Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar or anything associated with it except my fanfiction.

Happy New Year!

This chapter is my most favorite yet. Enjoy.

Edit: SO MANY ADS! WHAT HAVE THEY DONE TO THIS SITE?

Aang stared at the ceiling, counting imaginary stars on the blank canvas of wooden sky.

Well, that was what his old teacher would say whenever Aang was deep in thought. Back in his old bed. Back in his old room. Back at the Southern Air Temple, back atop the mountains, back one hundred years and one people and one culture and one nation ago. His thoughts incessantly brewed a storm in his mind whenever he went to sleep - some nights, like that night, more so than others. He peered over at his room in Ba Sing Se, a sparsely decorated room of wood, which resembled his old room in its scarcity but could not replace the nostalgic, smooth, dark stone of his nights as a naïve youth. He sighed. What a horrific ramification of war - to not just have people die, but an entire life be swept away like a forest incinerated by an overwhelming torrent of fire. He suddenly found himself blinking back tears, a stinging sensation that paled in comparison to the gaping wound on his heart. A perpetuating grief manifested itself in his chest. He missed his people and his friends... but especially Gyatso, who always cared for him and was the one thing that kept him together. Through the best of times, and the worst of times... until the times had passed, and they all were gone.

And so he winked the tears away as best he could, and wistfully counted the stars...


The night was calm. The night was quiet. The night was balmy and peaceful and everything a perfect restful night should be. Physically and tangibly, Aang reclined under a sky of tranquility, the dusklike air soothing to the senses. Off in the distance, an air bison lowed, likely a stern warning to the spirited young calves who weren't yet sympathetic to the importance of regular rest. Beyond the occasional auricular disturbance of the air temple settling down, however, there was a nothingness about the ascetic dwellings that formed a sense of sanctuary and slumber, an air that shouldn't be broken.

An air that Aang felt guilty for breaking, as his mind raced far too quickly to properly settle and rejuvenate for the upcoming day.

But Aang didn't like the anxious anticipation of tomorrow. Tomorrow only meant more work, more responsibilities, more knowledge, more burden. Nothing had seemed right after Aang was pronounced Avatar. Despite the relative seclusion of the council in delivering this news to Aang, word had dispersed more rapidly than a seed in the wind. Suddenly, Aang was distinguished, revered, even ostracized, for the mere significance of his existence (which he deemed about as important as a tiny pebble in the mountainside - that was what he was taught, after all!) and what it entailed. How were they even sure that he was the Avatar? Sure, he had learned airbending in record time, but Aang was positive that if he truly was the Avatar, he would have been able to bend the other three elements at a relatively young age as well. Not to mention they based his "potential" on his favorite toys to play with when he was little. Even to a young mind like his, the entire process seemed... skeptical at best.

He just didn't understand.

Air Nomads would go out of their way to see the Avatar for themselves. Everywhere Aang went, people flocked to him, worshiped him, bowed to him, despite only having heard of him a few days prior, let alone knowing him altogether. But the absolute worst part? The responsibility and the tedium of his duties as the supposed next Avatar. Day in, day out, studying the last of his airbending forms to properly master the very last tier of airbending. Day in, day out, sticking to an unvarying schedule of bare necessity and airbending training. And above all, there were discussions. Discussions of Aang's suitability, of his progress, of the Fire Nation, of hopes and dreams and achievements and setbacks and failures and fears. Everything, it seemed, was about the impending doom of the world that, at least to Aang, did not seem apparent at all, and absolutely no heed was given to the frightened and overwhelmed young boy who sat stock still at these meetings, hoping that everything would all turn out to be a bad dream - or at least that he could learn how to earthbend so that the earth really could swallow him up and be done with himself.

