Chapter 4 - The Truth
I visited the Royal Academy in person to officially accept the place I had been offered before I left for Republic City. Even though I had told Zuko I could turn it down, the truth was that was the last thing I wanted to do, and I figured it would strengthen my position in the argument I was anticipating with my mother if I could present my enrollment to her as a done deal. It wasn't like she had grounds to object to me making unilateral decisions.
My second return home went a lot like my first - an enthusiastic hug from Kya, a polite but sincere thank you from Tenzin for the gift I had brought him, my mother thrilled to have all her children in one place again, and Aang...well, Aang was happy to see me, too, not knowing the revelations that were coming in my wake.
Of course everyone wanted to know what I was doing now that my tour of duty was up - would I re-enlist, or go on to something else? Would I stay in the Fire Nation, or come back to Republic City for good, or, as Kya suggested, move to the Earth Kingdom for a change? I dodged the questions at first, with a cagey explanation that I had some tentative plans but didn't want to say anything until they were more firm. I met my mother's eye, and knew she realized that meant I had to talk to her first.
She found me later that night, after everyone else had gone to bed. I had gone down to the beach to walk under the stars and the nearly full moon. "Missing the sea already, sailor?" my mother joked.
"There is something about the sea," I agreed, turning away from the breaking waves to look at her. My mother was not exactly old by that point, there was only a touch of gray in her hair, but the moonlight seemed to rejuvenate her a little bit nonetheless. "But it doesn't call to me like it does to you."
My mother smiled and came closer, looping one arm through mine. "Is that your way of telling me you're done with the navy after all?"
"I am," I replied. "And I do know what I'm doing next, but before I tell anyone…" I looked back out at the sea - dark, beautiful, but deceptive, with so many secrets hidden so deep. I steeled myself, and went on. "You need to have a talk with Aang."
I waited for the argument, the tears, the rebuke. They never came. Instead my mother rested her head against my shoulder. "Can I ask what your big plans are?"
I gave a soft sigh of frustration, thinking she was avoiding the subject. But telling her would only prove my point. "I'm enrolled in the Royal Academy for the next term," I said. "I want to learn more about the spiritual side of firebending."
My mother was silent for a long time. Neither of us moved. I stood there, heart pounding. Was she just going to ignore everything, pretend nothing was wrong? Had she gotten so used to hiding that she had forgotten how to do anything else? "Say something, Mom," I begged her at last.
"Bumi," she said in a small, fragile voice. "I'm scared."
I pulled away from her, so I could look at her better. "You're scared," I repeated. She had been scared from the very beginning, ever since I was six years old, or maybe even longer. But she had never admitted it before.
She folded her arms tight over her stomach, eyes downcast, and went on, "I've always been afraid if he knew the truth, it would ruin everything. And it would be my fault."
I didn't know what to say to that. There was no way to make it better. Aang would certainly be hurt, and probably angry, and I didn't know if they would ever be able to reconcile. And it would be her fault, there was no way around that. But the deception was wrong, and had gone on long enough. "We can't keep lying to him forever," I insisted helplessly. "The only thing that could be worse than telling the truth would be living in fear of it for the rest of your life."
My mother closed her eyes. "You're right," she agreed. "You've always been right about that."
"So you'll do it?" I asked in disbelief. "You'll tell him?" I had expected her to fight me on this far more than she had.
"I'll tell him," she confirmed, then wiped at her eyes. I stepped closer to her again, and pulled her into a hug. "I didn't realize, back then," she said, wrapping her arms around my middle and holding on tight, "how one wrong choice could lead me to hurt everyone else so much."
The next day, I took Kya and Tenzin into the city. We were all eager to check out the latest craze in the United Republic: Pro-bending. The matches were still held outdoors in those days, and it was a rougher game, with fewer rules and no protective gear. Kya loved it, and I found it entertaining enough, though Tenzin complained that the benders only used basic forms to beat each other up. I think the awareness that he was one of only two airbenders in the entire world and the weight of tradition that put on his shoulders was already starting to get to him.
