THE DATE
Ogon slides his feet and sticks his arms out diagonally, half-crouching with one leg. He takes a deep breath and begins to spin and shift his arms, turning on his heel every few steps. Moving in a semicircular pattern, his robes blow gently in the rooftop wind as he dances. At the end of the form, he tilts his torso sideways and punches his fists sideways, releasing a massive jet of flames.
Suro gently claps his good hand against the undamaged top of his limp one as Ogon stands up straight and dusts himself off. As the morning sun continues to beat down upon the roof, the older man begins to lecture.
"You see, Suro, there are many techniques for summoning flames without using emotion. This specific move that I just showed you is an ancient form based off of the original firebenders. Legend says one of your past lives and the Firelord learned this dance to end the Hundred Year War."
"Would you have to do the whole dance to firebend?"
"Not necessarily, however it does teach you how energy may flow throughout your body. Then, when the need comes, you can retrace the motions within yourself and release the energy that you hold without relying on feelings."
"I'm going to try the technique."
"Don't be too hasty, Suro. It's not about copying, it's about understanding," Ogon warns.
"How can I understand it if I don't try it?"
"Good point. See for yourself, then."
Suro retraces the flowing steps that Ogon made and begins to shift around, fulfilling the motion as best as he can with one hand. He spins on his heels and arcs around to complete the form, then punches forward with his right arm, releasing a small flame. It chokes out soon after it first flares up.
Suro looks at Ogon, who stands there with crossed arms and raised eyebrows.
"Not as easy as it looks, is it?"
"Could you show me the right way to perform the dance?"
"Not yet. Before you do that, you must sever your reliance on emotion. Show me the basic fighting techniques we've been going over. Demonstrate them to me as best you can using whatever focus you wish to use."
Suro tucks his ring and pinky finger in and stands straight. He half-crouches and diagonally points his hand, then slowly brings his arm around to cross over his left shoulder. Suro draws his arm straight to his chest, then back straight behind his right shoulder. Balling his hand, he inhales, thinks of Araji, and punches forward.
A healthy jet of flame emerges from his fist.
Suro repeats a different variation of a punch, this time with a block. While he attempts thinking of Araji, his upcoming date with Ritika enters his mind. The flame this time emerges just as bright to Suro's surprise.
Deciding to test his theory, Suro alternates between fragments of thought about the two girls while he completes the entire set of forms. Equally impressive flames come through with every punch and kick. Ogon watches his pupil proudly from the side, flickering flames reflecting off of his deep sienna irises.
"You seem to have found a knack for firebending. What do you think is causing the spark? Is it your mission, or perhaps a girl?"
Ogon's tone seems to imply that he has caught on to something. Suro thinks about his response and remains silent.
"So it is a girl?" Ogon continues to ask.
"..."
Suro fidgets in place. Reading Suro's body language, Ogon corrects himself in a confused tone,
"Girls?"
His student makes an unsure smirk.
"Suro, tread carefully. As your firebending instructor, I know when you're playing with fire."
"Is it really wrong to rely on emotions?"
"Yes. It is unfortunate that you have found yourself in such a situation."
"Will I be able to firebend without it?"
"That depends. If you get caught between passions, you may find difficulty in associating the art with anything other than that emotion. Often enough rage and passion are the two main triggers of fire. You must learn to separate emotion from the act of releasing the energy from your body. Every point of your being has the potential to release the energy which circles throughout. Once you differentiate anger and passion from energy, you will be able to wield fire without relying on emotion."
Suro takes a deep breath and forces a fist out, this time emptying his mind. The fire comes out as a weak exhale of embers, dying out rapidly in the gentle wind.
"Let's go through the basic forms again, but this time refrain from using passion in place of focus."
Disappointing Ogon would be like disappointing his own father. Suro taps into his emotion as he runs through the exercises again, turning his feelings into fire as the guilt burns within.
"Excellent work, Suro. You've managed to make the switch early. Keep going like this and we'll be able to move on to higher-level techniques. Perhaps even the dance you're so eager to learn."
Suro distracts himself from the gnawing disappointment and thinks about the outing with Ritika.
"Do you happen to know where Spirit Street Sandwich Shop is?" Suro asks absentmindedly, losing himself in a daydream.
"Ahanai took me there as a joke once. Some new youngster joint if I remember correctly. Why, you want to go there?"
