"A-K-I-R-A. Akira. Come on, my bright little spirit, you can do it. Just feel the brush you slide it across the paper. Remember, as you create each brushstroke, you create your whole identity."

"I can't do it Momma. Writing is too hard!" I cried. I threw the cup of ink to the floor in frustration. It splattered across the wooden boards of our home, making a mess. Momma sighed and fetched a rag to clean the mess.

"Akira, that was expensive ink. I got it just for you to learn to write. Wasting money like that is not good, you know," Momma explained. She finished wiping the mess and gently wiped away the tears from my eyes with her thumb. "Akira, you have to try. You can't just give up."

"Why not?" I whimpered, feeling ashamed that I couldn't even write my own name.

"Because, it's easy to give up; it's hard to keep trying. But in the end, what makes us stronger?" Momma asked.

"To keep trying?" I answered, unsure of myself.

"Yes, bright spirit. Now will you try one more time? For me?" Momma requested.

"Alright, I'll try Momma!" I giggled. I focused on the paper, and held the brush tight in my fingers, dipping it into the small amount of ink that was left. Biting my lip, I swept the brush across the paper, concentrating on the characters that made up my name. A. K. I. R. A. Akira.

"Oh, Akira, that's beautiful!" Momma enthused. "The brushstrokes are wonderful, so bright and bold. Just like you," she said, pinching my cheeks and giving me her signature Eskimo kiss.

I laughed lightheartedly.

"Momma, why did you name me 'Akira?'" I wondered, cocking my head to the left as I awaited her answer. She threw her head back and laughed. I loved her laugh. Most women's laughs were high pitched and squeaky and restricted. But Momma, her laugh was deep and long and free.

"It means bright. And from the day you were born, I knew you were going to be the brightest light in my life," she said lovingly, stroking my cheek with the back of her pointer finger. I took her finger in my hand; it was so much larger than my small, toddler hands.

"How did you know that I was going to be the brightest thing in your life?" I asked.

"I suppose it was fate, Akira," she replied.

"Fate?" The term was alien to my four year old self.

"It controls everything in the entire world. It will always find a way. And I thank fate every day for giving me you," Momma said.

"I love you Momma," I said, pulling her closer for a hug.

"I love you too, my spirit" she answered, hugging me and giving me a kiss on the cheek.

We were happy. We didn't have much, but we were happy. I loved my mother very much; she was the center of my world. I always tried to make her happy, no matter what. But sometimes, I saw the other little boys and girls holding their poppa's hand.

Poppa.

The memories I had of my poppa felt like dreams.

The kind of dreams that leave only a wisp of substance behind to remember them by.

I could recall only two things about Poppa.

One of them was his scent. Poppa had smelled like musk. I hated that smell. Maybe that's why I remembered it so well.

The other one was his eyes. Unlike Momma's and mine, which were big and pale grey, Poppa's eyes had been small and dark brown, like hazel. I thought brown eyes were beautiful.

But that was all. I couldn't remember how the rest of his face looked like or how his voice sounded or how tall he was or anything else. As a child, I found myself missing him when I saw other little kids like me with their poppas. So I decided to confront Momma about the matter.

"Momma, what happened to Poppa?" I asked.

Her eyes welled up with tears, but she quickly blinked them away.

"Daddy died a long time ago, my sweet. He…He's no more. But, Sho, he would have been so proud of you, Akira," she stated, smiling a sad smile. "Come now, let's eat dinner."

Sho. The name was short and powerful; it was a name of substance, a name of strength. I liked the way it sounded. I wished I knew more about him; we didn't even have any pictures. Nevertheless, I followed my mother to go eat.

We didn't have much to eat, considering Momma didn't make much money. She owned a laundry shop in the Dragon Flats borough of Republic City, and our apartment was situated right above the shop. It wasn't much; just a small little area with one bedroom and one cot right smack in the middle where we both slept. Outside the bedroom, there were some mats where we sat, and a table which had a hotplate which we cooked our food on. There was an old wooden box where we both kept whatever clothes we had in, and of course, a toilet and a shower, although the water was freezing cold. Mold grew on the walls of where we lived, so Momma made sure all the clothes that needed to be kept clean were kept downstairs in the shop. It was painful, seeing my mother work so hard. I wished she was a waterbender so life could be a bit easier for her. Sometimes, I helped her, but most of the time, she wouldn't let me. I really admired how strong she was.

So usually, we had rice, but on special days, like my birthday, Momma saved all her yuans, and we had meat and noodles. Those were the best days.

I admired how strong Momma was. Of course, sometimes I wondered why we had to work so hard, why we weren't benders, but then again, it was just fate, wasn't it?

Life was going good. I grew up fine; Momma homeschooled me, since we couldn't afford school. She never let me play outside, since the Triple Threats were rampant around our area. But other than that, everything was perfect; just Momma and I having the time of our lives by ourselves. We ate together, laughed together, and played together. I loved it when she told me her wonderful stories about the spirits, and how they watch over everyone. My favorite spirit was Yue, the moon spirit. I thought she was the most beautiful, graceful, and generous spirit in the entire world. I liked to imagine she was watching over me.

Other times, Momma and I would play hide and seek. I didn't like to seek, so she always searched for me. And when she found me, she would tickle me half-to-death.

"Stop Momma!" I said, giggling.

"No way, my bright spirit!" she answered as she continued to tickle me.

Both our laughter pervaded the room, giving the atmosphere such a wonderful feeling.

Spirits, I couldn't ask for anything more. I had everything I needed.