Song: Part 1

Aang leapt into the room, his feet bouncing high in the air as soft currents propelled his feet upwards.

In the room sat about a dozen women, all of them pleasantly talking amongst themselves as they did various chores. Mostly weaving pashmina capes and writing out prayers on scrolls, carefully choosing their mantras. As Aang bounded into the room, they all looked up and smiled at him, some giggling and others welcoming him.

One woman in particular he wanted to see. A young nun named Song. She was one of his favorite people in the whole world, despite the fact that he really shouldn't be choosing favorites. Still, she was kind and sweet and she really, really liked him. Aang could tell.

Song put down her scrolls and glided over to where Aang was.

"What is it, little airbender?" Song asked him.

"I'mfinallygonnagetmytattoos," Aang said.

"What?" Song asked as she picked him up and set him down on a nearby cushion.

Aang took a deep breath and began again; "I'm finally gonna get my tattoos!" He was beaming, his smile stretching from ear to ear.

"Congratulations," said Song. "Are you excited?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

Aang shook his head vigorously, up and down like he was trying to mix paint in his skull. "Stop that, stop that," Song said, putting her hands on his head. "You're going to give yourself a concussion if you keep doing that."

"I can't help it!" Aang said. "I'm just so excited. The monks are going to give me tattoos all over my body, and I'll have pretty blue arrows on my skin, and it will make me look so wonderful!" He paused, then said, "I'll look like Monk Gyatso, or like you!"

Song smiled at that. She loved this boy so much. She put a hand to his cheek and rubbed her thumb across his skin.

"Nun Song, is something wrong?" Aang asked, worried he had upset her.

"No, Aang. Nothing at all." She put her hand back in her lap and straightened on the cushion. "So, is that all you wanted to tell me?"

"No, no," Aang said. "I'll be getting my tattoos within a day or two, and the monks said that I'll have to be shaved and thoroughly cleaned. Can you help me with that?"

With those puppy dog eyes, who could say no?

"Of course," said Song, and she stood up. "Come with me."

She lead Aang to the bath houses, passing through the gardens and rivers and ponds, past the peach trees and small orchard farms, past the air ball court and the courtyard. When she finally got there, she saw two other women in the house, cleaning their feet before stepping into the sacred chambers where the statues of deities and ancient scriptures lay.

"Kowabunga," Aang said as he rushed into the shallow bath. Song smiled and rolled up her robes, taking off a few extra layers.

"Wet your hair," Song said. "It'll be easier to shave that way." He did as she asked, but not before splashing around some more. Aang dived into the water, and swam around, pretending to be a turtle shark. Song chuckled as she waded knee deep into the water.

"Aang," she said firmly, "come here and stop fidgeting."

"Rawr," Aang said, using his fingers to make pointy-looking teeth.

"Aang…"

He waded over, moving into the shallows where Song waited for him. She ran her fingers through his short black hair, and took out her blade. Carefully, she began running the knife over his scalp. Despite her calm control, she was nervous holding such a sharp instrument so close to Aang's head. He was still a child, so young and playful, still with so many years ahead of him.

She shaved the center of his head first, knowing where the arrow was going to be tattooed to his skull. From there, she began shaving the left side of his head, careful not to make him bleed. Of course, he'd be bleeding plenty when the tattooing began. That's why he had to be so clean; there was less chance of infection that way. After he got his tattoos, he'd need to be cleaned again, that time in cold water and stay in isolation for a day or two, depending on any complications.

"I'm so excited!" Aang said. He wanted to jump up and down and shake and dance, but that wasn't such a good idea with a knife to his head.

"I know you are," Song said. When she was done shaving her head, she looked Aang over. There were other parts of him that she needed to shave; his underarms and his arms and his legs. After that, he really didn't need to be so hairless again; but for this, everything had to go.

Song remembered when she was about to receive her tattoos. She wasn't as excited as he was; she was scared, nervous. She was scared she was going to get an infection, or that it would hurt so much that she would cry, or that she would be sore for days on end. She recognized that nervous feeling plenty; it was the same feeling she'd had a month before childbirth. But her tattoos had never hurt that much.

"There," Song said at last. "All done."

Aang looked over his body, examining his arms and legs and feeling his scalp over and over again. "This feels so weird," he told her.

"I know it does," Song said. She looked outside the windows to see the sun setting below the mountainous horizon. She guessed she must have spent two hours shaving Aang's hair. Now, she needed him to be squeaky-clean for tomorrow.

"I'm going to leave you now," Song told him, standing up and reaching for her robes. "There's cleansers made of mint, sandalwood, and tea tree oils. Use them in that specific order. When you are done, use the pumice stone on the bottoms of your feet. Understand?"

Aang nodded like his life depended on it.

"Good," Song said, and made to leave. Before Aang could splash back into the pool and pretend to be a turtle shark again, she gave him one last look. She never thought she could be so proud of him. She loved him with all her heart, and she would do anything for him, but it wasn't until today that she felt so proud of him. Her eyes watered, and she wiped the tears away.

Good night, my son, she thought to herself, then left him alone in the bath house.