Chapter 2
Two months before the breakup
"Before we start, ask yourself: What am I trying to achieve with meditation today?"
Aang's voice echoed against the wood-paneled walls of the Air Acolytes' meeting hall in Ba Sing Se. He sat lotus-style at the front of the room with one hand resting in the palm of the other, the tips of his thumbs touching to form a circle. About thirty girls—and the occasional boy—bedecked in gold and orange robes were arrayed in several rows before him, all mirroring his position.
"Now, close your eyes. Focus on your breath," he said. "Breathe in. Breathe out."
Katara was curled up off to the side of the room, watching Aang as he led the Air Acolytes in meditation. She rarely meditated with Aang, but when she did, it was always just the two of them. Meditation did not come easily to her. To her, meditation was more about spending time with Aang, doing something that was important to him, than anything else.
So when Aang led meditation, Katara observed. She always sat near the front, but she stayed off to the side and out of the way. This was as close as she could be to him without distracting the others with her presence.
Besides, she liked to watch Aang meditate.
Something about the stillness of his face captivated her, like she was peering through a window and seeing a side of him he kept hidden from the world. His closed eyes and the straight line of his mouth made him look unusually serious, as if he was pondering the deep matters of life.
When Katara came across him meditating at home, she would stop and watch him, too. Sometimes he meditated with her ribbon wrapped around his hands. It was the ribbon she had worn on their first date. She had threaded the strand of cloth, with its pattern of alternating black triangles, down the middle of the elaborate braid she'd spent hours weaving in front of the mirror. Afterwards, she had given the ribbon to him to keep. The sight of him meditating with the strand of black triangles around his hands made her heart swell. Knowing that Aang held her in his thoughts even in his most private, sacred moments filled her with a joy that words could not express.
But her reasons for watching Aang meditate weren't always so deep. Sometimes she just liked looking at him.
Katara's eyes followed the curves of his arrows the way her fingers traced the blue lines when they were alone together. His chest rose and fell with each breath, like it did beneath her head when they snuggled in his bed. Her gaze lingered on his lips. She could almost feel how soft they were against hers when they exchanged kisses, as their tongues—
"You may be distracted by different kinds of thoughts," Aang said, the familiar warmth of his voice interrupting her daydream. "That's okay. Just acknowledge them. Don't follow them. Let them go."
Oh, right. That was the other problem. Meditating with Aang was far too distracting. They only meditated together when they were alone and knew they weren't going to be disturbed. But with Aang's mounting responsibilities, time together—alone and uninterrupted—was becoming ever more scarce. So when they spent that precious time meditating together, Katara didn't want to explore her spirituality so much as she wanted to explore Aang.
"Remember to focus on your breath. Focus on its rhythm. Feel the air flowing in and out of your chest as you breathe."
Together, Aang and the Air Acolytes breathed in and out in perfect synchrony, as if they were part of the same gigantic organ. Katara would have been the only person in the room breathing to her own rhythm, had it not been for the young man sitting against the wall directly opposite her. He stood out not only because he wore street clothes, but also because he was indisputably Water Tribe. Although he was too far away for her to pick out the color of his eyes, the complexion several shades too dark for this part of the world and the full head of thick, glossy hair gave him away. He dressed in Earth Kingdom green, which was not unusual—Katara sometimes did, too. What was unusual, though, was that he was missing the conventional Water Tribe wolf tail. Instead, he wore his hair cropped short and parted to the side. Even more curious, he held a large board against his knees and scribbled nonstop as the meditation continued.
"Remember, meditation is not about moving forward or backward, or whether you got what you wanted out of today's session. Meditation is about being present. Living in the moment. Letting go of the thoughts that crowd the mind and distract the spirit."
Even though the Water Tribe boy was not meditating, he seemed completely absorbed in what he was doing. Was he taking notes for some reason? But if that was the case, Katara didn't see how he could spend the entire time writing down his observations. There couldn't be that much to say about meditation. Why was he here, anyway? If he wanted to learn more about the Air Acolytes, it would make more sense for him to meditate with them. Or maybe he wanted to become an Acolyte himself. But again, why would he be sitting on the sidelines and not joining in?
