i.
.
.
[things calmed down
after yesterday's hurricane;
i liked the wind.]
.
.
The worst feeling in the world, he decides, is despair swallowing you whole; draining you completely of hope.
In the battle against the ruthless storm, Aang had lost. Forcibly dragged beneath the ocean's surface, he rotates his arms in an attempt to bend the water around him only to be pushed deeper into the treacherous waters by powerful waves as they crash down endlessly.
(at some point he became unable to differentiate the darkness of the night sky from the abyss.)
'This is it,' he thinks to himself, 'this is as far as I'm supposed to go.'
His tattooed limbs, weary and sore, no longer possess the strength needed to fight. His heart, already defeated, submerges with the weight of his body, sinking lower into the bottomless pit. 'Everyone. . . I'm sorry. I can't do it.' With one last look at what he thinks is the dark heavens, the Avatar closes his eyes and allows his own descent.
.
.
.
‹⏤they're searching for you, your beloved friends. › The gentleness of these words, perfectly in tune with such a soft sound, willed open the eyes of the air bender.
In the midst of the chaos, the water beside him stilled. When he looks to over to the side, he sees a woman, no older than nineteen, floating in the calmness. She's watching him, sage-colored hues gazing at him benevolently while awaiting his next move.
Her lips never part, though the one-hundred-and-twelve year old boy was certain this benign voice in his head belonged to her. Words couldn't explain it, he just. . . knew.
His attention is shifted to the small hollowness of her dimples that form when she smiles tenderly at him and he is bewildered; how can someone he's never met before feel so familiar?
(it's probably just avatar stuff, the young monk figures.)
Too perplexed by his own thoughts, he doesn't notice as his lungs become devoid of his own birth element and his body sinks deeper into the depths of the ocean.
She falls with him, though the idea of drowning doesn't seem to worry her. She's looking at him now with compassion in her large eyes and small hands extend themselves out towards him, trying to reach him. ‹no giving up now, avatar aang.›
⏤spirited away.
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chapter one. noodle lord ozai.
Had he not woken up on the deserted shores of the Crescent Island yesterday morning, the air nomad would have believed it to be a fever dream.
Details of the night prior to last didn't come easy to him. To his recollection, he almost drowned and during that near-death experience, he had a vision. One of a girl beneath the ocean. The following morning, when he tried to remember the sound of her voice, he found he couldn't. What had she been wearing? What happened to her after she told him he couldn't give up?
The only thing Aang was sure of were those grey-green eyes and their softness as they stared into his own orbs. The rest of her existence was no more than a disembodied whisper in his thoughts.
He had seen Roku and Yue that night, too, and spoke with them⏤though he can barely recall their conversation. He failed to provide his friends with an explanation about how he had managed to resurface, and when he thinks back, the time between talking to the previous avatar and washing up on the lonely beach was also a blur.
Since then, his mind would often wander back to that girl; just who was she? Did she survive? How did she know him?
"I wouldn't worry too much about it, Aang. I'm sure there's some weird, Avatar-y explanation for all of that." Sokka told him just before they entered the town.
(of course, when retelling the story, he'd left out yue, for sokka's sake. no need to reopen old wounds.)
Currently the Gaang was hidden behind a corner while they garnish themselves with accessories they had just purchased from a street vendor. As they clipped red appendages to their hair and necks, the airbender gives a quick tug at the knot of his headband, then quietly stuffs Momo into the vest of his uniform before turning to face his friends. "I used to visit my friend Kuzon here a hundred years ago." He says with a confident grin on his lips. "So everyone just follow my lead and stay cool."
Spinning on his heel, he starts to walk toward the bazaar, but pauses and spares a glance over his shoulder. "Or as they say in the fire nation, stay flamin'."
.
.
.
The benders (and Sokka) walked through the town for several minutes; weaving through the crowds and offering small, awkward bows as the Avatar greeted the citizens with strange slang.
"Fellow hotman."
"What's sizzlin'?"
"Those shoes are smokin'!"
"Excuse me, hotwoman⏤"
"Do you know where a young flame could find some smokin' food around here?"
"He's a natural." Toph remarks in a sarcastic tone. Well, no one attacked Aang... so that was good.
They continued like this until the small earthbender's feet come to a halt, stopped by a scent that has her nearly drooling. "Hey guys, let's eat here!" She points blindly in the direction where the enticing aroma was strongest. It was a restaurant called 'The Hot Spot' and on its display was something that had everyone salivating.
Almost everyone.
"Good eye, Toph!" The male sibling exclaims, patting her shoulder in passing as he moves closer to the building's doors.
