there is something to be said for having a human friend." He rubbed his chin and made a thoughtful sound, then he slapped his fist against his palm. "I've got it!"

The next moment he was standing outside a beautiful mansion, pushing the doorbell with vigour until a short man with a moustache opened the door. One bushy eyebrow was raised.

"Can I help yo—" the man began in an emotionless voice, but Bolin cut in before he could finish.

"I need to see Asami!"

The servant pursed his lips. Perhaps he remembered that short time Bolin had stayed at the mansion and demanded to be towel dried over and over again, among other repetitive tasks.

"I shall see if the mistress will receive you," the man replied with obvious reluctance. "Please, wait—"

"Bolin?"

Both men turned as Asami came walking down the grand stairs, clutching a stack of folders. Pabu chirruped happily.

"Oh, hey!" Bolin greeted, giving a wave. "I'm glad you're here. I came to see if you wanted to go to the Wànshèngjié festivities with me."

Asami's brow creased. "I don't know. Things are kind of tricky with my dad's business, and there's this deal coming up that I—"

"Business schmisness." He raised his finger to the air, nodding wisely as if he were a great philosopher. "You've got to make time for fun as well."

She sighed. "Some fun would be great, but—"

"Aw, c'mon, Asami. Pleeease." He clasped his hands together in supplication and gave her his best puppy polar-dog eyes. "You wouldn't want to leave a poor, lonely guy to walk the streets with only his fire ferret for company, abandoned by his brother and friend, with no one to share the festivities with like some unwanted—"

"Alright, alright," Asami interjected, pinching the bridge of her nose with her forefinger and thumb. "I'll go with you."

Bolin took a step forward. "Really?"

Her eyes warmed into a smile. "Yes, really. Just let me get changed."

"YES!" he cried, jumping into the air and pumping his fist, nearly dislodging Pabu from his shoulder. "I promise you won't regret this. We're going to have a great time!"

She laughed and headed back up the stairs, leaving Bolin to make himself at home while she got ready. By the time they left the mansion, Bolin had reduced the servant to an eye-twitching statue. Not that the earthbender in question seemed to notice. He was too busy asking Asami what she wanted to do first, grinning and swinging his arms as he walked beside her like a toddler too excited to contain himself.

Asami scrunched her nose. "Well, I don't know. I haven't actually attended many street Wànshèngjié festivities before."

Bolin's jaw dropped. "What?"

She shrugged. "There were always 'high society' functions happening that my father expected us to go to instead." She said 'high society' as if it were a lemon sliding on her tongue. "Besides, I never really had any friends to go with."

Bolin managed to close his mouth. "Oh, Asami, you have not lived. Come on!" he said, grabbing her hand and yanking her after him, "it's time for your initiation!"

She stumbled after him, calling him to wait and slow down, but Bolin was not one to be stopped by paltry protests. The scent of fried food and music summoned them to the brightly lit streets where crowds gathered in an array of colours and sounds. There were flame dancers and puppet shows, street magicians and bending presentations. It was a burst of life and excitement, and Bolin took a special kind of pleasure in seeing Asami's eyes glow with wonder at the newness of it all. He knew she would love it. There was just one thing missing …

Bolin reached into his bag and pulled out a red mask that looked like an ogre with bushy eyebrows. An ear-splitting grin curved his mouth as he dangled it in front of Asami.

"What is that?" she asked, leaning her head back.

"Your costume."

"Costume?" she repeated, lifting an eyebrow.

"Yeah, for the Wànshèngjié festival," he explained, and pulled a green one with an overly large grin painted on it and pulled it over his face. "Ta-da!"

Asami's eyebrow lifted even higher and she pointed her finger at the red, ogre-like mask. "You want me to wear that?"

Bolin lifted his mask to reveal a pouting expression. "Aw, c'mon, Asami. Everyone wears them. It's tradition."

"It looks ridiculous," she said flatly.

He folded his arms and assumed a serious expression. "You might think these masks look ridiculous, but they are designed to protect you from the vengeful spirits who roam the world on the night of Wànshèngjié and seek to steal the souls of the living." He made claw-like motions with his hands. "You wouldn't want the spirits to get you, would you?"

Asami just stared at him blankly. "You don't actually believe that, do you?"

He leaned forward, almost poking her in the eye with his finger. "Are you willing to risk it?"

For a moment they just stared at each other. Then she sighed.

"Fine, I'll wear a mask," she said, shaking her head, "but I'm picking my own."

"Great!" he exclaimed, throwing his fist in the air. "Let's find you a mask stall."