"As we near the end of today's journey, we will spend the next few moments resting in stillness."
Aang breathed out, a long exhale through pursed lips, and the Air Acolytes followed suit. Quiet settled over the room. Even the Water Tribe boy no longer moved his brush, as if to respect the silence.
Katara closed her eyes. She was looking forward to having Aang to herself again, but she also liked listening to his voice and hearing him breathe. Even though she wasn't meditating with him, his presence still put her at peace.
"Open your eyes," Aang said after a while. "Gently move your toes, your feet, your ankles. Open and close your fingers. Roll your shoulders back and forth."
When he stood up, the Air Acolytes rose to their feet in a wave that rippled from front to back. "May the wind fill you with joy," he said with a bow.
"May the wind fill you with joy," the Acolytes murmured in unison, bowing in return.
As people began to mill about, Katara pushed herself to her feet and started to make her way over to Aang. But before she could get close, a knot of Acolytes had gathered around him, peppering him with questions and requests for advice.
She watched from afar as Aang patiently explained the purpose of meditation to the newer Acolytes and gave encouragement to the more experienced members. There had been a time—only a couple years ago—when she would have struggled with jealousy while Aang smiled and laughed with the girls crowding up against him. But the Air Acolytes had transformed from the squealing fangirls of the Official Avatar Aang Fan Club to earnest followers of the Air Nomad way of life.
A giddy Ooooh arose from the group of Acolytes surrounding Aang, who had turned a shade of self-conscious pink. Katara didn't catch what he had said or done, but he must have made quite the impression.
You can take the Acolyte out of the fan club, but you can't take the fan club out of the Acolyte, she thought with a smirk, trying not to let a sudden spike of annoyance spoil her mood.
"He's really something, isn't he?"
Katara started at the low voice at her elbow. It was the Water Tribe boy, standing next to her with a satchel slung over his shoulder and the writing board tucked under his arm. "Oh!" she said. "You mean Aang?"
"Yes. The last airbender and the Avatar. The Fire Nation bastards couldn't get him, after all."
"Right…" Katara said, unsure of how to respond to such a blunt assessment.
"Oh I'm sorry, I haven't introduced myself," he said, mistaking the reason for her discomfort. To her surprise, he bowed instead of extending his hand for a Water Tribe handshake. "The name's Takit. I'm a second-year student at Ba Sing Se University."
Katara touched her fist to her palm and returned his bow. "Nice to meet you, Takit. I'm Katara." She nodded her head at Aang, who was chatting away with the Acolytes. "Aang is my boyfriend."
Takit's eyes darted to Aang and back to her. "So you're the Avatar's girlfriend."
"And his waterbending Sifu," she said with a testy edge to her voice.
"Right, right. Of course," Takit said, running a hand through his hair in embarrassment. "I'm sorry. I must have come across as insensitive. Sometimes my enthusiasm gets the better of me. It's just that when I came to observe the Air Acolytes meditating together, I never thought I would see Avatar Aang with my own eyes. And now I'm getting to meet you, too."
"Oh, um—" Katara began as a blush crept up her face. Even two years after the end of the war, she still wasn't used to people treating her like a minor celebrity.
"The last airbender and the last female waterbender. How unusual," he said, his voice filled with wonder. "Unusual and incredible. Just incredible."
"Okay…" So not a celebrity, but a cultural curiosity? She wasn't sure she liked that, either.
Takit must have noticed her irritation, because he quickly said, "Ah, no, I'm sorry." He ran a hand through his hair again, a gesture that would have been endearing if he didn't keep sticking his foot in his mouth. "That came out wrong. I probably should have explained this earlier: I'm a student of anthropology at the university, and my focus is lost cultures."
"Like Air Nomad culture?"
He nodded. "And waterbending culture in the Southern Water Tribe. The Northern Water Tribe, too. Most people don't know that five hundred years ago, the North used to teach women to waterbend along with the men."