"Girls..." Suro mumbles and trails off into his wandering thoughts.
Before he leaves, Suro mentions his need for some transportation. Ogon scratches his beard.
"Why would you need a car?"
"I'm actually looking for one for my roommate. If you're worried about the money, I'm good for it."
"Hmph. I think I might know where to get one. Don't worry about paying me, though."
"You sure?"
"Don't sweat it, I got a guy. Check back tomorrow," Ogon confirms.
The subway ride to the cafe was short and quick.
Suro approaches the spacious joint, clad in the nice, long-sleeved white sweater shirt and black dress pants with suspenders that Araji forced on him. Suro considered telling her where he was going, but decided against it in the spirit of the happy outing the previous evening. He wouldn't want Araji to think of him differently.
Waitresses in brown aprons with white, frilly smocks glide around behind a wide pane of storefront glass. They carry platters with fruit-shaped drinks and kick frequently to speed up, briefly flashing wide-bottomed boot heels with two rows of wheels. Behind the window resides a counter with young customers enjoying beverages.
The doors to the store are wooden and painted bright blue, as to give off a faux-antique feel. Above the door frame sits a white sign with blue borders and lacy script that reads: 'Spirit Street Sandwich Shop'. An angular chalkboard sign stands beside the entrance; prices for numerous kinds of food are listed, many Suro had never seen before. Small buns and breads are drawn in orange and yellow chalk around the price listings.
Suro pulls the tab on the door, triggering a smooth saxophone riff from a speaker. Music bounces off his indifferent ears as he searches for his date. Within a moment, he spots her sitting alone at a booth that surrounds a small wooden table. Her outfit has changed since the first time he saw her. Suro stands there, absorbed in her stunning appearance.
The previous bun that was done up all atop the crown of her head is gone, the scrunchy and folded pleat hair replaced by a blue-bow bound tail of hair and wavy brown locks flow out, ending promptly at the shoulder. She wears a light blue high-bosomed dress that parts below the upper chest, and around the inside of the generously-spaced collar is a thin white fur lining.
Beneath the part in the dress, Suro can see a cyan t-shirt with a spray-painted design of a heart containing a sunset. Dark blue jeans come out tightly from underneath the shirt and overlaid dress partitions, ending in white socks and sneakers. Her neck and her arms are mostly bare, the exception to this being black fabric gloves that begin with a white fur line shortly below the elbow.
Otherwise, her figure is much more defined than when she wore the parka, as her features come across as thin, but subtly toned. While looking across her neck, Suro notices the scar that she showed him peeking out from under the thin connective strip of the dress, although barely.
She couldn't hide it, but only he could see it.
The young woman spots him and waves. She greets him with her soft voice.
"Hi Suro."
"Hey, Ritika."
"Those are some neat clothes," she compliments.
"Thanks."
Guess Araji was right in making him wear these then.
"You look nice as well," he compliments her back, and feels as though he is severely understating.
"Thank you," she replies.
Looking around, Suro sees that all of the other young occupants have similarly well-composed outfits. But none of them could compare to Ritika's.
As Suro sits down, Ritika continues, "So, what do you think about this place?"
He replies with the first thought that comes to mind as he glances at a passing waitress:
"What's with the wheel-shoes?"
Ritika giggles, "You mean the roller skates? It's some new hip trend for cafes. Interesting, isn't it?"
"Are they dangerous?"
"Haha. You should try it, it's not as impossible as it looks."
"I don't think I'd have very good balance," he replies, shaking his left shoulder
"I promise you'll get used to it. In any case, I hope you have fewer qualms about the food."
"Speaking of which, what's it like?"
"This place is known for its Rou-Jia-Mou."
"Rou J-wha?"
"Basically meat-stuffed bread that's fried. More commonly known as a type of specialty sandwich."
"Tasty."
"Oh you won't believe it until you try it," she insists.
"You eat here a lot?"
"Yes, my friends from work take me here often. Ooh, there's the waitress, hang on a minute," she says, then turns to a passing waitress.
Spiritualist Satisfied Solely by Same Spirit Street Sandwich Shop. Hehe. Suro imagines saying that five times fast.