Even despite these setbacks to Aang's quality of life - not that the monks ever taught him to expect much for his life as an Air Nomad - Aang would have likely been able to endure all of this. Even the work, which he loathed beyond his years - and lifetimes, assuming the whole Avatar thing was correct. But what was the last straw to Aang's silent fortitude to his circumstances was the sudden evolution in peoples' attitudes towards him. The elder monks' curt berations to be sure, but especially that of his friends. He was no longer included in games, with "being the Avatar is an unfair advantage!" cited as the main justification for the boy's exclusion in games. And if there was anything that would cripple an airbending child, it would be exclusion from fun and alienation from peers.

Aang suffered.

And so he laid with his arms tucked underneath the pillow that supported his head, not caring that he could no longer feel his hands under a hail of icy, numbing needles, staring at the ceiling. Unsure of what he was doing in the moment, he couldn't help noticing a dispiriting parallel between the doubt in his bed and the uncertainty that plagued every active moment of his Avatar life. He hated it. He wished it had never happened.

So sullen was he, staring at the ceiling, that he didn't notice the door to his room open until a silver of light widened at his torso, and an accompanying sliver of shadow grew at its middle. Aang started, and hastily retracted his hands from under his pillow, almost feeling guilty as though leaving his hands as they were was some unforgiveable sin. However, he couldn't help but smile - albeit tiredly - at the sight of his mentor, mischievous glint in his eye, slipping into his room. His heart swelled at the obvious care and empathy of his guardian and best friend, the only person who truly seemed to care for him after his... his... promulgation. There. That word. A foreign one with too much pomp and little substance. But if it were cold, impartial, unecessarily complex words that would keep Aang from mentally shattering, then they would have to do.

"Apparently, I am not the only person struggling to sleep. How are you, Aang?"

Aang was glad that the rays of moon that penetrated the room weren't enough to discern the red color now pooling on Aang's cheeks. "I'm... alright, I guess," Aang said sheepishly. "I'm sorry about this. I know we're supposed to stick to a strict schedule, but I... kinda forgot that I was supposed to be sleeping now. Just... you know... I was... I was..." Aang rubbed his neck awkwardly. Spirits, where in the Four Nations did he pick up that habit? It was annoying and made him look like he lacked the grace of an airbender.

"Counting the stars up in the sky?" Gyatso asked.

Aang thought he detected something in his mentor's voice, but at the moment he was too relieved for an excuse to take due note of it. "Y-yeah! That's it! I was counting up the stars! Up there... on the..." Aang pointed enthusiastically up towards the ceiling before realizing his mistake. "Oh... uh..."

He might as well have been cooked by a firebender's flame. But Gyatso's laugh - and the ridiculousness of the situation Aang had mired himself within - caused him to laugh abashedly alongside Gyatso. And when they finally subsided, Aang noticed that he wasn't feeling as down or as lethargical as before.

"Tee-hee. Keeping you on your toes is quite the arduous process, but it's well worth the entertainment." Gyatso chuckled once more, and then became slightly more solemn. "So what has been bothering you, old friend?" Gyatso asked affectionately.

Aang sighed. "Well... to be honest... this Avatar stuff just stresses me out."

"'Stresses you out,'" Gyatso parroted. "I never knew that. Never would I have ever expected you to be kept up in the night by being stressed out by Avatar stuff."

Aang glared at Gyatso. "Big help, you."

Gyatso sobered up. "In all seriousness though, Aang, I'm not quite sure what to say or how to help you. It's just like bending the air. One cannot simply bend all the air there is in the entire world - not at once at least. But even so you can bend the air around you, even so you can elucidate what exactly is bothering you. So may I ask as a friend from two lifetimes, since it is Avatar affairs that trouble you, Aang, what exactly is keeping you up?

Aang hung his head. "I... I guess... I'm just in denial. It's so hard to believe that little old me who always gets in trouble for flinging fruit pies -"

"- Cakes. They're cakes."

Aang pouted at Gyatso. "Pies."

"Cakes."

"Pies."

"Cakes."