In the end, Asami chose a purple mask with feminine features and gold, swirl-like patterns. Bolin didn't think it had much scare impact, but he supposed it suited Asami. She had always liked pretty things, and it did match the purple dress she was wearing. At the very least, there would be no vengeful spirits stealing their souls tonight.

"Oh, oh!" Bolin said, pointing at a stall where buckets had been lined up on a table. "Apple dunking!"

"Apple wha—"

Asami let out a muffled noise as she was suddenly dragged towards the stall. The next moment she and Bolin were standing in front of a bucket of bobbing apples, their masks removed, and their hands clasped behind their backs. There were five other people competing with them, each standing in front of their own bucket.

"Remind me why I'm doing this again?" Asami questioned.

Bolin flashed a toothy grin. "Because you want to have fun!"

"Right," she said in a wilting voice. "Fun."

Suddenly, the stall owner (wearing a mask that looked like a bat-goat), raised his hand and faced the contestants. "Right, everyone remember the rules? Remove the apples from the bucket as fast as you can using nothing but your mouth. The person who finishes first wins." He hit a stick against a small gong. "Go!"

Bolin was dunking his head in the water in a second, teeth and mouth making a grab for any bit of apple he could get. Dimly, he could hear someone getting told off for trying to use their hands, but he was much too focused on his own task. Suddenly, there was a great "whoop" from the watching crowd. He raised his head to see Asami sweep her hair back with an effortless flick of her wrist, apple clenched between her teeth. Bolin's jaw dropped.

"Wow," he said in an impressed voice. "You're really something. I've never seen anyone get it that fast."

She bit into the apple and grinned. "Beginner's luck."

The man in the bat-goat mask gave her the winner's prize, congratulating her for her victory. Asami raised her eyebrow at the stuffed fire ferret.

"Hey, he looks just like Pabu!" Bolin said in excitement. "Don't you agree, Pabu?"

Pabu scrabbled down from Bolin's shoulder and sniffed at the toy Asami was holding. He made a chirruping sound and patted it with his paw, then cocked his head to the side in confusion. No doubt he was wondering why the fuzzy thing that looked like him wasn't responding.

Asami glanced at the toy then at Bolin's shining face. "Here," she said, offering it to him.

"For me?"

She nodded. "Seems like Pabu has taken a liking to it anyway."

Bolin gave her a big hug. "Thanks, Asami!"

She laughed and pulled back. "You're welcome. Now what's next on the agenda?"

Bolin was all too happy to show her the sights. He dragged her from stall to stall, getting her to play the funny little festival games with him and trying all the different sweets and food on display. It was as they were heading towards the hub of the festival, munching on wads of sticky yet fluffy Dragon's Beard, that Bolin spotted the tiny booth. The smell of incense wafted out from the folds of blue silk, beckoning people to follow the mystic scent to whatever lay inside. His eyes scanned the sign above the booth.

"Madam Li's Fortune Telling," he read aloud, then grinned at Asami. "Shall we check it out?"

She shrugged. "I don't really believe in all that fortune telling stuff, but I guess it could be interesting."

"I love these things!" Bolin exclaimed, already marching towards the tent. "Last time I got my fortune read it told me that I was going to have a future filled with adventure." He scratched his chin thoughtfully. "You know, so far it's been pretty accurate."

Asami's lips curved into a reluctant smile. "You really do like all this stuff, don't you?"

Bolin blinked. "What do you mean?"

She shook her head. "Never mind. Let's just go inside."

He didn't push the matter, far too excited to get his fortune told. The inside of the booth was just as he had expected it to be: lots of silk, lots of incense, lots of dangling crystal, and a very old woman sitting on a cushion in front of a low table. She seemed drenched in beads and carved bone, like some hunched creature that rattled every time she moved. Bolin loved every moment of it.

"Take a seat," Madam Li said in a low voice, gesturing to the cushion opposite her.

Bolin nudged Asami to go first. She frowned at him but then settled herself down on the blue cushion. The fortune teller raised her arm in a graceful gesture to make water trickle out from a pot in a translucent arc. Carefully, Madam Li let the water gather in the small plate on the table, then blew on it with her bending to harden the water into ice.

"Place your hand on the ice," Madam Li ordered, "then lay it on the platter of paper. Your fortune will stick to your hand."

Asami did as instructed and peeled off the flimsy bit of paper that was now stuck to her palm. "There's an image of a ring."

"Ahhh," Madam Li said with all the knowing mysticism of her trade. "The symbol of early marriage."

"W-what?" Asami stuttered.