"Yeah. It's total twenty-twenty vision with these bad boys." Said girl retorts while pointing to her hazy, sea-foam green orbs.
"Oh, we're going to a meat place?" The vegetarian asks dejectedly, disapproval evident on his young features. Grey hues apologetically glance over the red flesh of a dead komodo chicken that was skewered for advertisement, then shifts his eyes over to the elephant koi fish cakes.
"Come on, Aang, everyone here eats meat." Sokka says matter-of-factly before directing his attention over to a hippo cow that was eating some kind of smoked ham. "Even the meat!"
Still not feeling motivated to eat once living creatures for the first time today, he shakes his head. "You guys go ahead. I'll just get some lettuce out of the garbage."
With an agreement to meet back at the cave in two hours, and with a wave goodbye from Katara, they separated.
.
.
.
Restriction.
He recognizes this detail in the faces of the children of the fire nation. In the way they move, the way they talk amongst each other, the way they laugh beside one another but not together.
After splitting from his friends, the young monk decided to explore more of the city. He begins to feel a bit sentimental during his stroll. Just a hundred years ago, it was encouraged that people of other nations come and walk through these same alleys. But the world had changed without him, and time erased those days all those years ago⏤even though it felt like only a couple of months to him.
He found himself leisurely walking through a lively neighborhood, where elders sat together for a game of pai sho, and couples pass their friends, engaging in small talk. He observes them silently as they live their lives in this false idea of freedom.
Freedom. It was something that came so natural with his element, with him; to go wherever the wind decides, to speak whatever's on your mind, to feel what your heart wants you to.
These people were not free. They were limited in everything they did and the root of their restraint was fear⏤even if they weren't aware of it themselves. To be sold a nightmare that had been polished with fine shades of red and decorated with lies, surrounded by fire that dances beautifully; he felt sorry that he couldn't help them right then.
They have yet to experience the graceful way water swims along the skin of a waterbender, or listen to the powerful rumble as the world shifts according to an earthbender. Never has this generation seen the joy of an airbender as they soar through the clouds in the sky.
Just as Aang was readying himself to head back to the cave, a certain sound caught his attention.
A divine melody, delivered to his senses by the wind, lures him to the opposite end of the district, where a small group of people had gathered. He squeezes past tall figures, pardoning himself as he struggles his way to a spot where he could see what caused this noise.
A traditional-looking chakra drum is presented upon a silk blanket and mallets are directed around the instrument by slender fingers, then gently tapped against the steel bowl. Something about soothing tones of the small percussion resonates deep within him. Fear, guilt, shame, grief; the lullaby acknowledged all these faults in him, then forgives and embraces him lovingly.
The sound is refreshing to his chi and he is at peace. For the first time in a while, he experiences true bliss.
Everyone listening seems to be in a trance as well, watching her with admiration as the young woman before them maneuvers the drum with elegance. She's dressed in a maroon-colored kimono and keeps a small daisy tucked into the black obi around her waist. The light tone of her skin was a huge contrast to the dark hair that fell to her hips like fine silk. One could compare her to a porcelain doll.
She's sitting on a mat with her legs carefully tucked beneath her, and she exudes confidence⏤in her posture as she sits on her knees, in the way she moves without hesitation. But there is also humility in the small action of keeping her chin low and eyes closed, the small bow of her head showing inferiority to the common people around her.
The song goes on for a couple minutes, then ends with a mysterious note. Once she's done the crowd claps for her and many drop a single gold coin, or several silver pieces, into the small, wooden bowl beside her.
His own hand reaches into his pocket and feels for the shapes of silver and copper pieces. He pulls his remaining money out then moves to place them into her bowl. As he does so, he hears a small voice, one of genuine gratitude. "Thank you."
"You're welcome. That song was beautiful." Aang responds respectfully, watching as small craters form in her rosy cheeks while she smiles at him, still keeping her eyes shut.
"I'm glad you think so."
It was only after the fire nation soldiers took him away to school, as he put together a noodle version of Fire Lord Ozai, that the Avatar realized. That girl looked very familiar.
.
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[ wind. . .
at the center of it,
i found relief. ]
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note. ⏤
thank you for finishing the first chapter of spirited away. this is going to be my first fanfic ⏤ although i've read so many on this site. so please send support and any feedback you might have. i'll do my best to have chapter two out as soon as possible.
also, if you'd like to hear the song the young woman played, search for april yang's tank drum cover of pipa language on youtube. it's the most beautiful melody i think i've ever heard.
⏤ xixi.