I know that there are only so many things we can do for one another, while there are infinite possibilities of things to do to one another. And, usually, we practise the latter fanatically.

Realising that people are people is one thing. Realising that each person is a person is another.

And understanding that this realisation is just that, is quite another altogether. A realisation, after all, is by definition something that was not part of our subjective reality before. At least, we did not see it. In consequence, not everyone has realised.

And not everyone who has realised actually cares. And not everyone who has realised and cares has it in the forefront of their mind every time they meet a new person.

So.

It's hard to put a line beneath all this, but, there is an end to each day, a finite number of hours, and the need to secure our existence, if we haven't tired of it already. And sometimes, even if we're tired. Sometimes especially.

Changing others… no. it neither works, nor is it appreciated. Any meaningful change must be wrought by the self. When one is ready, and when one is capable of realising what there is to incorporate it into the matrix of our single, meaningful-meaningless life. It's all there for us to realise, but sometimes we cannot. We're too trapped in what we call our lives. Trapped, caged, shackled by the dream of opulence.

Which then also means that I can live my life.

That I am part of those possible realisations. But that it is not my duty to make myself known to everyone. Quite possibly, the only way to bring about meaningful change is to lead by example.

I dream big.

I have lofty goals that only part of me believes I can achieve.

And I can break out of this sloppy imprisonment without bending. The shackles have come off the wall, now it is the door that stands in my way.

But what is this… this delay good for? What does the White Lotus gain? Why use a faulty prison? A metaphor taken too far? A delay to alert people in Ba Sing Se of my plans before I arrive? What for?

.

It ends up being too easy to get back to the garden.

And there, sitting calmly, is the old man drinking tea. Gorou and Mai have sat themselves beneath separate trees, each scowling their own frustration.

How nice of them to come looking.

How clever of them to find me.

How oddly convenient.

"So the boy has found his resolve," the old man croaks and I'd like to shove my resolve up his arse, but.

"What have you done to my bending?" it comes out as more of a growl than I intend, but fuck this guy sideways, if it's irreversible, I will kill him. Messily. There are plenty of stones around. And his friend. And I will find out if he has family and-

"It is merely a drug. It will wear off with this antidote," he gestures to a small vile beside our unfinished game of Pai Sho.

I step closer, missing my sense of where everyone is in the room acutely. "Special precautions?" I manage to bite out, thinking of the sessions with Yugoda where she taught us about recovering from poisons. I ignore the slight pang in my chest at the thought of her. She's so old, she might be dead by now. Sometimes, I regret leaving the North behind. But then I'd have had to stay to face my grief.

"None," he says and picks it up to hand to me.

After drinking it, vile tasting and foul smelling, I turn to sit beside Gorou.

"Won't the boy finish our game?"

I glance at the old man whose very existence I now loathe. "Does that get me access to your Order's agents within the city, and their information?"

"The boy has already secured them," the old man draws on his tea before looking back at the board, "It is an intriguing strategy."

He probably doesn't get to play many different opponents in Tananga. What a self-important arse. What was the point of imprisoning me, then? There aren't that many chi blockers in this world, and the one who would be dangerous for me is Circus Girl, whose animosity towards me might not be gone, but I see no reason for her to want to take my bending instead of outright killing me.

I should perhaps sit down and play, secure more favours, but we're already late as it is. And I really don't want to. I have no desire to do that. I got what I came for. And that is enough. It is enough and I am beginning to think that I need a break. A break that is not like this. Not forced. Not because someone wanted to test me. No one deserves to test me. No one has the right.

Just as I don't, either.

I don't have a reward for the passing of tests I set anyway. But knowing you did well is its own reward, isn't it? But for that you need a scale, you need experience, and you need acknowledgement. And that is what so much of life is about, acknowledgement.

This whole thing smells so badly of the kind of political machinations I wouldn't want any part in. is Pakku involved somehow? Does my status as his former student reflect on him in a certain way here?

What I need to do, is move on.