Katara snickered. "I can't wait to see the look on Master Pakku's face when I tell him that little factoid."
"Who's Master Pakku?"
"He used to be my waterbending teacher. Aang's, too. He's also a sexist old man from the Northern Water Tribe." Katara tapped her chin thoughtfully. "But less sexist these days, ever since he moved to the South Pole and married my Gran Gran."
"Wow. Sounds like there's a story there."
"It's a story, all right."
"I'd love to hear it. Maybe over tea, sometime?"
Katara's eyebrows shot up. "Are you asking me out?"
"No, no, no," he said, waving his hands to ward off her question. "It's just an honor to meet you and even talk to you, the only waterbender from the Southern Water Tribe. You and Avatar Aang both live and breathe cultures that have almost been lost forever."
"Oh, I see," she said, her cheeks flushing again. Takit's fascination with her and Aang was flattering, but she wasn't sure what to make of it.
"If you and the Avatar can spare the time, I would be thrilled to hear your stories over tea. But only if you want to, of course. No pressure."
"I'd love to, Takit. And so would Aang." Truth be told, she was curious about Takit, too. A boy from the Northern Water Tribe, at Ba Sing Se University? He hadn't said which pole he was from, but since she knew everyone in her village, he certainly wasn't from the South. But people from the North usually stayed in the North. Their isolation during the war continued into the era of peace, and they looked down their noses at the world outside of their icy walls.
"Chaya is my favorite place to study with a cup of oolong tea. It's on Tao Yuan Street, two blocks west of the university. Just leave a message with Lao Ren. He knows how to reach me." He shifted the board from under his arm and slipped it into his bag. Before he closed the flap, Katara caught a glimpse of the paper he had been writing on. She saw curved lines that seemed to form not words, but a shape that looked vaguely like an arm and a torso. Almost like a sketch.
How unusual, she thought.
Unusual…
"By the way, what did you mean by 'unusual?'" she asked Takit. "When you were talking about me and Aang. Is there something about us that is…unusual?"
Takit stiffened, his mouth working as he tried to come up with an answer. "Oh, uh, nothing really," he finally stammered out. He chuckled, but the way he brought his hand up to his hair and back down again did not escape Katara's eye. "It's just that I wasn't expecting to run into both of you at the same time."
His comment about her and Aang being unusual was odd enough, but his reaction to her question was odder still. Unable to make sense of any of it, she decided to shrug it off. "Okay then. Let's meet up sometime next week, if that works for you."
Takit smiled, relief softening his features as their conversation returned to safe territory. "Sure thing! I'll give Lao Ren my schedule, and he can help you figure out if there are any times when all of us are free."
"Sounds good. See you next week, then," Katara said, waving goodbye as he walked out of the meeting hall.
After Takit left, her mind kept circling back to the way he had called her and Aang unusual, and how uncomfortable he had looked when she asked him to explain. I wasn't expecting to run into both of you at the same time, he had said. But the more she thought about it, the more peculiar his answer seemed. Aang was her boyfriend. Why wouldn't Takit expect to find them together?
No matter how she turned the problem over in her head, she couldn't puzzle it out. She crossed her arms, dissatisfied, and tapped her foot. Her stomach growled a loud complaint. Aang was still talking to the Acolytes. She sighed. If he didn't wrap up soon, she was going to do it for him.
"Avatar Aang, do we really have to give away all our possessions to set our spirits free?" asked one of the younger Acolytes.
Aang laughed in that good-natured way of his. "Where did you hear that from?"
"You said it yourself, during a meditation last summer."
He frowned and scratched his head. Then he perked up and said, "Oh, right! I remember now. I didn't mean that you have to give everything away. But if you truly want to detach yourself from the world, you'll need to let go of the attachments that bind you to the world. Meditation can help you do that."
"What are attachments?" the Acolyte asked.
"They're like your marks in school," said a tall girl next to her.
Aang nodded. "Yes, worrying about your marks is a good example."
"Looks like you'll have to give up your shoe collection, Weiping," said another girl, snickering behind her hand.
