"Okay this boring," Sokka huffed, slumping in his chair. Across from him, Yung folded his arms, leaning on the wall.

The two of them were cramped in the small hallway that served as Healer Ikka's waiting room. The healer, a short woman a few years older than Sokka, had taken one look at Mai, blandly informed them that it would cost extra on account of the fact that she'd be losing a lot of sleep, and had Yung carefully earthbend Mai back to the pokey little apartment that she apparently used as a clinic. Then she'd shut herself in a room with Mai and sternly told the two of them to get out of the way.

That had been hours ago. Now the sun was creeping through the narrow window, birds were chirping, the sounds of the city were filling the background, and Sokka's foot had entirely gone to sleep, while the rest of him had remained distressingly awake.

"I need to walk," Sokka declared, pushing himself up before stumbling on his numb foot and almost falling back again. "I'm going to go find breakfast, want anything?"

Yung shook his head.

"Okay, just keep an eye on things here? I'll be back soon."

Stepping out into the frigid morning, Sokka couldn't repress a shudder as the stiff wind hit him.

That was just embarrassing. He'd definitely been away from the South Pole too long if Omashu Winters were enough to get him shivering. Katara would definitely be laughing at him if she ever found out about this one.

Okay, so, hideous stain on his national pride aside, he could really do with a coat.

Healer Ikka scowled, as she applied her hand to the wound again.

People, in her experience, took water healing for granted. They thought all she had to do was hold her hand in a bowl, stick it on the injury, watch the glow for a while, and then collect the money. They didn't think about the effort involved in knitting muscle together, or holding veins in place. When she tried to explain marrow customers just made a face. And then they acted like she was overcharging them, because as far as they knew, all she'd done was stick her hand on the affected area for a while.

Speaking of which, she wondered who was going to be paying her for this one. The Earth Kingdom soldier was probably out, so that just left The Famous Sokka (travelling companion of Avatar Aang, warrior of the Southern Tribes, sometime lover to Princess Yue) or the Fire Nation girl.

Which presented Ikka with something of a conundrum. She had a (hitherto entirely theoretical) policy of providing discounts to anyone that had been involved in saving the world from the Fire Nation, but she also had a strict, and much more rigorously followed, policy of applying a Fire Nation tax. It wasn't extortion, she was pretty sure. It was just ...reparations. She told herself she'd stop once she'd accrued enough to afford a house that was as nice as the one that had been flattened in the siege of the North.

"Have you got one in blue? I feel it would look better in blue."

The tailor waved expansively around his shop, at the various coats, hats, and shirts, all decidedly in Earth Kingdom colours.

Sokka sighed. "Fine. It'll do," he said, with bad grace.

It wasn't, he conceded, as he pulled the sleeve over his arm, a bad coat- it was long, and well-made, and had deep pockets. It was just that tan wasn't really his colour.

Ikka nodded, as the girl's eyes creaked open.

It was a little impressive how she went through confusion to panic to violence within less than a second. It was a good thing Ikka had taken precautions.

"Your knives are in the other room. You can have them back if you're a good patient, and don't try to attack me."

The girl glowered, ungratefully, but settled back down, trying to conceal a wince.

Oh yes.

"Thank you. Now, this might be an easy question, but tell me: where does it hurt?"

Sokka stepped out into the weak winter sunshine, and set off in search of breakfast. He set his shoulders, cramming his fists into the pockets of his new coat, and strode out, trying to get a feel for the city.

This part of Omashu was three bad words away from a war zone. Piles of debris, irregular cracks in the street itself, the occasional smashed building sticking out like a missing tooth, the scars of the city's recent past were raw and obvious. Old men set up market stalls, flashing old wounds while young people tried to hide new ones.

Overhead, cargo shuttles rattled on long stone rails, carrying goods from higher up the hill down to the warehouses on the outer edge of the city, perched above the canyon. Wealth surrounded this part of the city, above, below, and overhead, not once settling on the streets themselves. This was the place where the refugees, the immigrants, the unwanted were sent, and you could feel the tension in the air, everyone aware of their place on the ladder, and working hard to make sure nobody else climbed up ahead of them.

And beyond it all, there was a killer. Sokka had a list, from Yung- thirteen names. Ten missing, three found, though not talking even if they wanted to. Thirteen murders, and nobody wanted to know.

This wasn't a city. This was a tundra, full of a thousand invisible dangers. But he was the only hunter with a long enough spear to… to…

Sokka tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes, and shook his head, picking up the pace, coat flapping about his calves. He really needed to get something to eat.

Ikka blinked heavily, and stifled a yawn as she reached for the vials. Fumbling for what she was looking for, she poured a generous dose into a small cup, and turned back to the bed, where her patient was fixing her with a glare that could melt a glacier.

"Here," Ikka said, maintaining a front of professionalism in the face of this base lack of gratitude. "Drink this."

The girl took the cup, but made no move to drink it. Ikka rolled her eyes.

"I've spent the last six hours making sure you didn't die. I'm not going to poison you now. It's a pain relief medicine."

The girl scowled at the cup, but drank in one swallow.

Ikka reflected that sometimes this job was not worth it at all.

The tea shop was small and pokey, but it had seats and served hot things Sokka could put in his face, so it ticked all the relevant boxes.