"The next time we meet," I say, "I'll play." And until then, I'll have thought of an adequate means of revenge.

If my bending doesn't return… I will. I won't become a monster of rage. Even this man must have innocents in his circle of acquaintance and I won't chance widening the range of targets. No, it is him who deserves my retaliation, if I decide to carry it out. This doesn't have to turn into a mockery of a Vendetta. I'm not a gangster. Not yet, anyway.

Mai and Gorou have gotten up. They haven't said a word. I suppose they're angry with me. We leave the place behind, sun creeping steadily up the horizon.

"They took your bending," Mai states quietly, back on the ship.

I nod. Thanks for reminding me. Like I don't feel the lack acutely. She doesn't deserve biting comments, either. It was good of her to come looking, whatever her reasons. I might have needed rescuing.

"Apologies for delaying our schedule," is what I settle on, watching her face for any hints as to her thoughts. Surprise, displeasure. Not the apology she wanted.

"Did you know this could happen?" her tone is slightly accusatory. Is she calling me reckless?

I look away from her, to the railing. It's a bit too slack. I'll have to tighten it. Like my reign over my anger. She does not deserve the snapped answer whetting my tongue. "I… should have," I manage to admit.

She narrows her eyes. "Why go to them when you already secured the yakuza?"

Mai knows that both of my actions were risky. And she's right that I should have been as cautious with the Order as with the yakuza. I will take this as the lesson that it is. That doesn't mean lessons aren't painful, as all growth is. "It's always best to have more than one source of information."

"Do you trust them after this?"

"Of course not. Always verify," next time, beforehand. As much as possible. It was naïve of me to think I could rely so much on Pakku's tile and teachings. I might have forgotten some important things. The order might have changed since his time spent with them. So many possibilities, and as always, I know nothing.

"Then…" her head is cocked to the side, mouth a thin line.

She didn't just go. She came to look for me. I will trust. But verify. "I can't afford to spurn opportunities when they present themselves to me. But yes, I was reckless and too trusting."

Let's see where this concession takes us.

She makes for Circus Girl and her brother by the bow. And I tighten the railing.

.

People aren't usually very fun to be around. That is, they tend not to be, when they've seen and done too much shit to think of things with the distance required for humour. And if they are fun to be around, they have to put a lot of effort into it. Or you yourself have developed a darker sense of humour that relies on there being misery in this world. It's a very realistic approach.

As it is, I've managed to acquire a rather dour entourage of people who would, for the most part, rather not. Do a funny, that is.

Except for Eyebrows. It's a rare thing, to find someone so entrenched into the yakuza system who has genuinely put in the effort to be humorous. To be just a bit more approachable. It could be a strategy to present a front of leadership within the organisation that allows for all sorts of people to feel marginally represented. Sort of like a representational democracy. With less representation and more violence. Ah, even that depends on where you live.

But somehow, I doubt it. Dionu seems, for the most part, genuine. That he's found a way to be humorous in his profession at the same time as he's got the piercings shows just how normalised some things are for Dionu, while others seem too strange not to incorporate them as they are seen. It's all about what values you grow up with. What you do with them later in life when you're confronted with differing views. How well you cope.

Humour is often a strategy to guide the eye. It's not necessarily deliberate. Sometimes humour is a front to hide insecurity. I wonder what it is in Dionu's case. I'll find out, over the next few months. We'll be in close proximity, after all. The yakuza will provide us with housing in the city. Lower ring, but large enough for all of us. Every few weeks, myself and Dionu will leave the city on the boat, to keep up the front of traders. And we'll be trading. Largely in information. Or informants.

As you do.

It's not true slavery. But there's a fine line between acting to ensure your survival, where the circumstances of your station in society are being made use of, and slavery. The chicken might be considered a person's property, but not the human. But if the human does things in order to survive, doesn't have many other choices or hasn't been made aware of them…

It's a cruel world.

Not that different to where I come from, just less sanitary and a bit more magical.

I blink myself back to the present. Spacing out like that can't be good. I should meditate later.

