Skootchy lay on the ground, focusing intently on not moving. He was lounging around behind an abandoned shell of a house in the poorer area of the city, trying to kill some time before he went to the middle of town at closing hour, when people were trying to get home. He knew that people worked long days in the middle of the city, and they would be tired after; the only thought in their heads would be to make it home before they collapsed from exhaustion. And Skootchy knew they worked hard for their money, but the truth was that they were still better off with the money they got from working than he with his pickpocketing.
Perhaps he would be lucky today and would find some rich, aristocratic business people strutting through the crowd like they own all they see. Maybe they do. Maybe they'd be fat. Fat people never noticed when you plucked something off them.
Skootchy almost smiled at his train of thought, it was so poorly prioritized. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, thinking about the business people, thinking about the money he could get, not thinking of the girl, not thinking of how he cried, not thinking about it. He was not thinking about it.
Spirits! Skootchy sat up straight, exasperated. He hung his head in his hands and wondered why, out of all the people in the whole universe, why he constantly saw this one girl everywhere. Briefly, he reflected that he might be going crazy, but soon banished the thought. He couldn't be going crazy; other people went crazy, but not him. How could something like that happen to him? Resignedly, Skootchy got to his feet and walked to the edge of the yard. He jumped the fencing barring the backyard from the front, then walked to the front of the house. The child squinted towards the clocktower, the building that could be seen from all over the city to tell the residents the time and sighed when he learned that he still had three hours to go. Skootchy turned an eye to the run down, abandoned rubbish-heap of a building that he made his home in.
He wondered if he could open the door this time, before remembering that the door was cemented shut by eons of dried mud and fungus causing the wood of the door to melt into the wood of the frame. Skootchy shook his head and took a running start, jumped up and clutched the windowsill of a shattered window. He had to get his hands on just the right pane or he would cut himself on glass shards. He still hadn't forced himself to clean up the place. He let out a breath as he pulled himself up and opened the window, and clambered inside.
Skootchy crept across the floor, staying away from the weak spots where water had rotten the supports away. He had to get to the first floor, where things were a bit less hazardous. As always, he stood at the top of the staircase, wondering if he trusted the house enough to take them, before shaking his head and vaulting over the bannister. Skootchy landed lightly on his feet, stood and made his way to the dining room. It was not an ideal place to rest, but it was the cleanest, safest, and it had the window where daylight shone in the most.
Skootchy stood in the center of the room, knowing that he didn't really have anything of importance to do, and so sat down in the rectangular box of sunlight illuminating the room. He inclined his face towards the roof, so his neck and chest were din direct sunlight, but he was looking at the water stains on the ceiling. He chewed at his lip, trying hard not to think about her, but thinking about her anyway.
He went back to the second time they had met, when he had tossed a clod of dirt into the water.
She had looked so shocked, for a second. Mako too, but Skootchy didn't really take in Mako's facial expression. He had been too busy watching her face. She was so focused on the patterns on the side of the fountain; why did she care about it so much? Spirits, she was studying them like they held the key to the universe or something! Skootchy hadn't known what he was doing, he had just done it. Without a moment's notice the clod of dirt was out of his hand and the deed was already done.
He hadn't known why he did it; maybe he had just wanted to see what would happen? Skootchy sighed again and blew the air up at his bangs. Doing this reminded him of her wind, and he was consumed by his embarrassment again. Why had he started crying? God, Skootch, why did you cry? Now she thinks you're a crybaby and a useless piece of street-trash. Skootchy reflected on that; he had never really crushed on anyone before.
He had liked girls before, sure, but he had never really cared enough to do anything about it, and now all of a sudden this airbending girl struts along and he finds himself doing things without even thinking about it? This was stupid, it was stupid and dumb and childish and annoying and dangerous. What if her father found out? What if he hunts Skootchy down? What then? Skootch had heard what happens to people down in the jails, he had listened to the men talk about people that were lost to the police force, about rogues and thieves like him and how terrible, awful things happen in the prison cells below Republic City.
Skootchy clutched his sides and lay down, staring at nothing. No, he decided, it was bad to like people like her, let alone like people in general. He allowed himself to think about, fine, but no more tears. And certainly nothing else to do with her, either.
…
Skootchy sat on the stoops of a small bar. It was early in the evening, but people were already partying, or still partying, in some cases. The building was dimly lit, as bars tend to go, so nobody noticed how raggedy the boy looked. This benefitted Skootchy greatly, as he was free to scrutinize the crowd without fear of anyone chasing him away.
He was just about to leap into the thrush of bodies after a particularly weary looking man when he caught a glimpse of red out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head for a second, before diverting his attention back to the man. Spirits! He had lost him. Skootchy sat there, feeling a bit like a lion-vulture that had just lost its prey. He turned his head again towards the offending object, eyes widening for a moment when he realized what- or who- it was.
Several buildings away, sitting in the middle of the staircase leading up to city hall, was the girl he…liked. Skootchy blinked repeatedly and bit his lip in a mixture of nervousness, fear, and agitation. Oh why did she have to be here, and of all times, now? He shook his head to clear the panic-ridden thoughts.
No, he could just find somewhere else to pickpocket. Skootchy didn't need to stay. The stations would be open around town; people would be boarding busses and trains all sorts of things now, in order to get home. Yeah, he could just thieve people over there.
Stootchy stood up, nodding to the bouncer (he didn't nod back) and turned to leave when he heard someone scream. When he turned his head, the sight of several chi-blockers surrounding and entrapping her made his blood run cold.