"Shut it, Shao-Mi!"
"Could it be someone you love?" asked another Acolyte.
"Yes, if your attachment to them is very strong," Aang replied.
"Letting go of someone you love…" she mused. "That sounds like it's hard to do."
"It is. It's very hard."
"Then how do you do it? Have you ever let go of someone you love, Avatar Aang?"
To Katara's surprise, Aang turned his head and looked straight at her. Their eyes met. Then he quickly glanced away, as if he hadn't meant to draw her attention.
As if he had something to hide.
"You know what, why don't we continue this conversation some other time?" Aang said to the group of Acolytes. "The morning is getting on, and I'm sure you have other things planned for today."
A disappointed murmur arose from the Acolytes as Aang extricated himself and joined Katara. As she and Aang left the meeting hall, hand in hand, all she could think about was the look on his face when she had caught his eye. It had only been a fleeting moment, but there had been something in his expression. Something he hadn't wanted her to see.
Maybe it was her imagination, but that something had seemed a lot like…
Guilt?
Takit had said there was something unusual about her and Aang. Unexpected.
Why would he say that? she wondered. There's nothing unusual about me being with Aang.
Unless…
The Acolyte had asked Aang about letting go of someone he loved, and he had given her that guilty look.
Unless we're not supposed to be together.
"So Gran Gran told Pakku that it was Southern Water Tribe tradition for newlyweds to switch roles in the first week of marriage. To strengthen the new bond, you see."
Aang and Katara were sitting with Takit at a table in Chaya, huddled around steaming cups of oolong tea. The busy morning hours were filled with servers bustling between crowded tables and the banging of swinging doors as customers came and went. Katara was recounting the story of how Pakku had finally been able to woo Gran Gran to marry him, and how Gran Gran was determined to change his views on the place of women in society.
"So she ordered him to train with Yagoda in the North to learn how to heal with waterbending," Katara continued.
"Did she, now?" Takit leaned into the conversation with interest. "How did that go?"
"He failed miserably, didn't he, sweetie?" Aang said, giving her an affectionate grin as he clasped her hand.
Katara smirked. "Not only that, he was the only man in a class of girls and young women. He so did not want to be there."
"But he did it for love," Takit said with a laugh.
She nodded. "He did it for love."
Katara's eyes flicked down to where Aang's hand was joined with hers. Aang was acting like himself today, just as he had done over the past few days. Nothing about his behavior had been…unusual…since the meditation session the previous week.
"Though I suspect a certain someone," Aang said, waggling his eyebrows at Katara, "may have suggested the idea of healing lessons to Gran Gran."
She laid a hand over her heart with a dramatic sigh. "All right, I admit it. I may have wanted him to get a taste of his own medicine ever since he refused to take me on as his student."
Takit chortled and slapped his knee. "That should teach him not to mess with the women of the Southern Water Tribe!"
"The women in the North have got spunk, too, as I'm sure you're aware," she said.
But Takit scratched his head, as if puzzled by her remark. "I've hardly met anyone from the Northern Water Tribe, so you would know better than me."
Katara straightened in her chair, surprised. "You haven't? But…aren't you from the North?"
He shook his head.
"But I grew up in the Southern Water Tribe," she said. "I've known everyone in the village all my life, and I definitely haven't met you before. You would have been about my brother's age. The older boys left the village to fight in the war. All of the other boys we grew up with were at least ten years younger than him."
"I'm from the Southern Water Tribe, but we moved away when I was very young," Takit explained. "My parents were seal fur traders, and we would travel together to the Earth Kingdom whenever the fighting died down."
"They took you along? That sounds dangerous," Aang said.
"Yes. They knew it was dangerous, but they couldn't bear the thought of being separated from me, their only child, for so long. They'd heard too many stories about fellow traders being stranded with no way home, never to see their children again."
"Is that what happened, then? Did your family get stuck in the Earth Kingdom?" Katara asked.