"When you made that deal with Aunt, I hadn't expected you to make things difficult for us so soon," Dionu says in a light tone, "I mean, I thought she put the fear of her consequences in people pretty thoroughly. You're just… really odd."

It's not the words. They're not funny. It's the way he says it. Childish incomprehension coupled with haughty metal eyebrows threatening the territory of forehead just a bit too much, digging trenches. It would make me smile, if I hadn't been thinking about what constitutes as slavery seconds ago.

I give him a shrug. "Sometimes life happens to you when you're in the middle of something."

"Life happens, sure," he crosses his arms, "But it tends to happen differently to other people."

Right. I am lucky to be free enough to make my own decisions. To live by them. To see that it is possible. Because it is. There's just fewer comforts. Less baggage. Or, in my case, too much, so that lugging anything else around seems like overkill weight-training.

"It's always fun to mix things up a little. Bring excitement into the mundane routines of life and so on," I say this in a tone that makes obvious just how much bullshit I think I've just put into the air. It should be especially strange to him, since his routines probably consist of beating up the local upstarts who think it's funny to encroach upon someone else's territory. I suppose that's the problem when institutions have been there for so long that changing the status-quo seems impossible. That was called moderation once, wasn't it?

Not, that I think much of keeping territories and all that, but some things happen to be reality. That is, enough people believe it, so it must be true. It works a bit like values do.

"Mundane routines," he mutters, before raising his voice, even though it was clear that I'd be able to hear the mockery, "Anyway. Let's move out, before we get to wait for our next slot, which is next week. I'm not sure I want to be stuck on a ship with your mundane routines for that long."

"Of course," I nod and smile and give the command.

It's midday, a gentle wind that carries us with enough speed that we might even be capable of arriving on time after all. If I help us along a bit, by making the waves less choppy so they don't reduce our speed so much, no one says anything.

So ungrateful.

Gorou appears at Dionu's shoulder, startling the younger man. Dionu, grimaces a little, turning back to me, wants to continue our little lead-up conversation to what he wants to say to me.

"We should talk to the others about how Ba Sing Se's going to go," Gorou says, speaking just a beat before Dionu can. The latter snaps his mouth shut, looking torn between annoyance and aquiescence.

"Sure," I say, "At dinner? I wanted to cook for tonight."

Gorou nods. Then he doesn't leave. Sort of standing in Dionu's personal space. It's creeping him out. Ah, how nice to see my own discomfort in others. Gorou hasn't really been very good about boundaries since my small excursion into the realm of non-bending.

"Look," Dionu says to me, tense, "I'm not one for the subtle approaches."

He glances at the dangerous bender and the gesture has something of a grudging trust to it. Perhaps I should ask Gorou how well they know each other. The question is whether that would be too much of a personal question for our rather utilitarian acquaintance. Then again, bonds are forged by knowing one another. By expecting to see one another, by acting and reacting. By being vulnerable and having that risk treated appropriately. Reciprocation.

I will ask when the time feels right.

Probably never, then.

I shrug. "What is it?"

"We're not splitting up in Ba Sing Se. You made a deal with us for contacts and lodgings. I'm both, to you lot."

Not surprising. I expected something like this. "How much are you required to spy on us while we're in the city, then? And is trying to recruit us after all also part of your job description?"

He blinks. "General things. Where you go, who you talk to. And yeah, we all have standing orders to try and bind you to us more permanently."

So. I didn't actually expect him to answer. I just wanted to let him know that he doesn't have to be subtle, if I know about it. And if he's not being subtle, I don't have to pay attention as much.

Now I'll pay more attention because I can't believe that's all. Admit to a few minor things, and cover up the grand spiel. Way to go and slide down the spiral of paranoia.

Perhaps, depending on what I get up to, he plans to infiltrate those operations? Or does he mean to endear himself to me? He means for me to underestimate him, certainly. Let's see what he tries with it.