Madam Li smiled, making her tanned face wrinkle even more. "You are going to marry young, my dear. I sense it will not be to the man you expect, but that you will be content."

A crease formed on Asami's brow. "Um, great … I guess."

She stood up, still looking a little unsettled. Bolin bounded forward.

"My turn!" He settled himself on the cushion and rubbed his hands. "C'mon, wealth!"

Holding his breath, he placed his hand against the ice and then pressed his palm to the platter of cut-out bits of paper. Once he felt one of them stick, he lifted his hand and peeled off the image.

"A key," he said, scrunching his nose. "What does that mean?"

"Fame," Madam Li responded. "The spirits tell me that there are great things ahead of you. People will know your name all around the world." She gave a wry smile. "Just be sure to not let it get to your head."

"Alright!" Bolin exclaimed, punching his fist into the air and nearly dislodging Pabu from his shoulder. "I'm gonna be famous!"

Asami pursed her lips. "How come you get to be famous and I just have to marry young?"

Madam Li laughed. "Marriage is not the end of a story, my dear, nor does it mean you have to pack up your independence and put it on a shelf. The spirits felt that this was the fortune you needed to hear; that does not mean you will be unable to shape your own destiny or achieve great things."

"Yeah," Bolin chipped in. "Besides, you're already rich and famous. Leave some luck for us poor, struggling pro-benders."

Asami still didn't seem satisfied, and it wasn't until the two of them were preparing their soul lights that Bolin managed to get the story out of her. She explained that she felt like everything she had was because of her dad. He was the famous one, the inventive one; she just happened to be his daughter.

"I just don't feel like I've achieved anything myself," Asami sighed, fixing the candle into the little boat.

"Well, that's just ridiculous," Bolin said bluntly.

Her eyes widened from behind the slits of her mask. "Excuse me?"

Bolin gripped her by the shoulders. "Asami, you're an amazing woman. You know how to drive better than most of Republic City put together, can kick some serious revolutionary butt, and you're part of Team Avatar. If those aren't achievements then I don't know what is!"

She chuckled, soft and feminine and nothing at all like Korra's loud, unrestrained laugh. "Thanks, Bolin. You're a good friend."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Hey, it's the truth. Even Pabu agrees. Right, Pabu?"

The fire ferret made a chirruping sound of agreement.

Asami laughed again and then held up the tiny boat in her hands. "Well, our soul light is finished. Now we just need to light the candle, right?"

Bolin nodded and then froze. "Uh-oh."

"What?"

"I forgot to bring spark rocks."

She placed a hand on her hip. "I thought you said the prayer sending was the most important part of the festival."

"It is," he groaned, "but Mako has always come with me before, and he's a—"

"Firebender," Asami finished with a sigh. "Well, what do we do?"

Bolin held up one finger. "Hold on a sec."

He dashed off without a further word and ran back to where an old man wearing a plain mask was handing out soul light boats. A minute later he was back with spark rocks—and out of breath.

"Alright," Bolin said, taking the boat and creating a spark to ignite the wick. Light bloomed forth in an orange flame, warm and full of energy.

"It's pretty," Asami observed.

Bolin simply offered her the other side of the boat. "Ready to help the lost souls find their way home?"

She nodded and knelt beside him. Together, they placed the little boat into the water and watched it get carried by the current to join the hundreds of other soul lights floating on the dark surface. It was like looking at an upside down starry sky, only these stars were flickers of orange and reds. Asami was right: it really was pretty.

Bolin turned his face to look at the woman beside him. The mask hid her expression, but it didn't matter. He could tell by the quiet stance of her body that she was happy. Seeing her enjoyment made the corners of his mouth tilt upwards. Asami was nothing like Korra; she wouldn't have burping competitions with him or slurp her food so loudly that neighbouring tables would glare. Asami was graceful and refined—the complete opposite of him. But she was also his friend, and he realised that he had really had fun tonight.

"Thanks for coming with me tonight," he said softly. "It means a lot."

"It was certainly an experience," she admitted, "but I'm glad I came. You were right: these festivals are fun."

Bolin raised his mask and grinned. "Happy Wànshèngjié, Asami."

"Happy Wànshèngjié," she echoed, lifting her own mask.

Bolin was still smiling when he returned home.

Prompt: Write an AtLA or LoK fic based around Halloween. Bonus points if you can work in different Halloween traditions for each of the nations, or, in the case of Republic City in LoK, some kind of blend of the different traditions. Any pairing goes - fanon or canon - or you can feature no pairing at all. Modern AU is allowed.