It had only been a few days.
A few days ago, he had overheard the monks' plans to separate him from Gyatso. A few days ago, he had run away on Appa, been caught up in a storm, and ended up frozen far beneath the waves.
Then, Katara had freed him from the ice, and told him that those few days had actually been a hundred years.
She'd tried to warn him. She really had. She'd also tried to protect him. Even as he'd shown them the courtyard and attempted a game of airball with Sokka, however, he'd known.
A few days ago, the temple had been lively with monks and children and sky bison and lemurs. A few days ago, Gyatso had been here, the real Gyatso, not just a statue.
When he saw the skeleton, however, surrounded by hundreds of other skeletons in Fire Nation armor, he could no longer pretend that it had only been a few days.
A hundred years ago, Monk Gyatso had been alive.
A few days ago, so had the carefree child who was now no more.