The three of us also paid a visit to the newly opened Museum of the Four Nations, which was more to Tenzin's liking. In the spirit of integration that the United Republic was supposed to represent, the museum divided its collection by historical era rather than by nation, telling the story of the Water Tribes, Earth Kingdom, Fire Nation, and Air Nomads as one. I was fascinated by the earlier exhibits - the unification of the Fire Islands, the Water Tribe migration to the south - but my siblings were eager to get to the exhibit about the Hundred Year War, so I obliged them and didn't tarry too long over ancient history.
At the end of the exhibit there were two bronze busts - one of Aang, his face still round and boyish as it had been when he was twelve, and the other of a teenage Zuko, newly crowned. The Avatar and the Fire Lord whose unlikely friendship had ended the war and saved the world. Kya giggled over how much the bust of Aang resembled Tenzin, and Tenzin beamed with pride at the comparison, while I hung back quietly and hoped the museum wouldn't one day have to add another exhibit about how the fragile peace came to an end with the fracturing of Aang and Zuko's friendship over my existence.
We had gotten lunch while at the Pro-bending match, though Tenzin had complained about the lack of non-meat options leaving him with few choices. To make it up to him, after we left the museum we got dinner at a vegetarian restaurant. As we headed back to the island, all three of us agreed that the egg custard tarts we'd had for dessert were the highlight of the day.
All said and done, it was an enjoyable outing. But of course, my ulterior motive for the whole thing had been to give my mother and Aang some space for the difficult conversation they needed to have. As much fun as the day had been, as soon as we got back to the house on Air Temple Island, the odd stillness of it struck me, a reminder of reality.
Telling my siblings to wait in the living room, I went and knocked on my mother's closed bedroom door. "Mom, it's me," I called through the door. "Are you…" Of course she wasn't okay, if she'd done what she had said she was going to do. "Are you in there?"
There was a muffled reply that I couldn't quite make out. I cracked the door open and peered into the dark room, where I could just see her, lying facedown on her bed. "Mom?" I called out again, softer.
She shifted, lifting her face slightly from the pillows. "Don't worry about me," she said in a feeble voice that had rather the opposite effect. "I just...I need to be alone for a while."
I didn't argue, nor did I ask questions. It was clear that she had done it. Aang knew the truth about me. I closed the door quietly, then went and told Kya and Tenzin that mom wasn't feeling well, and wanted to rest.
"Well, where's Dad?" Kya asked, just a hint of accusation in her tone. It was probably nothing more than the old resentment at Aang's frequent absences, but on this occasion it stung me. If Aang wasn't there, this time it was my fault, at least in part.
"Maybe he was called away to…" Tenzin began, the first to defend Aang as always. "To do something important," he finished vaguely.
"No," I said, pointing to where Aang's glider still rested by the door. He never left that behind, if he was going anywhere far. "He's somewhere on the island."
Kya got to her feet. "Well, I'm going to go find him," she declared.
Hastily, I stepped in front of her. "No, you stay here...in case Mom needs anything," I insisted. A plausible reason, given that she was the healer among the three of us. "I'll go look for him."
Of course, I thought as I headed out into the twilight, after my mother and then Zuko, I was probably one of the last people Aang wanted to see right now. But I felt I still had to make sure, for my siblings' sake, that he was really still around.
The air temple that gave the island its name only had three levels at that point, with a sort of temporary observation deck at its summit. That was where I found Aang, bracing himself against the wrought iron railing and staring out at the sunset, as still as his statue in the museum, except for the movement of his clothes in the slight breeze.
I said nothing, and considered quietly retreating back to the house, now that I had at least verified his whereabouts. I knew he couldn't be okay, either, and didn't see how I could possibly help. But he must have heard me come up, and somehow even without turning, he knew it was me.
"Come here, Bumi," he said, in a tone that would tolerate no argument. Reluctantly, I went and stood at the railing next to him, leaving plenty of space between us. He turned his face to me, and the first thing I noticed was that he was angry. Even on the day I had disappeared with no warning as a teenager, he hadn't been angry. I had never seen him like this before.