"Listen. They're pies. That's what everyone else calls them, and that's the word used by the elders to punish me for our small 'activities together.' And since I take the fall for both of us, I say that those are fruit pies."

Gyatso shrugged. "And I do thank you for making that little sacrifice for me, Aang. But in that same vein of logic, I'm the one that makes those delicious confectioneries, so they are cakes. But goodness me! My apologies for digressing! Ah, what the aging mind does to oneself!"

Aang glared at Gyatso's attempt to have the final word in their debate. "Hmph." His playful facade fell and was replaced with a grave expression unbecoming of a young airbending boy in the prime of fun. But such was his bother. "I guess - I dont know - its like there's so much responsibility! And work! No time for fun, no time for play, no time for anything that I should be doing! And - and -" he caught himself, and let out in a strangled whisper, "And then friends. You're my best friend in the world, Gyatso, but at the same time, at this point, you're my only friend. All work and no play and no time for anything else - it's hurting me. Not to mention-" Aang grimaced to hold back his tears. "Even if I had time for friends and fun, I wouldn't be able to have them. Because I'm the Avatar. And apparently, the very knowledge that I'm the Avatar changes the course of everything entirely." He threw his arms up to prove his point, and huffed when they came crashing down. "I just - I don't know. I know I shouldn't be complaining right now, but - I just needed to get it out."

"Aang," Gyatso said softly. "Aang, I get it. You're simply a twelve-year-old boy, in the prime of your youth, the perfect time when you are old enough to know about everything you need to know, yet young enough to be unfettered by responsibility. But being the Avatar - it changes everything, doesn't it?" Gyatso walked over and sat at the foot of Aang's bed. There was a silence that enveloped the room - an anxious silence that pressed Aang on all sides. He could dimly see Gyatso's shadow projecting onto the wall. He noticed the moonlight reflecting off his hands. He noticed slight indents in the floor that he had assumed was perfectly uniform. He noticed every stitch in his blanket and every wrinkle on its surface. His eyes couldn't rest, a medium of his unease and sad state.

But at the same time, the quiet calmed him down, an empty, tranquil atmosphere that quelled Aang's heaves into benign breaths. Slowly, his heartbeat fell, his eyelids lowering from their wide state, and he had somewhat returned to his apathetic constitution of before. He had almost forgotten that Gyatso was in his room when his mentor finally spoke up.

"It's a great power and a terrible curse, to be the Avatar. Burdens are dropped onto your shoulder, to be delivered upon promptly. Your days consist of tedium - tiring tedium that even Roku admitted he had difficulty handling at times. And what is more, you have an impending war to worry about. Aang, we are a pacifist people, but the Avatar - the Avatar isn't necessarily bound to that law."

Aang stiffened. "What do you mean? You always taught that all life was sacred and to harm it was a deadly transgression! What do you mean, I'm not bound to pacifism? I'm the Avatar, but I'm an airbender, first and foremost!"

Gyatso turned his head. "You're right. I misspoke. Besides, that was not my main point." He turned his eyes to Aang. "But all is not over. You can still have fun. You can still do other things. You can still fall in love. You can still feel. The Avatar doesn't take away anything - it only adds. Certainly there are things that come with being the Avatar that may give your misgivings and reservations about your role in the world, Aang, but there are other sides to it."

"Like what?" Aang asked, interest piqued.

"For example -" Gyatso said, twinkle in his eye. "Your ability to master elements quickly. You are the youngest full-fledged airbending master by far." Aang beamed, remembering the revelation of his air scooter fondly. "It can come with perks such as good food and services. Maybe after this whole war blows over, we can properly visit the Southern Water Tribe and be treated with good food!" Gyatso wrinkled his nose. "Sea prunes are the worst!"

"Wait. What are sea prunes?"

Gyatso looked at Aang in surprise. "You mean you never tried one?" Aang's dumbfounded look was enough answer. Gyatso's shoulders sagged, partly from relief, partly from disappointment. "Thank the Spirits you've never been subjected to such an ordeal. Suffice to say, please don't eat it. Although if you do -" Gyatso perked up. "Maybe I'd have someone to commiserate with."

