This has to be the longest thing I have ever written, and it took ages. But I'm so happy with it!

I was tempted to post this as a separate story as well (just for fun :P) but I'm not sure if I need to.

So, this is to make up for the last two drabble chapters. Enjoy! (oh, and just so you know, this is an AU)

Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar.

#25 - Strangers

She ran, increasing her pace to get away from the place she called home for 17 years. Cars, fences and trees sped past her in a blur as she continued to run, not daring to look back. She didn't care what happened anymore, didn't care whether they noticed she was gone or not. All she wanted was to get away from that place.

From all the memories.

Eventually, as her legs began to give way, she dragged herself across the cobbled pathways of a small park and settled herself on a bench beneath a tree. The overhanging branches were bare and glittered with frost. Mounds of snow were visible around her, melting in the faint winter sunlight. They glistened proudly, but she didn't notice. She didn't want to. All she could think about was the news she had received but a few minutes ago.

'Why do these things always happen to me?' She thought. 'Mother left me so many years ago…and just when someone was beginning to fill the void - she had to be taken too! It's not fair…'

She sobbed, burying her face in her hands as tears began to slide down her cheeks. 'I don't deserve this - I've never done anything wrong in my entire life!' she cried.

She continued to cry for a few minutes, not caring that she was in public, and that people were watching her. After letting out her emotions, she collected herself and wiped away her tears. Then, lifting herself off the bench, she walked calmly out of the park. Once she was outside, she looked around to see where she was. This area was not very familiar to her – she had been running for quite a long time and for quite a distance too.

Just then, her azure eyes fell upon a quaint coffee shop nestled between some buildings. It looked old fashioned and quite cozy. She rubbed her arms, suddenly realizing how cold it was, and began to make her way towards it.

'I could use a cup of coffee in this weather,' she mused. 'And it might make me feel a little better.'

----------

The shop was much larger than it looked from outside. The décor was very traditional – there was a serving counter with glass cases displaying little cakes and other pastries. Old newspaper cuttings in frames hung on the walls and antique fans clung to the ceilings, making the whole place seem like a flash from the past. Little wooden tables sat here and there, each surrounded by a few chairs. She took a seat at a table in the far corner of the room, where she could be alone with her thoughts, and no one would notice her.

Or so she thought.

Once she had ordered a cup of coffee (and a small chocolate muffin), she sat back in her chair and stared up at the ceiling. She was so lost in thought that she didn't notice someone approaching her table.

This 'someone' had been observing her ever since she had sat down at the corner table. Watching from his place leaning against the wall near the doorway, he had noticed something off about her ever since she entered. After considering the situation, he decided to confront her.

She was still staring at the ceiling when a soft 'ahem' snapped her out of her thoughts. She lowered her head only to see a young man standing in front of her table. He wore a faded sweatshirt and jeans that seemed too big for him. His gray eyes peeked out from underneath a mop of messy black hair. He was smiling faintly.

"Excuse me…may I?" he asked politely, gesturing towards the empty chair opposite her. She didn't reply for a few moments; lost in his gaze. Only when he coughed again did she realize what she was doing. Blushing faintly, she muttered a quick 'sure, whatever' before looking away from him.

Although she didn't see it, his grin grew slightly wider. He replied with a soft 'thank you' and took a seat upon the chair, now reaching her eye level. However, she wasn't looking at him – she was focusing on her hands now clasped together in her lap.

There was an awkward moment of silence before he decided to speak.

"So…what's your name…?"

She glanced up at him again. He was still watching her intently.

"…it's Katara." she replied finally.

"Katara," he repeated. "That's a, uh, nice name."

She offered him a small grin before returning her gaze to her lap.

Another moment of silence.

Eventually, he heaved a sigh. 'I have to ask her sooner or later…'

"Okay, I know this might sound awkward coming from someone you've never met before, but, uh, there's I think there's something bothering you."

She didn't reply, so he continued.

"I noticed when you entered and I wondered if you'd, um, like to talk about it or something. Because…sometimes the best way to stop something from bothering you is to talk to someone about it. Right?" he finished.

No response.

"You can talk to me if you want to. Sometimes strangers can be the best people to talk to."

Still no response.

He sighed again. He had to help her somehow. Suddenly, an idea hit him.

"How about I tell you a story?" he offered.

She looked up once again. There was a sparkle in his eyes that she hadn't noticed before. She finally decided to go along with it and nodded. He grinned.

"This is a story about a young boy," he began. "He had everything he ever wanted – a big house, all the things he could ever want and more, and people who loved him."

He paused to study her reaction. She was listening intently, head propped up on her arms as she watched him, waiting to hear more.

"He was a good kid," he continued. "He always behaved, never got into fights, and most of all, he appreciated life. Everything was fine until he turned five. Then, his whole life changed."

His eyes darkened, and he lowered his gaze to the table top.

"One night, there was a fire in his house. No one knew how it started, but it was destroying the whole place. The boy's grandfather managed to find him in time and they both got out safely, but no one else did."

He looked up again and Katara saw a different emotion in his eyes.

"His parents didn't survive. And the whole house was burnt down. He lost everything that night."