The second thing I noticed was that his eyes were red. He had been crying.
He didn't say anything more at first, just looked at me, hard. I shrank a little under the scrutiny. Was he looking for the resemblance, like Zuko had, finding it, asking himself how he had never noticed before? Was he wondering how I could have helped my mother lie to him for so long? The stone set fury in his face made his thoughts hard to guess.
But when he finally spoke, he asked a question I wasn't expecting. "When Kya was born, and you wanted to know if she could earthbend," he said, voice rough. "Did you already know then?"
"I didn't know...the reason why," I answered carefully. "But I've been firebending since I was six years old."
"Six years old," Aang repeated, looking back towards the horizon where the sun was sinking low. "She made you lie for her when you were six." His voice cracked on the last word.
"I'm sorry," I said, because there was nothing else to say. I had deceived him as much as my mother had, even if it hadn't been my idea.
"Do not," Aang said sharply, his grip tightening on the railing until his knuckles were white. "Do not apologize for her."
"I'm not," I replied. I knew my mother's choices were indefensible, and that if she wanted to be forgiven, she would have to be the one to ask for it. "I'm apologizing for myself."
"Why?" Aang scoffed dismissively, eyes still fixed on the sunset.
"Because I did hide this from you," I pointed out. "Because I let her get away with it." I should have pushed my mother harder, as soon as I had realized what my bending meant. I should have confronted the truth then, even though it was hard, instead of running away and letting everything fester that much longer. "Because in spite of what I knew," I said, blinking back my own tears, "I still wanted you to…"
Aang looked at me again, the harsh lines of anger smoothed from his face somewhat. "What was it you wanted from me, Bumi?"
And that question, after everything, was what made me angry. "You were the one who named me, Dad!" I shouted, and it was more than habit that made me still call him that. "You were the man I looked up to as a child, the man I wanted to make proud more than anything! You were the one who should have been there for me!"
Aang closed his eyes and hung his head, accepting my anger with far more serenity than I felt he had a right to. "Do you know what your mother told me, about the affair?" he asked, voice trembling on the last word.
"No," I snapped through clenched teeth, gripping the railing much like he had, to stop my hands from shaking. If there was one thing I still knew nothing about, it was that.
"She said it wouldn't have happened…" He took a deep breath, steadying himself. "It wouldn't have happened if I had been there for her." He opened his eyes and looked at me again, and though his anger was still apparent it was his pain that was now most obvious. "Don't apologize for wanting me to act like your father," he said. "I should have, and I'm sorry I didn't."
The tears I had been holding back escaped with a choked sob. I bent over nearly double, wracked with emotion by this apology, which I had needed to hear as much as anything my mother or Zuko could say to me. Aang let go of the railing at last, to take me in his arms. I returned the hug, and I let myself cry, while my father held me.
My mother insisted on being the one to tell Kya and Tenzin the truth as well, even though I had offered to do it. Tenzin was still so young, I realized, only nine years old. I didn't think he would fully understand. But we could hardly keep him in the dark. There were to be no more secrets in our family.
Kya took it much like Izumi had. She was furious at my mother, but not at me, and also insisted that we have a proper bending face off, though I won that match. It was the first time I had ever fought a waterbender - they were still basically unheard of in the Fire Nation - but Kya was only thirteen, and even though I suspected she would one day be as powerful a bender as my mother, she was not there yet.
"I guess this does explain some things," Kya said as she bended her water back into her waterskin when the fight was over. We were out behind the house, the ocean far below us. If we had been down on the beach, I probably wouldn't have won so easily.
"You mean like why I ran away?" I offered apologetically, rubbing the back of my neck in embarrassment.
"I mean like why Dad…" Kya frowned, capping her waterskin, and didn't finish that thought. "Do you think he ever suspected?"