Aang's eyebrows raised. "Are you kidding me? You've just successfully convinced me never to try whatever food you're talking about, and now you want me to experience the torment on my tongue firsthand? No thanks!" He couldn't stop himself from breaking into a smile of amusement as now Gyatso pouted back at Aang in good jest.

"Perhaps your Avatar status wasn't as secretive as I thought. But see? There is nothing bad with being the Avatar. It can be overwhelming. It can be difficult. Dangerous? Yes. Life-threatening? Yes. But - " Gyatso said with a mischievous tone. "If you want to think of it from a philanthropic way - at least no one else has to endure the same sufferings as you."

"I wish someone would so I wouldn't have to," muttered Aang from his breath. Gyatso laughed. "I'm starting to think that we're making too much noise. Just because we're up doesn't mean we should force everyone else up as well."

"See? You're doing a majority of Avatar work there!" cried Gyatso.

Aang's hopes foolishly rose. "Really?" he asked naively.

Gyatso smiled pityingly. "No. I'm sorry, my pupil. But compassion and thought are vital to the role of the Avatar - which you are exemplifying quite clearly. So don't worry. Besides, I doubt this war will truly happen. I think it's just Firelord Sozin attempting to raise a storm."

Aang nodded sadly. "I guess. But still - I don't know about the part where I'm given things and not losing them. I mean, look up." Gyatso glanced upwards at the ceiling, and gazed expectantly at his student. "When you talked about counting the stars... I was thinking... that maybe that was what I was doing," admitted Aang. He swept his arm towards the ceiling. "I was trying to find the light in the darkness - or lights. It doesn't matter. I try to find some good in my situation, and I can't. It really is me trying to count the stars. All I see is -" he flopped down, his head smacking the pillow. " - a blank canvas." He closed his eyes.

Gyatso got up, and slowly walked over. They were silent as they observed each other. Aang's inner turmoil had lessened. A huge weight had been lifted off his chest. His heart swelled in appreciation for the friend who comforted him and alleviated his fears. But he still didn't feel right, just looking up and not seeing the stars...

"You know, Aang, you are right. Sometimes, it's hard to count the stars because there aren't any in sight for you to count. But look - outside the door. Outside your windows. Aang got up on his elbows and peered outside. Hundreds of thousands of stars. All twinkling above him, shimmering in their ethereal wonder. As Aang stared in awe, not accustomed to this image at night due to his strict curfew, Gyatso kindly said, "From your viewpoint - your situation - in this moment - you aren't able to see any stars or count any blessings. Your sky and field of hopes is filled with nothing but a solid blackness. But perhaps it's because you just haven't realized them, haven't been able to experience them. And when you do - when you finally step out of your secluded room into the vast unknown and the uncertain future -" Gyatso smiled. "You will be able to count the stars."


Aang sighed happily at the memory of Monk Gyatso. Truly he was a wise friend and an accomplished airbender. And what was more, he was Aang's best friend in the world.

All gone.

The smile was wiped clean off his face as he morosely studied the ceiling. Monk Gyatso hadn't been right. He wasn't able to count his stars. One hundred years later, nearly the opposite side of the world and a whole war and Avatar mastery later, Aang still stared at nothingness. Gyatso was gone. His people were murdered. And he was alone, in a strange world where luck barely served him as it was to save him and the world from certain doom. He didn't count any stars. He saw visions of his people appearing before him and dissipating into smoke. Intangible echoes in his mind. He had never felt so alone and sad. He got out of bed, and walked over to the window. He sadly gazed outside, hoping beyond all hope to see some of the sparkling constellations, a sort of reparation for the ruination of his life. But the burning brightness of the lanterns below obscured his vision. Try though he might, he couldn't make anything beyond the cluttered streets below and the orangish glow of the lamps. Defeated, he shuffled back to his bed. He couldn't count any stars.