"Well, almost everything." He added as an afterthought, smiling faintly. "The kid still had his grandpa. And now, although they knew that a life of hardship now awaited them, they weren't scared. Because they knew that had each other."

The young man stopped narrating. Katara watched him. He seemed a little sad. But somehow, she got the feeling that the story wasn't over.

"Go on," she urged him.

He started up again. "A kind hotel owner gave them a place to stay, and in return, the boy worked for him – setting tables, waiting on people, stuff like that. His grandfather was already pretty old though. He passed away a few years later, when his grandson turned ten."

Another expression of sadness covered his face, but he continued.

"The boy was all alone now. A street child with no one to go to. But no matter how bad his life seemed to be, he always looked at the positive side. A lot of people who visited the hotel noticed this aspect in him and began to talk to him about their problems. No matter how harsh the troubles were, he always saw a positive side. He could cheer anyone up."

"Soon, everyone in the hotel, as well as everyone living in the same block knew about him. They called him the 'sunshine boy'. The kid who could brighten up anyone's day."

She continued to watch him. He had now resorted to staring at the table again, but now a small smile graced his features.

"He had another talent too – he was an artist. One day, when he was drawing during his lunch break, a rich man came up to him, looked at his works, and bought one of them for a large sum of money. He was overjoyed. He decided to make art a source of income, and was successful."

He stopped again, and this time it looked like he was done.

"That was a wonderful story," she stated truthfully. "Is it true?" He nodded.

"So…where is he now?"

"He still lives on the same block, which, incidentally, happens to be the one we're on now. Still drawing and selling his works for a living…"

"Oh."

They were finally silent again, but at least this time, it wasn't awkward.

"I'd like to meet him sometime," Katara said after a few moments. "Would you introduce me to him?"

Before he could respond, a waitress, who seemed to be in her mid-30s, came up to their table. She served Katara her coffee and snack. Just before leaving the table, she suddenly noticed the boy sitting there.

"Hey, Sunshine! It's been a while since you visited. Happy birthday, by the way."

He perked up immediately. "Cara! You remembered!

"I could never forget you, kid. Gimme a sec, I'll be right back with an espresso." "On the house." she added with a smile.

As she walked away, Katara's eyes widened. No, it couldn't be…

"Wait," she began uncertainly, "She called you…you're…that boy…"

He cut her off, smirking lightly. "The name's Aang." He extended an arm over the table and she hesitantly reached over and shook it gently. "I'm an artist."

She shook her head. "No way…"

He smiled before pulling something out of a duffel bag he had carried along with him. He handed it to her. It was a sketchbook containing impressive sketches of people and structures. Katara marveled at the detail he had put into each picture.

She looked up for a moment. "Aang, these are amazing!" He murmured a small 'thank you' in response.

"But, how can you always be so cheerful?" she asked him. "You've lost so much…anyone would expect you to be depressed."

"I know," he replied. "But I always remind myself that life goes on. You can't dwell on things that have already happened, Katara. You'll never move forward that way."

She nodded solemnly.

"…my grandmother." She said sadly. "That's why I've been so down. I received news that she died today, in hospital. She was very ill."

Her hand, which was now resting on the table, was suddenly covered by another larger, slightly rough one. Her head shot up and she stared at him in surprise. He merely smiled.

"I'm sorry," he said in a tone that convinced her that he truly was. "You must be devastated." She nodded again.

"But still. Try to think of the positive side. At least she won't be suffering any more. And she must be in a much better place than in a musty old hospital."

Katara smiled at him.

She continued to look through his scrapbook, even when his espresso arrived. As he was sipping it slowly, he noticed that she had stopped on a particular page.

'This one is beautiful," she commented. It was a picture of an impression of the South Pole at night time, with Eskimos living in tents and igloos. The sky was littered with brilliant stars and a full moon shone brightly over the village, coating it in an ethereal glow.

He placed his mug down for a moment, and then gently took the book from her. He carefully tore the page out of it and handed the painting to her.

"What? No! I can't! It's your painting! You must've worked so hard on it!" she exclaimed, although somewhat tempted.

"I want you to have it," he said lightly. "As something to remember me by."

Her eyes moved from the picture to his face, which was covered with an expression of pure happiness. His eyes twinkled as he pushed the paper into her hands.

She accepted it and regarded it carefully again, noticing the intricate detail.

Aang gulped down the last of his coffee and sighed in contentment. Then, he slowly got up from his seat and grabbed his bag.

"Well, I should get going now. It's getting late and I should be back at the hotel to help set up for dinner."

He turned to walk away when she suddenly grabbed his arm, causing him to stop.

"Wait!" she cried. "Will I…do you think we'll meet again?"

"Of course. If you ever need someone to talk to, you'll know where to find me." He grinned.

She let go and sat down again, but not before whispering a quiet 'thank you' that only he could have heard.

"Anytime." He replied, just as quietly, before walking towards the door and opening it, making his exit.

Katara looked down at her hands, now clasped together. She smiled to herself.

"Maybe strangers are the best people to talk to after all."

There ya go! Some Kataang friendship for you! I'm sorry I couldn't make it more fluffy, but that's about all I could handle with this fic - it is a little sad after all.

Please review! I'd love to hear your opinion!