Aang had spent the previous night in the guest house that was part of the Air Acolyte residence, on the other side of the island. As far as I knew, he hadn't spoken to either of my siblings yet. "No," I said with certainty. "He seemed pretty blindsided last night."
"Oh," Kya said, fiddling the cap on her water skin open and closed again. "I thought maybe, if he did…" She trailed off once more, then shrugged. "Nevermind, it's stupid." But in spite of her dismissal, whatever she was thinking was clearly bothering her.
"Kya," I said, stepping close and putting an arm around her shoulders. "It's okay. You can tell me."
Kya leaned into my side, then said softly, "It's probably wrong that I'm...a little jealous."
"Jealous?" I repeated, looking down at her. She hid her face against my shoulder. "Well, you're going to have to explain that, at least."
She mumbled something, and when I asked her to repeat it, she glared up at me. "You get another father," she said bitterly. "And if Dad suspected it about you, even a little bit, then I thought maybe he could have suspected it about me, too, and that would...explain some things." She looked down, ashamed. "Don't tell Tenzin I said that."
"Of course," I agreed. No more secrets, but some things were still personal. Aang's shortcomings as a father were not Tenzin's fault. "But maybe you should talk to Dad about it." I hugged her closer, then added softly. "He apologized to me."
Kya made a sound somewhere in between a laugh and a sob. "What is this going to be, Dump on Dad Week?" she asked sarcastically. "We all just unload everything on him at once?"
"Maybe not right away," I agreed. There probably was only so much we could put on him at once. "Sometime, though," I insisted. "Be honest with him."
If finding out I had been able to keep my firebending secret from him for years had made Aang realize how he had neglected me, he must have at least begun to realize how he had done the same to Kya. She deserved whatever amends he could make as much as I did, if not more. It was just too bad it took the worst betrayal of his life for Aang to see it.
Kya and Tenzin did spend some time together with Aang later that day, down at the beach. I stayed back at the house to keep my mother company, though this mostly involved me doing various chores while she sat quietly at the kitchen table. She would give short answers if I asked her questions, and eat if I put food in front of her, but otherwise seemed very far away.
Aang did not come back to the house. I brought his glider and some of his other things over to the Air Acolyte residence in the evening, and if the acolytes were curious about this obvious sign of discord between the Avatar and his wife, they were tactful enough not to say anything about it. Things were still awkward between Aang and I - how could they not be - but he made a point to ask me about what I planned to study at the Royal Academy, and he was the first person I told about my desire to be a fire sage someday. He seemed pleased by the idea, as much as he could be. At the very least, it gave us something to talk about.
Things did improve a little, after those first couple days. I began each day with meditation like I always had, but then I would drag Kya out of bed to help me with breakfast. My mother slept later than was usual for her, but she did speak more, and reasserted her authority over the kitchen when it was time to prepare lunch or dinner. She insisted on keeping up Kya's waterbending lessons, too, and if Kya was more motivated than ever to throw water whips and ice daggers at her, my mother was still more than capable of defending herself against her angry teenage daughter, at least when it came to bending.
But Aang still wasn't ready to speak to her directly, and I could tell neither of them felt right about using me as a go-between. I suggested to my mother that she reach out to someone she could trust - an old friend like Toph Beifong, or my Uncle Sokka, who lived in Republic City now as the Southern Water Tribe's newly appointed delegate to the Council of Nations. She protested that they were both too busy with their own lives to help her sort out her mess, but when I reminded her that I was going back to the Fire Nation soon, she promised to at least think about it.
Tenzin, for his part, avoided me for that first day after learning the truth. Perhaps it would be more fair to say he avoided everyone, staying shut up in his room and refusing to come out. He let Kya bring him a bowl of soup at one point, but other than that wouldn't acknowledge anyone. Even after, when he was coaxed back out, he spent time with Aang and Kya and even my mother, but refused to speak to me.
I made overtures throughout the rest of my stay, but it wasn't until the morning of the day I was to leave that he broke his silence. He came into my room as I was sitting at the end of my bed, meditating - the proper way, with four candles lit on the end table instead of just one, and hands open in my lap. The flames rose and fell in time with my breathing. It was the first firebending Tenzin ever saw me do.