Suro distracts himself for a moment as Ritika orders. The music playing over the ceiling radios turns into a jaunty pop song with a doo-whopping intro. Much to Suro's surprise, it transitions smoothly into a riffing electric mandolin and bass sitar duo with the vocals as backdrop. Some lyrics about love play as Suro focuses back on his date.
"Thank you," Ritika says and turns back to Suro.
"Do you listen to music?" Suro asks.
"Mostly my grandma's old records. The classics hold up pretty well today. Ever heard 'Spin Away' by the Droplets?
"No, sorry. I don't listen to music much myself. I was just curious because I heard a new song playing on the radio just now."
Ritika perks her ears up and brushes her wide ponytail out of the way. It only takes a second before she speaks up:
"This song's half a decade old. You haven't heard it before?" she asks.
"I'm new in the Republic. Where I came from... I didn't have much of a chance to listen to music."
Ritika's blue eyes light up. "Cargo ship?"
"Empire refugee camp." Suro states plainly.
"Oh."
"You grew up on a cargo ship?"
"Not a cargo ship exactly, but I thought asking if you've ever lived on a floating ice palace would have been a bit of a leap."
"You've lived in a palace?"
She purses her lips and tenses a little, as if remembering that she shouldn't have said something. Ritika reluctantly elaborates:
"This is always the hard part of introducing myself," she says, sighing, "I'm an ice princess by birth. But please, don't think of me any differently. I've lived in the city for most of my life so I consider myself just a regular girl."
What in the world is that?
"What's an ice princess?" Suro asks bluntly.
"You don't know? Oh, thank gosh. I'd like to keep it that way."
He should ask Araji later. On second thought, maybe not.
"I wouldn't mind doing so," Suro reassures her.
In a grateful and almost exasperated tone, Ritika replies, "Thank you for not holding it against me. Most people just latch onto that fact about me and can't seem to let go."
"We all have a past," Suro dishes out sagely.
"If it's not too personal, may I ask what's in yours?"
"Just small time country life in the Empire. I can read and write, but that's all I really know."
"Do you know what you like? I mean like colors and foods, things like that."
"Color?"
Suro thinks back to the jacket in the display window.
"Grey- I guess."
"Mine's sky blue."
Suro nods to her clothing. "I'd say that's fitting,"
With a smile, Ritika responds, "You'd be right. So, what else do you like?"
"Flamie dogs."
She giggles. "What?"
"They're good," Suro tries to plead convincingly. "Oh- noodles. Those are good too."
"You seem to like noodles a lot."
"Girls seem to like buying them for me."
"Oh, stop it. Or I might make you pay for your food," she jokes.
"I can pay for myself if you like," he says and begins reaching for his pocket where several hundred notes sit.
"It would be rude for a gentlewoman not to take care of her date. I did ask you out first after all."
Can't argue with that.
He lets his hand come to rest back on the table.
"Then, thank you, dear madame."
"Calling a girl 'madame' is weird. I mean- getting called madame feels weird."
"Why's that?"
"It makes me feel old."
"But you're young and pretty, so why feel bad?" Suro blurts out without thinking.
"Aww, thank you."
"I didn't mean-"
"No, it's nice to compliment girls," Ritika addresses Suro's mounting fluster just in time for the waitress to arrive with the tray of food.
The worker places two white plates with one brown steaming bread concoction apiece on the table. Each is about two fists in size.
Suro and Ritika thank the waitress and are left with their food. Suro pulls the plate to himself and pauses before he can begin eating. He observes Ritika utter a short prayer before starting on her dish.
"Thank you forefathers and spirits for this meal."
Uhh…
"You can eat," Ritika explains.
She slides her gloves off, then lifts the bread ball off of the plate and takes a small, dainty bite. Suro waits for her to finish the first mouthful before he starts.
No need to be rude, just follow her example.
Suro takes one large, slow bite of his meal, making sure to chew slowly and swallow only when she swallows. As the pair begin to make their way into their sandwiches, it becomes painfully apparent to Suro how slowly Ritika is eating hers. He begins to count her bites and approximates that every five of her small bites takes a chunk roughly equal to one of his mouthfuls. Devising a plan, Suro takes a bite every third that Ritika takes, swallowing by the time she finishes every fifth.
To Suro's agony, she pauses to take a napkin off of the table and gently dab her lips before continuing. The oils and rich meat flavors grow lost on Suro as every mouthful cools and turns to starchy mush in his mouth.