As he sipped his tea and waited for food to arrive, he fished the list Yung had given him out of his pocket, and studied it again.

It made for pretty grim reading. Thirteen names, a few dates, in the few cases when it was actually known when the person had vanished, and a little five-word summary of each victim's existence. Like, say, Wen, the first victim to be found- he'd been a fish merchant who'd moved to Omashu following the disastrous initial attempts to clear the colonies. Lived in the poor quarter, sold fish. Someone found him in an alley with his throat cut last Spring. Some of the victims got less than that. The Sun family, all three of them, just vanished one day, leaving all their stuff behind, and that was everything Sokka knew about that. It was a real testament to how seriously the previous investigators had been taking the case, Sokka thought, sourly.

At the bottom of the list (Jing, waitress, vanished walking home from work two weeks ago) Sokka idly scribbled a fresh entry.

Mai (that one)- found stabbed in alley near warehouse district. Not dead. Occupation: idle rich, former Fire Nation military. In Omashu for reasons unknown.

He sighed, and massaged his temples. This was a real mess he'd gotten handed. 'Hey Sokka want to solve a bunch of murders? The city guard don't care but you're not busy, right?' Still, he guessed he shouldn't complain. At least this way he was out of the way, and being at least a little useful.

When Sokka made it back to the clinic, he was confronted with the sight of Captain Yung trying, and very nearly failing, not to laugh.

"She's awake," he explained, to Sokka's unasked question.

Alright. Some good news. But that didn't explain why Yung had suddenly realised what a sense of humour was for. Shaking his head, Sokka headed for the door to the main room.

The healer stepped out of it before he could reach it, and stopped him with an outstretched hand.

"If you're going in, a word of warning," she said, and Sokka paused. "The blood loss combined with the pain medicine's left her… a little loopy."

Well that could be… interesting. Without anything particularly clever to say, Sokka stayed quiet, and stepped past her, into the room.

The ceiling was really ugly, Mai had decided after staring at it for about ten minutes. Ugly and lumpy and cracked and beige, that was the worst thing. Earth Kingdom colours were so dismal, so bland.

How she'd ended up in this city, she had no idea. It had to be the most uninteresting place in the entire world. It was so unbearably bleak she swore she could feel herself becoming less interesting on some days. If she stayed here too long her own parents wouldn't recognise her.

No, wait, that had been the point, hadn't it? Probably. That or to get away from Zuko.

As she pondered this, pleasantly drifting along on a cloud of opiates, a door opened, and a tan smear floated into the room.

Sokka cleared his throat, as Mai blinked, owlishly, her head slowly turning to face him.

She looked… now it was morning he felt he could say it with some authority: she looked pretty bad. Her hair was long and straight but looked like it hadn't seen a brush in about a month, which clashed with his vague memory of complicated buns and a fringe you could kill a man with, and he suspected she probably had. Everything about her looked tired, like she'd spent a year on the run, or, possibly, she'd been stabbed in an alleyway last night. Either or.

Eventually, she said something.

"Heeey," she slurred, "it's you. That one… that one Ty never shut up about."

"Oh?" he squeaked.

"Yeah… yeah? Unless you're that other guy."

Sokka felt he was losing his grip on the situation. "...Which other guy?"

Mai waved a hand dismissively. "You know the one. Tall. Had hair."

Sokka frowned. "...Zuko?" he suggested, before remembering why he shouldn't.

Mai made a face. "Ugh."

This was getting off track. "Mai, I need to ask if you saw-" hang on, better check something first. "Mai, are you aware you got stabbed last night?"

Mai looked down at her bandaged torso. "Yup."

Great, now they were getting somewhere. "Did you see who did it?"

Mai's brow creased. "...Nope."

Damnit. He sighed. "Okay, so, I guess we'd better get you home? Which is..?" he prompted, and Mai gestured somewhere over her shoulder. "Fantastic. Hey, Yung!" he hollered at the corridor, and when the Captain's head appeared in the room, he continued: "you wouldn't happen to know where Mai's living in the city?"

Yung snorted. "Our wannabe-conqueror here? Of course I know where she lives. You think I would let her step into this city without knowing that?"

Sokka waved him down. "Lectures later, she's not listening. An address. She needs to sleep this off."

Ikka helped Mai to her feet, and scowled. Gesturing over to the dresser, she nodded at Sokka.

"You'd better take those for her. I don't think she should be near knives until the medicine wears off. Also I hate to sound like I'm repeating myself but am I getting paid for this?"

"Oh, good point," Sokka said, nodding. "Pay the lady, Yung."

Ikka beamed, as the big Captain scowled and reached for his purse. Well, that sorted that little dilemma.

Walking was tricky since it felt like she had more legs than usual, but eventually she found herself bundled politely into a sedan, and presently her house appeared, which was convenient.

The voice of whatsisname by her side followed her up to her door.

"This the place?" he said.

Mai nodded.

"Cool. Well, guess I'll be going? I mean… you wouldn't know where The Four Nations Hostel is?"

Mai scowled. No.

"You can stay here," she said, swaying only a little as she unlocked the door. "I have a guest room."

She didn't bother to listen for a reply before staggering off in search of a bed. Hers, preferably, but she wasn't about to be picky.