"I appreciate the warning, Dionu, but I'm not quite sure what to make of you," I tell him, turning back to look at the horizon. We're being half-honest here, the both of us, and it's making things more complicated. A lot like the politics back home in the Tribe. I might be a little rusty. Been on my own in these things for a long time. Of course, there were the others. I never travelled alone, but it was me who made the decisions. For wanting to control things, or by necessity.

Doesn't matter which, in the end. I won't stop.

"I don't expect any trust," he replies, coming to stand beside me to look out at the water. "I just think we can work together without all the posturing I usually have to deal with. You seem like the straight-forward type."

Gorou actually laughs at him. Then he leaves. Just like that.

So unhelpful.

"Sure," I say. I tend to play things close to my chest because I know that everyone always has more than one reason for doing things a certain way. And just because one of them plays into my cards nicely, doesn't mean the other is the same. Does Dionu think it'll be that easy? Is his goal to make me doubt myself and my preconceived notions of his complete allegiance to the yakuza?

Dionu seems like he desperately needs someone to be straight with him. Somewhat secure in this mad enterprise. Then again, only time will tell what he needs and what he doesn't.

"We could come to an agreement," I suggest, thinking of how badly this might bite me in the butt later, when I'll have come to rely on it as fact. But I get the feeling that Dionu's and my acquaintance will not be a passing one. Setting down some vague guidelines for behaviour might be beneficial. Negotiations then have some sort of basis.

"What kind?"

"We can make an agreement to base decisions on the mutual interest of having to live together for a while. That means non-interference in certain aspects. Making decisions with one another if it impacts the living situation. That sort of thing," it's a risky offer. It builds on mutual trust. But I could do with someone who trusts me to a measured degree. Who will rely on me somewhat, to be honest, no matter who stands behind them as a larger presence that guides every action.

"Alright," he says after a long silence. "I'll hold you to that. But I have one more question: what's your real name?"

I laugh. But it isn't an innocent thing that he asks of me. The yakuza he comes from deal with interesting spirits. Rituals. Is doesn't do well to ignore that. But if I don't tell him now, we will never even have the basis for trust. Besides, I have another name that lies half forgotten in the back of my mind. "How observant of you. I will let you know it. My name is Kaito, son of Hotaka of the Northen Watertribe. In turn, answer me this: how well do you know Gorou?"

"Kaito, then," he nods. "Gorou was the one to train my bending when I was younger."

Ah. A teacher. A vicious one, which makes Dionu far more dangerous that I first assumed. It really is fortunate that I have made agreements with the yakuza, rather than having to contend with them inside the impenetrable city. If only so that I might know who Gorou betrays me for, if he does.

Perhaps they ought to rename it. But then, we would be missing the irony and we can't have that.

.

The room is dimly lit, the oil lamp swinging gently from the ceiling as the boat rocks with the waves. The wood creaks, the ropes whine and the sails sag and billow.

Perfect time for dinner. The silence is tense. No one is touching their bowls of stew.

Well. No one but me who is now sitting down with the others. "Bon apetit."

Hiraku follows suit, glancing at the others uncertainly. Gorou rolls his eyes and begins to eat. Mai reaches out and finally we're all doing it.

Awkward doesn't even begin to cover it.

But, alright. This is what we have to get through, I suppose. "Alright. Now that we're all done, here's what I want to talk about. Ba Sing Se. What do we want to do there? Who actually wants to be there? Why are we doing it? Who are we likely to meet? Who is dangerous? What do we do when we encounter the Dai Li? How do we divide chores? What do we want from our living arrangements? How do we compromise?"

I let them digest the questions for a bit. That was a lot at once.

"What do we want? I'll begin. I want to gain access to various groups of people there who would be willing to support a stand against the Fire Nation, or even actively participate. I also want to see where the Dai Li stands on this. And, if possible, I want access to the university's library," I count those out, watching the others.

Mai knows about my Dai Li plans already. When we first spoke civilly, that was part of the conversation with the cook. She also knows my thoughts on the Fire Nation. But the library surprises her.