In such a fashion, the pair eventually finishes their sandwiches. Ritika wipes her mouth one last time as her date wallows quietly in despair at the lost opportunity to enjoy the meal normally.
She smiles and speaks up, "You didn't have to wait for me, Suro."
"It wouldn't have been rude?"
"Of course not, silly. Suro, you're something else, you know that?" she jokes.
Suro blushes as she puts her hand on his. She continues:
"Don't worry so much. There's no need to stress yourself out over every detail. I won't mind. You're sweet, so just be yourself."
"I don't know too much about myself."
"That's not true, you know what you like, right?"
"In that case… I like you."
"I like you too Suro."
They gaze into each other's eyes for a moment before Ritika speaks.
"Anyway, you're new in town?" she asks, wiping her hands.
"Yeah, I've only been here for about a week and a half. So music, TeleVarrick- it's all new to me."
Ritika slides her gloves back on. "I have so much to show you, that is if you're willing to come with me."
"For sure."
Suro smiles, his chest feeling warm.
Suro and Ritika leave the cafe with sated stomachs and head towards the subway. Ritika takes the opportunity during the long subway ride to ask Suro about his bending.
"So you're an earthbender?" Ritika asks.
Not wanting to make himself known, Suro decides on sticking to her preconception.
"Yeah, I am. I'm still learning though, so I'm nothing impressive."
"No need to belittle yourself."
"I'm being honest. I just started learning."
"But you've had the ability since you were born, right? So you would be able to know how to feel it out naturally."
That's true. It's not just confidence that will help him in a battle. He has an inherent advantage no matter how someone puts it. Not just in one element either. And what about the avatar state? That's an extra layer of advantage that no one else could have…
...Except for Zolo.
Suro needs to meet him somehow. Regardless, Ritika's expecting a response by now.
Suro speaks up, "You're right. I never really thought about that."
"Don't doubt yourself. I have a feeling you can do more than we know," she assures him.
What does she mean by that?
She adds, "Here's our stop, Suro. Now let me show you how dangerous it really is to roller skate."
After leaving the station, Ritika takes Suro to the roller rink a few blocks down. Inside, Ritika helps Suro rent a pair of skates at the counter and takes him out into the rink. Suro slips and spins around under her careful guidance and hand-holding until he demonstrates some semblance of individual balance. From there, he takes cautious steps and begins to roll on his own.
Ritika laughs at Suro's jerky movements.
"Aww, you're like a falcon-hawk hatchling trying to fly."
"I don't think I can-whoah- fly on-aagh- wheels," he responds, wobbling around and flailing his arms.
"You'll get the hang of it some day."
"I'm trying Ritika, but it's just not work-ack!"
He falls over and Ritika dives to catch him, summoning an ice handhold. She grabs him under his arms and settles him down onto the rink.
"Easy there."
She helps him up, sliding her arms forward around his chest to lift him. When they stand together, she doesn't let go, and they keep still. Her embrace warms him, and he quietly whispers to the girl resting her chin on his shoulder.
"Ritika-"
"Take a hint, Suro," she whispers back and leans into the nape of his neck with her cheek.
"I was going to say thanks."
Agreeing to meet at Ritika's workplace later that week, the couple went their separate ways. Suro made his way back to the apartment as the mid-evening sky hangs over the city. As he walks in, he sees Araji standing in the center of the room in a meditative pose.
She wears a dark olive-green jumpsuit. Her defined features show through the smooth material. Two lime green lines run curving over her chest and combine at the waist, splitting at the thighs and running in two sections down along their inner regions. Also equipped is her baton, clipped onto the same belt that Suro always sees her leaving for the academy with. Her outfit terminates bluntly in black police academy boots.
Araji comes alive and snaps out of her posture.
"Hey."
Taking Ritika's advice, Suro decides to note, "Nice jumpsuit, you look really good in it."
"I went to my uncle today-Wait. What's with the compliments? Are you getting weird on me?"
"No, not at all, just trying to let you know you it fits you well."
Maybe some girls don't like compliments then...
She makes an awkward expression. "Well, whatever... So anyway, Suro, you ready?"
"For what?"
"We're going on a hunt tonight, remember?"
"But the car's only coming tomorrow."
"Do you think crime waits?"
"It doesn't."