"Do you have to go back?" he asked softly, alerting me to his presence.
I opened my eyes and turned to see him standing awkwardly by the door, looking miserable. After the cold shoulder I had gotten, I hadn't expected him to want me to stay. "Yeah, I do," I said gently, snuffing out the candles with a wave of my hand and turning to sit on the edge of the bed, feet on the floor. "But school will let me come back to visit more often than the navy."
"Why?" Tenzin asked.
I didn't understand the question. "Why am I going back to school?" I guessed at his meaning.
"Why are you going back to the Fire Nation?" he clarified, frowning. "Why did you choose them over us?"
"Tenzin," I said gently. "That's not what this is about." For all my own resentment, I could never choose between the two sides of myself, between being Izumi's brother or his and Kya's. Both were part of who I was.
But Tenzin, in his childish logic, was not convinced. "You ran away so you could be a firebender," he accused me. "Then you left us to join the Fire Navy, and now you're doing it again because you want to go to some fancy Fire Nation school." He blinked at me, bottom lip quivering. "Are we not good enough for you?"
"No, that's not it at all," I insisted, holding out my arms. "Come here." To my relief, Tenzin practically ran into the hug. "You're the only little brother I've got, Tenzin."
"But Kya's not your only sister," he protested against my shoulder.
"Well, yeah," I admitted, then squeezed him tighter. "Lucky you, you don't have to share."
He didn't laugh, but then Tenzin seldom did. He was such a serious child. "You promise you'll come back?" he asked softly. "And not just in two years?"
"I promise," I said. "I was never running away from you."
I said the rest of my goodbyes piecemeal - first Aang, then Kya, and finally my mother walked me down to the dock to catch the midday ferry to the city, where I would board a ship for the Fire Nation capital.
"We are going to miss you," my mother said as we walked, her arm looped through mine. "Especially now."
"You said you'd think about talking to someone," I reminded her. Whether it was Toph, or Sokka, or even one of the acolytes, she and Aang definitely needed someone to help them work through this. "And I'll come visit in between terms, and...well, it will be easier for me to write, now," I added. I didn't say, now that I don't have to lie, but she knew what I meant.
We came around a bend in the path, and the dock came into view. The ferry was visible out on the bay, making its way towards us, but still far off. "Won't it be hard for you at school, though?" my mother asked. "You'll still be...hiding who your family is."
She was right, but I tried to shrug off her concern. "I'm used to that," I replied. "That's how it was in the navy, and when I studied with Master Genshi." She had done enough, in telling Aang and Kya and Tenzin, exposed herself to enough shame. I could still make that sacrifice for her.
"You shouldn't have to," she said softly, as if she had read my thoughts. "I shouldn't have ever asked you to hide any of this."
I came to an abrupt halt, causing my mother to take a few steps ahead of me. Her arm slipped out of mine, though I caught her hand. She turned back to face me. "Mom," I said carefully. "You know what it would mean? If everyone knew?" I shook my head. "Zuko already offered to...to acknowledge me as his son, publicly." Well, he hadn't explicitly offered, but I knew that had been his intent. "I told him no."
My mother looked up at me silently for a moment. She wasn't afraid anymore, nor did she look like she would cry. Perhaps she had run out of both fear and tears. "That's your decision," she said at last. "But I think you should let him." She reached up with her free hand and caressed my face. "You've already done too much lying for my sake."
The ferry sounded its horn, announcing its approach to the dock. "It's too soon," I protested. Everything was still so fragile between her and Aang, not to mention that Zuko and Aang had yet to face each other with this out in the open. I couldn't add a public scandal on top of that.
"Maybe not yet," my mother agreed with a nod. "But promise me that you will at least think about that."
I made that promise. Then I hugged her goodbye, walked down the dock alone, and boarded the ferry. As the boat pulled away, I looked back at my mother, standing alone on the dock, and watched her shrink out of sight.
