Book 2: Katara

Two Months After the Fire Lord Fell

Katara wakes up alone. The space around her is perfectly dark, and completely silent. She pauses for a moment, her straining to hear anything in the night. With her blanket clutched to her chest, she reaches out into the cold air, feeling the space around her. "Sokka!" Katara calls out. "Aang!"

She hears running nearby, and the door to the room bursts open. "What's wrong?" Sokka asks. His hair is frizzy, falling out of his ponytail, and he is wearing only the loincloth he sleeps in. Despite his sleepy state, his boomerang is raised in his hand, ready to fight whatever had caused his sister to scream. Their father arrives behind him a moment later, and gently guides the boomerang down, whispering "hush" to Sokka.

"You are okay," her father says. He crosses the room, taking a seat at the end of Katara's bed. "What troubles you?"

Katara takes a deep breath, calming herself. "It was so quiet," Katara admits. "I don't - I'm not sure why -"

Her father nods, stroking his daughter's hair. "It happens to all of us. Sometimes, coming home is just as hard as the war itself."

Sokka nods in agreement. "When I wake up in the middle of the night, I'm so used to hearing you, Aang, and Toph just being around me. Breathing or snoring… when that's not there, I always think something is wrong."

"It gets better." Her father promises. He kisses her forehead.

As days pass, it does not get better. Katara wakes every night. Sokka begins to sleep in the room, lying on the floor just next to her. She wakes, and she hears him breathing. It's over, she reminds herself. The people you love are safe. You are home.

Home is different now though. They stay in Gran Gran's house, and around them their small village becomes a city. Every day, boats bring more people to their shore. Pakku, her old Water Bending Master from the North, lives with them as well. He and Gran Gran are happy together - as happy as anyone could with so much change.

Katara goes to the harbor in the morning to watch the men coming off the ships. The air is cold, but Katara is no stranger to that. Still, the warm nights in the Fire Nation are so fresh in her mind that the air stings her face. Her fingers feel numb beneath her mittens, and the fog of her breath is strange to see again. She exhales, watching the cloud of breath fade. She wants to smile, remembering how familiar she had been with her own breath before. Only a year ago, it was normal to watch that tiny cloud fade. She does not smile. Instead, she stands alone to watch the ships come in.

The brow of each ship is extended onto mainland, and men begin to step off. Katara looks at the emotionless faces of the men. She recognizes most of them, having grown up with these men all around her before they left for the war. Most are her father's age, late thirties or early forties. Some are younger than that. They look older, though. They've seen too much of the world to be young anymore. The men shuffle towards their families, accepting the embrace of their wife or children. Then with slow, small steps, they begin to make their way home.

A month after the ships stop coming, families try to return to normal. No one knows normal though; there is no one in the Southern Water Tribe who has known any life other than the war. It's now three months since the war ended, and Katara makes it a routine to stop by the market for fresh fish each afternoon. It helps to have something to do every day. With a basket full of her purchases, she hears laughing children. Following the sound, she finds four young kids in the town square. They throw snow into a pile, attempting to shape a snowman. Only a year ago, those same children spent their days training to be soldiers, ready to fight the fire nation. Now the children worked as a team, carrying a giant snowball over to be the middle of the snowman's body.

"It's nice to see children being children." Pakku was standing beside her. Katara didn't reply. They stood together, watching silently.

"You got more fish," Pakku says, looking in her basket. "They look good. But Katara, you can do more than cook fish, you know. Look around you, the world is healing. It's time you heal too."

"I am fine," Katara replies. "Just… waiting for Aang to come back."

"The Avatar will be busy for quite some time, I imagine. What will you do now, until he returns?"

"I don't know," Katara says. "I think I'm needed here, helping to rebuild our home. I'm just not sure how yet."

"Have you thought about training Waterbenders?" Pakku suggests.

"But I'm the only Waterbender in the South Pole."

Pakku nods. "You were. But the war is over, which means those who fled, those who hid - they will be returning. Many of them haven't had any training at all. They will need a teacher."

"Aren't you a waterbending teacher?" Katara asked.

"I am retired," Pakku said. "And you are, by far, the best student I ever had, Katara. You should consider it."