Circus Girl looks generally uninterested. Gorou, focussed and unsurprised. Dionu only nods. Hiraku is attentive and worried. Fon and Ebisu… they're hard to read. Peter is smiling.

"I want to be the one to engage the Dai Li," Gorou says.

Unexpected. Interesting. "Alright. We'll discuss the parameters for that in a bit."

"I want to live quietly," Mai announces. "I want time to myself and a safe environment for To- for Peter."

Circus Girl only nods.

"We can agree to keep the dangerous parts of our activities away from the place we'll live in," I say. "This would be part of our living arrangements."

"I want to learn to read," Haruto says, "And to fight."

I nod slowly. "We will find a place to train and keep in shape."

Dionu clears his throat. "I've got a place in mind."

"Alright. What about what you want to do in the city?"

"I'll honour our agreement. Beyond that, I want to have my own space and do as I like."

I nod easily. Well, it's to be expected. Then I look at Fon and Ebisu. "What about you two?"

Fon shrugs. "I don't mind helping out. Don't have any plans."

"I'll do what I want. I got a cousin in the lower ring. Might stay with him for a bit," Ebisu says. He looks at Gorou as he does, waiting for his reaction.

Gorou looks at him and gives a nod of permission like he doesn't care either way. Maybe he really doesn't. I don't know how close he was with the crew before I happened to them.

"Okay. Peter? Anything to add?"

He shakes his head.

"Now, as for who wants to be there? We have one last chance to drop anyone off somewhere on the shore. Other than that, leaving the city should be easy once we've all gotten inside."

No one says anything to that.

"Alright. My motivation is to hopefully end this war. This is why I need allies who I will be informing as many people as possible of the comet that is due to arrive in less than a year and will give firebenders a huge advantage that I don't want them to make use of to, for example, exterminate all waterbenders. Secondarily, I want to see what can be done for the millions of refugees and who profits from current conditions for cheap labour and near-slavery. Then I want to spread that knowledge. Not to mention the human trafficking. I kind of want to stop that, too, if I can."

Gorou is grinning, bloodthirsty. Ironic, for a former slave trader. Even Fon smiles. Dionu stares. Mai and Circus Girl frown. Haruto stares in wonder, even though he knows all this – and it seems like I'll have to talk to the boy about hero worship and to stop putting me on a pedestal. Peter looks smug for some reason.

Then there's silence again. Ah, no one likes to share around here. "Okay, I'll make this easy. Who is here because they see no other path right now?"

Mai, Circus Girl, Fon, Ebisu, Dionu. As expected.

"Who is here because they want to be?"

That's Gorou, Peter, Haruto and me.

"Right, so. Because I'm probably the one who'll do my own legwork, I'll be encountering Dai Li agents, citizens of all rings and professions, as well as nobles, and one or two unknowns. I'd prefer it if none of you were involved in any of that if you don't want to be on your own. So. Don't follow me when I go out because I can't guarantee anyone's safety," I pause, then: "As to the Dai Li. Leave them to Gorou and I. Try to obey any curfews if they implement them, and keep your mouths shut about the war unless you're sure the person you're speaking to isn't an informant and can keep a secret."

We'll be in a hostile suspicious environment. We'll be spied on. Informed on. I don't doubt the Dai Li will be watching us.

I let all of that settle.

Stand. "We can divide chores when we're actually in the place we'll be staying at."

Then I drift into the dim light on deck.

.

It is dusk, the tide brings us into the harbour neatly, smoothly. I don't bend. There is no need to announce what I can do to a city where secrets are currency of the highest order.

Few lanterns mark the harbour walls. Better for the city guard's eyes to know the darkness than to be blind to the shadows. Fortunately, we are not what they are looking for.

It's easy, practised, when Dionu makes the exchange with the harbour master. Simple, when our cargo is unloaded.

One of Dionu's trading associates guides us through immigrations. No questions about our intentions for our stay. They'll just be watching us to find out.