"Then you know that we need to stop him."
Suro's voice grows cold. "I do."
Bao Zhin... He defeated Araji. He defeated Suro.
That crook is going down.
Araji speaks, "Let's go to the gym for our warmup first, then we'll come up with a plan."
Suro changes into his jacket and shorts, then the duo leaves.
Over the course of the last week, Suro had been growing more familiar with earthbending under Araji's supervision through a series of spars. Once more, it is time for Suro to face his rival.
And he wants to win.
Suro stands twenty feet directly opposite from his sparring partner in a rectangular arena sunken into the ground. The rock walls of the arena steeply decline from ground level. His partner adjusts her magnetic belt and eyes his rhythmically rising and falling chest.
She runs her hand through her black hair. "Suro, you ready?"
"Yeah."
"Okay then," she cautions, "Begin."
She puts up her guard, taking a solid defensive stance, and waits for Suro's first move. Thinking back to their first spar and the several subsequent ones at the gym, Suro remembers that her pattern is generally collected yet aggressive.
That shouldn't determine the match, though. The playing field is much larger than that small dirt lot by more than threefold and much more open than the last few spars, so there's no advantage afforded to him by the setting. In fact, he may even have some kind of disadvantage since his opponent now has much more maneuvering room.
Suro raises his guard.
He feints a rock column in front of his opponent. Araji jumps back, slinging rocks at Suro. Seeing her get close to the wall, Suro rips blunt extrusions to catch Araji from behind. She leaps backwards, over and onto them, then kicks forward, breaking sections off and sending them at Suro.
He performs a defensive turn on his heel, bringing up a semicircular dirt wall in an attempt to absorb the attack. Despite the effort, the rock chunks break through the flimsy barrier and force him back. Imitating Suro's own attack, Araji rips a wide slab from the wall behind Suro and throws it towards him. Suro ducks and chops his hands through the rock, separating chunks from the pillars.
The rocks land at his squatting feet and he knees one chunk forward at ground level, while launching the other one at an acute angle into the air. Sliding out from the overhang and leaping upwards, he shatters the airborne rock into a dust cloud, attempting to disorientate his opponent. Araji bounds forward and strikes at Suro's legs without hesitation. He feels brief, numbing impacts along his knees and fudges the landing, forcing him to execute a clunky and heavy roll into the ground.
Wasting no time, his opponent grabs him under his good arm and wrenches it behind his back, almost to the breaking point. She pushes his face into the ground, stretching his shoulders between the two opposing forces.
"Tap out, Suro."
He struggles to move his legs, wanting to kick them up and strike back. They only shudder and go limp. Suro complies, attempting to pat the ground with his other hand, then remembers the situation.
"I'm trying, but I only have one arm."
Araji loosens the grip and lets his arm fall to the ground, where he taps several times in emphasis.
"Sorry," she pants in retort.
"What did you do to me when I was in the air? You haven't done that in any of our previous rounds."
"I blocked your flow of chi. Neat, right?"
"You aren't going easy on me anymore?"
"I've showed you that you could handle yourself at a higher level. So now you have to catch up."
Araji tosses a lock of hair over her shoulder, basking in the artificial yellow floodlights of the gym and her little achievement of victory. She extends her arm out to Suro.
"Rematch, best of three?"
Suro nods and takes her hand, helping himself up. The competitors move back to their starting positions, immediately bringing up their stances. Araji bounces on the tips of her feet while Suro takes a flat-footed posture. He begins the next bout.
Suro heel-stomps a wave of rock at Araji and jumps aboard. He catches himself into a careful balance, feeling the dips and bumps of the burrowing rock and rolling stone beneath his feet.
Strike, but at a distance. Those chi-blocking strikes can only serve to cut the round short and result in an Araji victory.
Suro watches his sparring partner closely as she remains unmoving. As the rock wave and rider close within little more than a couple of stride lengths, Araji swipes her arms upward and forward, reversing the direction of the rock flow and sending Suro toppling off. He makes a split-second hip movement to fall over onto his right side and catches into a slightly more fluid and effective roll.
Already an improvement.
Araji closes in to deliver another rapid succession of jabs, but Suro rips a rock restraint out from under her left ankle. As she stumbles, he rips a second one to catch under her left foot, then swipes a flat palm once left then right. This pulls her down into a split, but before Suro can come through with a knockout blow, Araji digs into the ground and breaks her restraints.