And then suddenly a flash of fabric caught his eye. He slid over to see who it was, and saw Katara at the door, one arm rubbing the other, standing awkwardly and seeming so small in the doorway and being so innocent and breathtaking and beautiful. Aang's heart swelled, and smiled wholeheartedly upon seeing her. Katara glanced up at him, and his heart skipped a beat.

And when she smiled back, Aang knew that Gyatso had been right after all.

Without hesitation, he rushed over to his bed, dove in, and buried himself beneath his blanket. He held out a corner of the bed for Katara to join in, which she did after some small hesitation. Aang snuggled up against her, marveling at how perfectly they fit together. Perhaps this was what Gyatso meant, thought Aang wistfully. The airbenders are gone, but... there's her.

"Aang..."

His mind quickly snapped back to the present, to properly administrate to Katara's worries. "What is it, sweetie?"

Katara looked up to him, wide blue orbs disarming him and distracting him from the holder's concern. "I'm - I'm scared."

Aang fully swiveled his body to look at her properly. She was looking away from him, at the opposite wall. "Wait, what? Katara, what do you mean? You were always the one who held us together. You never voiced your fears before. So why do it now?"

Aang's eyes widened as he realized what he had just said. He frantically backpedaled. "Wait - no - Katara - I'm sorry - I didn't mean."

Katara sniffed, and haughtily said, "Nice to know even you think that way... women are not tools of men, Aang."

"Katara - I'm sorry - I - " but Aang quickly stopped with his frantic appeasement of the hot-headed woman when he saw her failing to attempt to suppress a smile and starting to shake from uncontrolled mirth. "Katara, seriously? You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"Oh, weally?" mocked Katara. "What do you mean, Aangy? The most powerful bender in the world is telling me that he almost had a nasty heart attack?"

Aang blushed, and this time, what with their close proximity, Aang was positive that Katara could detect Aang's body heating up from embarrassment. "Well..." he said shyly. "... you make me helpless just by looking at me, Katara."

Whatever playful malintent that was written on Katara's face melted away at those words. "Aw... Aang...," she whispered earnestly.

Aang smiled goofily back at her, and they remained like that, blue orbs captured by grey ones, grey orbs captured by blue ones. They laid there, each the other's star, holding on to each other, staring at their beacons of light. Aang smiled helplessly, wanting to do anything and everything to make Katara safe and happy, no matter the cost.

Which reminded him...

"What were you saying before about being scared?" Aang pried softly.

Katara stopped smiling, and turned her face away from Aang. "Wait... Katara... you don't have to hide things from me..."

"I know. But... today... was... was..."

"Something," Aang deadpanned.

Katara nodded. "A few somethings. Everything going all well, and then bam! out of nowhere, no food, market complications, Kuei attacked, and assassin on the loose. I don't think this could get any worse." She yawned and buried herself into Aang's chest. "Although snuggling next to you could make things better... a lot better," she purred contentedly as Aang involuntarily blushed and wrapped his arms around her.

But even with this welcome distraction, there was something still bothering Aang at the back of his mind, something he couldn't quite put a finger on. He knew it was something important, but no matter how hard he wracked his brain, he was unable to come up with the root of the problem. Oh well. It was late, and he was tired, and whatever was bothering him could surely be left till the next day. Besides, Katara was too distracting, what with her body touching his...

Aang suddenly stiffened, which caused Katara to lift her head up and pout at Aang at the sudden coldness of his attitude towards her - only to see the look of confusion and thought on Aang's face. "Aang?" she asked tentatively, but Aang was too caught up in his thoughts to hear her.

