It was a miracle: Smellerbee could read.

Sort of.

She'd finally memorized enough characters and their pronunciations when combined with other characters to actively be able to walk around Ba Sing Se and read all the signs on all the shops. Sure, there were words she stumbled over, and others she didn't quite get, but for the most part, she had it. She knew what they said.

The day she realized this, she let out a whooping call of joy in the middle of a street, unable to contain her excitement, and had run to tell Longshot, despite the fact that her lessons were continuing in the sister shop, where Iroh more often was, and Longshot continued to work in the original Jasmine Dragon.

Whatever. She'd been excited, and had to tell him.

Longshot had been at work; after he'd first cut work and Smellerbee had chewed him out for it, he hadn't skipped again. Iroh had been very understanding, and had simply asked that if he needed time away from work to just let him know.

Seriously. Iroh was the best there was out there, as far as Smellerbee was concerned. She'd been worried that he would be fired for what he'd done. But really, she should have known better; this was Iroh she was talking about. He may have once been called the Dragon of the West, but now he was just one of the nicest old men she'd ever be blessed enough to meet.

Longshot had been excited for her too, and had shown it in his usual way; a slight smile in his eyes as he kissed her on the cheek, and mussed with her hair.

Everything was going great. She could now read, and look for a job that required reading skills (and that would hopefully mean more money), and Longshot was sure to make a little more, with the more money Iroh would make with two shops. They could maybe find a large place, perhaps one with two rooms, and continue to make their life together in Ba Sing Se.

If only life ever went that smoothly for Smellerbee.

Turns out, just because a job requires reading doesn't mean that it pays more. No. It means the work is ten times more boring.

Smellerbee was able to get a job in a store that sold scrolls; scrolls full of recipes, scrolls filled with stories for kids, stories for adults, instructions for various things, and so on and so forth. Her job was to shelve said scrolls in a very particular order, and to do it very precisely. The shop had one window in the front, and that was far from the scrolls, since that would yellow the paper and fade the ink and make them worth far less. She spent her days stuck in this room full of shelves, organizing and reorganizing everything, occasionally helping a customer find what they were looking for.

It was pure hell.

Even when she was learning how to read, Smellerbee moved around, took breaks to go outside and take a walk. She needed the outdoors, needed the fresh air, she needed to move. She only got one short break while working, and it was hardly enough time to get out.

She grew more irritable. She spent all day indoors, away from the sun. By the time she was done work, it was nearly dark out, and she was tired, and would go home, to her cramped flat, to sleep and eat. Everyday it was the same thing; work, eat, sleep, repeat. And every day, it seemed like every room was constantly getting smaller, more confining.

She felt like she couldn't breathe.

Longshot had to be feeling the same way. Now, Smellerbee understood that one random day that Longshot had ditched work to go and practice archery; he'd needed it, he'd needed to go and find fresh air and space and just be who he was: an archer. Longshot was not a dish washer in some tea shop, he wasn't meant to be one.

Just as she wasn't meant to be some shelver in a tiny little shop.

"We need to get out of here."

It was night time, around the time she and Longshot usually retired to bed. But they weren't in the flat, but on the roof of their building. Smellerbee had all but refused to go inside after work, and it hadn't taken much convincing at all for her to get Longshot to join her on the roof.

Longshot looked at her questioningly.

"We need to," Smellerbee said. "I know we're supposed to be making a new life here, but…. This isn't us. We can't do this, day in and day out, Longshot. Ba Sing Se is too cramped and there are too many walls; I'm suffocating, and I know you are too." She looked at him, wanting to know his thoughts.

"I don't know where we'll go," she said, in answer to his unspoken question. "We'll figure it out. But this isn't where we're supposed to end up, and you know it."

There was silence between them for a few moments. Longshot had looked away, leaving Smellerbee with no way to know how he was thinking. And she let him think, even though she was dying to know what he thought.

Then Longshot moved, putting an arm around her and his hand on her shoulder. He gave it a gentle squeeze, and Smellerbee knew:

Before the week was out, they would be well outside of Ba Sing Se.

Yes, this is a disgustingly short chapter. I apologize. But the next one should be longer.

Also, just so everyone knows, I've added a link to my profile page, to a livejournal I just set up. I'll be putting updates regarding fanfictions and art up there, as well as maybe posting things there that are not suitable for this site. Maybe.

Please leave constructive criticisms.