She props up onto her hands and slams her legs together, throwing a shockwave of rock at Suro. Caught mid-blow, Suro finds himself in the air, and without a moment's notice Araji jumps up with him. She throws a few hasty swings at Suro, who blocks as they land and backroll away from each other. Suro attempts to replicate her maneuver, and so the second of lag causes him to vault backwards over his shoulder and sprawl onto his chest.
His sparring partner locks down his arms and legs in stone stockades and the dust settles. Suro taps at the dirt arena and the restraints fall through the ground.
"You really need to teach me some of those chi-blocking attacks," Suro notes.
"And how to roll," Araji tacks on.
"That too."
"I mean, unless you like getting hurt."
"I don't," he reassures to a cheeky eye roll from Araji.
She helps him up once more and claps her hands clean, releasing a small cloud of dust.
"Let's get right into some rolls."
Sore yet ready for more, Suro stands around as Araji taps her foot on the ground. Hand under her chin, she hums while lost in thought.
Suro juts in, "Think of anything yet?"
"No, Suro."
"We need a plan," Suro urges.
"Well, I thought I'd come up with one by the time we finished training."
"What about those banks you checked out?" Suro asks.
"I looked through the recent activity and crimes at banks, but something doesn't add up."
"How so?"
"He hits the big banks, but he also hits some smaller targets throughout the poorer areas of the city," Araji explains.
"Makes sense, considering how the two banks we encountered him at were small fries."
"So, let's take a look at the map again."
Araji moves over to the counter, where she slides a laminated map out from underneath a stack of reports and records. She flattens it out and motions for Suro to come over. There are large red circles in marker in the main areas of the city with smaller red crosses throughout the districts.
"Been looking this over since I picked it up. See, I told you so. He's hit every big bank in every district," Araji explains.
Suro scans the map. He notices that one of the districts is missing a red circle around one of the highlighted banks.
"What about this big one? It hasn't been hit yet," he points out, finger tapping the map.
"I considered it, but picture this. We're not going to outsmart the police. They probably have massive amounts of security on those as we speak, so I doubt Bao Zhin'll hit that one."
"So you think they'd have considered that and tried to secure the smaller banks too, right?"
"Mhm. There's a small one that hasn't been hit yet in the Jade District."
"Where?"
"Right here," she taps the map. "It's a smaller branch of a bigger bank somewhere outside of Republic City."
"So you don't think the police will set up shop there?"
"I'm not sure. I couldn't find out anything about what's going on with that. I'm still a student and I'll need a couple of years of training and work before I get to even listen in on that type of information. We could take a gamble though…"
"Leaving it up to chance on what basis?"
"We could try and choose to set up our own watch at a likely target and hope that he strikes there."
"Good idea. The big banks are all out for starters. Then, I don't think he'll hit the smaller banks on the peninsula. There's too much heat there for him already. I bet the caper he pulled on your watch was his last in that area. Look at how far down it was," Suro elaborates.
"Wait, Suro, you might be onto something with that."
"Is there a chronological order or pattern to these crimes?"
"I think so. He hits all the big banks first, then goes for the smaller banks in that area."
"So since he's already plastered the major districts with robberies, the only district left should be Jade."
"And Brimstone," Araji adds. "It's the name for the area that contains Dragon Flats. Anyway, I think he's going to hit the new Jade bank though. It's not too tempting of a target and it would be the smartest choice. I doubt the police would put any guards there."
"I think we should case Dragon Flats. Is there a bank there?"
"Yeah, but it's not on the map because it just opened. It's far, though. Do you think we'd even be able to get there in time?"
"I'd think the police would want to stay away from that part of town."
"Hmm. So what do we do?"
"We have to make a choice, and we have to make it fast," Suro states.
Araji closes her eyes and resumes tapping her foot, this time much faster than before.
"You sure about your gut feeling?
His gut tells him that his guess is right, so Suro needs to believe in himself. He gathers the courage to stand ground behind his opinion.
"Dragon Flats."
"Alright then. We need to move fast."
They pat themselves down, securing their clothes and pockets. As their wandering eyes meet in nervous looks, they both calm. They turn from each other and cough awkwardly, though the both of them wear a smile.
The door slams shut as they rush out to the train station.