First off, what exactly happened that morning? They ran out of food, and Katara went to the store alone. Alone. Without Aang or Sokka or anyone by her side. And then all of a sudden she starts acting weird, and reports about Azula and an attempt on King Kuei's life quickly follow. How quickly a day had gone bad. But Aang, now looking back at the events of the day and piecing them all together, started wondering if there was some sort of correlation between Katara's extended excursion and the events of the latter half of the day.

"Sweetie?" his voice cracked.

Katara pushed herself off Aang's chest, fully realizing something was wrong. "What is it?"

"You remember... how you went to the market and took so long?"

"Yes," Katara said guardedly, which set warning bells off in Aang's mind.

"And you know how after you returned, we found out all about the news of the assassination attempt and Azula breaking out of her facility?"

"Are you saying that I'm complicit in these events because of some stupid boys at the market?" Katara asked dryly. "Seriously, you ought to place better trust in me. Nothing happened except some boys with overactive youth hormones tried getting a little frisky, is all. Nothing else."

"Um... okay..." Aang said skeptically. "But I'm still thinking that there might have been some connection between that and Azula. Are you sure nothing else happened besides that?"

Katara sniffed. "Yes, I'm sure, Aang," she said, and something in her tone set Aang's nonexistent hair on edge. What was that attitude she had adopted? Nothing seemed right. It was as though Aang had been placed in some convoluted dream with a capricious Katara whose moods and behaviors changed on the fly. Aang simply didn't understand. Sure, there were shortcomings from his side too, but he just didn't understand what was going on.

"Sweetie, I didn't mean anything by it. I trust you beyond comprehension. It's just that... I'm also scared as well, and I just want to explore all possible angles in order to get rid of this problem so we can get back to our wonderful - if not entirely uneventful - life here."

Katara softened. "I guess you're right. But even still, I'm afraid for you. What if those assassins - what if they -"

"I thought you said I was the Avatar?" Aang teased. "Don't forget, we've done this thing before. And against worse odds. Young and inexperienced and unlucky at the worst possible time. But now - now I'm a fully realized Avatar, and we're all masters at our arts - even Sokka." Aang smiled reassuring. "I don't think we'll be in any trouble - even from Azula." He said this last part with a burst of bravado, as if to convince himself of that fact. Sure, they were stronger. But Azula was too. Time could only have helped heal her shattered brain or figure out how to use it to her advantage. Aang had a sickening feeling he wouldn't like what Azula had in store for him. Not at all.

But then again, when was Azula's meddling ever liked?

In any case, his reassurance worked. Katara relaxed. "I know. But it still feels good, hearing that from your own lips." Her lips suddenly quirked up. "But is it just me, or did you just say that you were scared as well?"

"Hey! I always told you my feelings. What makes this time so different?" Aang frowned in disapproval.

"Maybe the fact that you implied that I should suppress mine?"

Aang tried to find a retort to that, but for the second time, his mind suddenly blanked when Katara trained her innocent eyes on his. Even in such dim lighting, he never thought blue could look so beautiful. But then again, it was Katara. The light of his life. And without realizing it, his lips curled, his eyes narrowed, and before he knew it, he was leaning in, wanting to kiss her, wanting to touch her, to revel in her...

"Hey yo, Aang, sorry to bother you, but have you seen Katara anywhe -" Sokka peered inside Aang's room, and his eyes bulged when he saw Aang and Katara leaping away from each other, startled and guilty. "WHAT THE HECK? AANG YOU GET OFF MY SISTER RIGHT NOW OR I WILL START HUNTING YOU DOWN WITH MY CLUB AND MR. BOOMERANG I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE THINKING THE BOTH OF YOU BUT GUARANTEED I'M GONNA GIVE YOU THE CHEWING OUT OF YOUR LIVES I GET YOU GUYS CAN'T SUPPRESS YOUR OOGIES BUT CAN'T YOU CHOOSE A DIFFERENT TIME TO - TO - UGH" Sokka leaned backwards and wiped his face dramatically.

"And can't you choose a different time to start screaming, Sokka? I bet you woke up half of our Ring!" shot Katara. "Why are you even monitoring me?"