"Not exactly. The trading business was dangerous and it was getting harder and harder to make a living. Then one year, we came to Ba Sing Se because that was where the best markets were. When my parents saw that the city was still untouched by the war after a hundred years, they decided to stay. I was only five then. That's why you don't remember me."
Katara knew it couldn't have been as easy as simply deciding to stay. His parents would have started from scratch, with no real way to make a living, since seal fur came from the South Pole. Takit's family would have been refugees. The Lower Ring of Ba Sing Se, where refugees were herded into slums, did not seem like a promising place to build a life.
"That must have been so hard, Takit, starting over like that," she said, laying a sympathetic hand on his wrist.
Takit shrugged and pulled his hand away. "I don't remember it too well. Things weren't that difficult, though. My parents got lucky and found work right away."
"That's great," Aang said with an encouraging smile.
The other boy didn't reply, his eyes trained on the cup in front of him. Katara rubbed the rim of her own teacup with her finger, unsure of why Takit had withdrawn into silence.
Thankfully, Aang changed the subject. "Katara was telling me you sat in on the meditation session with the Air Acolytes last week. What did you think?"
Takit's eyes lit up at the mention of the Air Acolytes. "It was fascinating, if you don't mind me saying. Absolutely fascinating! To think that we're witnessing the rebirth of Air Nomad culture in this lifetime!"
"Uh, yes," Aang said, chuckling as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm just happy that people are interested in bringing back Air Nomad culture. I honestly don't know what I would do if it was all up to me."
Katara squeezed Aang's hand and laced their fingers together. "You would have figured something out. You have me and all of our friends. We would have figured it out together."
"You're right," he said. His gaze was as warm as ever, with no sign of the guilt she'd seen last week.
Maybe I'm imagining things after all.
Aang turned back to Takit. "Thank you, Takit. It means a lot to know that there are others who want to make sure my people's culture survives." He paused for a moment. "And that it's not just me," he finished, his voice growing thick.
Even with the low buzz of chatter in the teahouse, a solemn silence settled around them. Takit opened his satchel and pulled out a roll of paper. "I painted this last week during the meditation. It was supposed to supplement my notes on Air Nomad practices. It's not much, but I'd like you to have it, Avatar Aang."
He unfurled the paper and anchored it with a teacup on one end and an inkstone on the other. It was the paper Katara had assumed he'd been taking notes on, because she recognized the oddly curved lines she'd glimpsed the previous week. But instead of forming characters, the lines coalesced into the image of an Air Acolyte.
Aang stared at the paper, forgetting to remind Takit—for the tenth time—to just call him Aang. In the painting, row upon row of Air Acolytes were seated before Aang, the vibrant yellows and oranges of their robes dotting the paper like a field of wildflowers.
His eyes brimmed with tears. Katara knew what he must be feeling, because she felt it, too. The painting could have been a sketch of an Air Temple mural or an illustration in a historical text. But it wasn't. For the first time in one hundred years, someone had captured the image of the closest thing to living, breathing Air Nomads—the last Air Nomad alive and the followers of Air Nomad culture, meditating as one. Even though Aang poured his heart and soul into teaching the Air Acolytes, Katara did not think he dared to dream that he would see his culture restored.
"Thank you," he said, as he choked up with tears.
Katara slipped an arm around Aang's back. He leaned into her and rested his cheek against her head. Despite their closeness, despite the joy for him that blossomed in her heart, something about the painting nagged at her.
That something was Katara herself. Takit had painted her into the picture as well, huddled up against the wall near the front of the room, a tiny island of blue floating outside a sea of saffron and gold.
After Katara and Aang said goodbye to Takit outside the teahouse, they headed for the train station. They wove their way along the busy street, staying out of the path of ostrich-horses and carriages that rumbled down the cobblestone lane. Aang clasped Katara's hand, his fingers a warm comfort around hers. In his other hand, he held the rolled-up painting close to his chest like it was a treasured possession.
Aang had been quiet ever since they left Chaya. He walked with his eyes unfocused, only present enough to avoid running into the people in front of them.
Katara knew he was thinking about the painting of him and the Air Acolytes meditating together. Though her heart swelled for him, she couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that had been eating away at her since last week.