Sokka blinked three times, then shot a quick glance at Aang, who immediately picked up on the gesture. Clearly, he wasn't the only person concerned over Katara's... strangeness. "Alright, alright, sis, you're right. I'm sorry. I really am. But we gotta concentrate. Azula's very likely on the loose, and who knows what else is happening there? We can't afford to be like this, cuddled up all lovey dovey, when all Azula has to do is crackle-crackle-boom-pow!" Sokka whirled his arms wildly about to illustrate his point. "zap you two to smithereens. It's just way too dangerous!"

Katara kicked the blanket off her to properly confront Sokka, but Aang held a restraining hand on her chest. She reluctantly subsided, looking over at Aang in askance.

"As much as I hate to admit it, he's right. We can't do this. I'm sorry, but... I think 'cuddle time' is over. Besides, it's not like I wanna tangle with Mr. Boomerang, eh?" Sokka puffed up his chest in pride until Katara snorted.

"Yeah, as if that's done anything for you against the Avatar, Sokka. Like that sneak attack when Aang was blindfolded and you had vision advantage and the club above your head? Huh, Sokka?" And Aang and Katara laughed while Sokka hunched over and clenched his fists in annoyance.

"Ugh... I hate you two! Just get away from each other!" he snapped with grit teeth. "And before I explode - good night!" he stomped out of the room. Then he came back in. "Katara..." he warned.

Katara was just about to sneak back into bed with Aang, but having been caught, she reluctantly said good bye and good night to Aang, sidled out the door, and stomped past Sokka, no wishes extended to him. Sokka sighed, and then shut Aang's door. He heard footsteps fading away from his door, and then silence.

He yawned. Only after Katara had left did he notice how fatigued he was.

And so he settled in under his blanket and closed his eyes.

He opened them again. Looked out the window. He was surprised to see a star shining in the sky. A solitary star, but a star nonetheless. The streetlights made it difficult to discern, and the rest of the night sky still remained invisible, but nevertheless, the star was there.

Smiling, Aang closed his eyes again, facing the window. He had found a star.

He intended on keeping it.


When Katara closed the door to her room, she leaned on the door and growled in impatient anger.

She was so incompetant. Multiple opportunities to stab Aang alone in the bedroom alone. And she took none of them. Why? What held her back?

And her attempts to kiss him. Where were those coming from? What spirit possessed her to attempt such a repulsing action? She didn't understand. She hated the Avatar and everything he stood for. So why did so many of her actions contradict her being?

Maybe it's the other way around -

Katara calmly crushed the dissenting voice. She had no need for its annoying input. She knew what she knew, and no voice of rebellion could change something concrete in her mind. Fortunately, the voice had been appearing less and less, likely learning its uselessness, and Katara could be at peace in her resolve to serve Azula.

But then there was stupid, annoying Sokka. He just had to come into the room the one time she managed to bolster her courage to unsheath the knife from its hiding place. Stupid watertribe filth. How did he find the worst possible times to interrupt her? It almost seemed to be an art of his. She blinked back tears of frustration. She was so upset. Not only did it prove her failure as a watertribe peasant, but Firelord Azula would likely be displeased.

Very displeased. Angry. Apopleptic. In fact, Katara dreaded having to face the Firelord and inform her of her shortcomings. Even though some things were out of her control, in the end, all of the blame rested solely on her. She felt sick at the thought of seeing the Firelord react to her dreadful news of failings. But she had no choice in the matter. With nothing good to give Azula, she nevertheless had to report to her like the loyal subject she was. No matter the outcome, the Firelord was to know.

And so, after hearing the snores of Sokka and knowing that Aang likely wouldn't be checking in on her, she quietly crept over to her window, swiftly vaulted herself to the rooftop, tested her weight on the tiles, and ran swiftly.

She had already messed up everything. She might as well not leave the Firelord waiting as well.

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