Even though nothing had changed about Aang—he had been his typical open and loving self—she couldn't stop seeing the guilty look he had given her when the Air Acolyte asked him about letting go of people he loved. And then there had been Takit's strange comment about her and Aang being unusual.
The question that had bothered her since the meditation session repeated over and over in her head.
What if we're not supposed to be together?
They turned down a side street, leaving the frenetic pace of the main thoroughfare behind. The smaller street was deserted and possessed the kind of calm that encouraged quiet conversation.
Aang's attention was still drawn into himself, but Katara couldn't hold back anymore. She needed to know.
"Hey Aang, can you answer a question for me?"
"Hm?" He blinked and gave his head a little shake. "Sure. What is it?"
"Why do you meditate? I know we've talked about it before, but I still don't understand."
"Meditation helps me clear my mind," he said. "It helps me keep my spirit in balance."
Hmm. That was the same answer he had given her when she asked him about meditation years ago, when she and Sokka first began traveling with him. But last week, he had talked about attachments with the Air Acolytes. Why wouldn't he mention that to her, too?
"But there's more to it than that, right? I heard you talking to the Air Acolytes about setting your spirit free. Letting go of attachments or something."
Aang slowed his stride, and Katara slackened her pace to match his. They came to a halt in front of a war monument.
"Uh, yeah. That's right," he said, his eyes briefly meeting hers before darting away. "In the past, some Air Nomads have let go of their attachments to this world so they could free themselves from the world."
"Were some of their attachments…the people they loved?"
Aang said nothing and gazed at the war monument. Katara had never seen this particular monument before, but she wasn't surprised. Ba Sing Se was littered with dozens of memorials commemorating the heroes who had freed the city from the Fire Nation's grasp. This monument was a sculpture of a white lotus resting atop a bed of flames and crystals carved from stone. The white lotus represented the city's liberators, and the meaning of the flames needed no explanation. The crystals, she supposed, symbolized the Avatar's fall in the crystal catacombs and the fall of Ba Sing Se.
But Aang wasn't looking at the white lotus. Katara followed his gaze, which was drawn to the flames and the crystals that encircled the base of the sculpture. She tightened her grip on Aang's hand and looked away.
"Yes," he eventually said, still staring at the monument.
She almost didn't ask the next question because she dreaded the answer. But she swallowed against the tightness in her throat and forced her words to remain steady. "What does it mean to let go of someone you love?"
Aang finally tore his eyes away from the monument and looked at her, his face troubled. "Why are you asking me about this?"
"Because…" Katara tried to shrug in a casual manner, but the motion came off jerky and stiff. "I'm curious. I want to understand the things that are important to you."
He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her close. "Letting go of someone means you stop holding on," he said, his chin moving against her hair as he spoke.
Then, more softly, as if talking to himself, he said, "Even if it means giving them up."
His arms around her were warm and gentle, yet as solid as the rock he bent to his will.
You stop holding on…
Her nose was tucked under the angle of his jaw, her lips pressed against his neck. She could feel the bounding of his pulse with every beat of his heart, as if she was a part of him, as if there was no separation between them.
…even if it means giving them up.
The realization of what he was doing hit her like a ball of ice to her stomach.
Aang was holding on to her until he couldn't hold on anymore.
He was holding on to her until he had to give her up.
Katara clamped down on the sob that rose up through her throat. She pushed away from him. He loosened his arms and let them fall to her waist.
But she couldn't detach herself from Aang completely. She still clung to his arms. They stood in the middle of the empty street, holding each other. But there was space between them now.
And there was one more thing she needed to know.
"Did all the Air Nomads detach themselves from the world? Was there anyone who chose not to follow that path?" Katara kept her head down. She couldn't look into his eyes. She was afraid that what she saw might break her.
Aang was quiet. A breeze caught the painting clutched in his hand and fluttered the roll of paper against her back.
"Sometimes there isn't a choice," he said finally.
Katara wasn't looking at him, but his answer almost broke her anyway.
