A/N: If the chapter divisions from here on out seem a little awkward, it's because they are. I rough drafted this on paper where the chapters were falling very naturally at around twenty pages each, which I felt was really too long for an internet read. So I went through and divided them into more manageable sizes. Hopefully this will cause no confusion.
Shattered
Chapter Four
Zuko sat on the end of the dock, the cooling sea breeze ruffling his tied back hair. It was dark, past time for him to return to his little boat for the night. He stirred a little, trying to build up motivation to move when he saw the reflection of lantern lights in the dark water. He frowned, his ship was the only one this far out on the dock. He settled himself back down to wait. He didn't have to wait long; there were four of them, judging by the footsteps and soon enough they were at his back.
"Hey! Hey you, Fire Nation! We don't like you sitting on our dock." The voice was both belligerent and slightly slurred.
"Yeah, why don't you just go home?" Home? Zuko thought to himself. It's just that simple? I should just go home? Sure, I'll just explain to Father how these peasants gave me permission to go home. I'm sure he'll understand. He sat and said nothing.
"Are you ignoring us, boy? Are you disrespecting us!" the first voice came back. "Turn around. I'll teach you some respect!"
"You will learn respect and suffering will be your teacher."
Zuko jerked as the specter of his Father's voice came back to him. He turned in time to see the lead villager start to swing down with a wooden club. Time slowed down. Zuko could have laughed. That was it? That was their big threat to him, a wooden club? It would be child's play to block it, to block it and spinout with a leg sweep, knocking the lead two on their asses. Or he could burn it; watch as their smirky faces turned to fear as their weapon was reduced to ash in his hands.
The club descended closer. It was a joke, really. Did they really think that thing could hurt him? That he could possibly hurt any more than he already did?
Closer. Did they really think that he was here by his own choice? That he would choose to stay in their pathetic little village rather than returning home?
Closer.
I want to go home. It was his last thought before the club struck the top of his head and his world was plunged into darkness. The four men stared in disbelief as the Fire Nation soldier crumpled to the dock. "Well, hell, that was easy."
One laughed, "Shit, Shinji, I thought you were going to piss yourself when he turned around like that."
"Shut up." Their leader prodded the prone form with his toe. No response. He pulled back his leg and planted a strong kick in the soldier's ribcage. Still nothing. The others giggled a little, made giddy by their apparent victory and a little too much to drink. "Kick him again, Shinji." one urged.
"No, I want to kick him, let me!"
"Hey, let's push him into the water and see if he drowns!"
The club wielding Shinji stomped on the soldier once more. "Sounds good to me."
"Why don't you boys pick on someone who's conscious?" a slightly gravelly female voice came from behind the group. As one they turned. The lantern wielder raised it up, trying to shine light on the newcomer. "What business is it of yours?" Shinji asked as he pushed his way to the front of the group to face the woman.
"You know, I've been asking myself that same question all day." A wry voice responded.
A long thin pole flashed out of nowhere, connecting with Shinji's right wrist. The club fell uselessly from his numb fingers as he gave out a yelp. Not pausing in its movement, the pole swung around, connecting solidly with the man's head just above his ear. Shinji staggered. Relentless, the pole arced around again, this time hitting the backside of his knees. It was enough. Shinji toppled straight into the bay. A string of curses and splashing water met the ears of those on the dock.
"Well…" she drawled, "Guess he didn't drown." With a snarl, one of the other men charged her. This time she stepped into the attack. Grabbing his wrist and arm she ducked down and in, using the attacker's momentum to toss him over her shoulder and into the sea. "Next."
"You stupid bitch, who do you think you are?" The third man put down his lantern and pulled out a twelve inch blade from his belt. He unsheathed it with a smirk. "Not so tough now, are you, bitch?" The woman didn't move, shoulder length black hair fell forward and obscured her face. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Now I'm going to teach you not to meddle." He advanced on her cautiously. Still she didn't move. "What's wrong, scared stiff?"
The woman sighed. Her head came up, hair lifting to reveal narrowed dark eyes in a sharp face, a nasty smirk playing across her lips. "It's you!" Enraged, he swung the blade at her, but it was too late. Her makeshift wooden staff swung low, coming up to connect directly with the man's balls. With a gagging sound, he dropped to his knees. Anko swung again, splintering her staff across his head. He collapsed with a moan. Using her foot, she pushed the knife off the dock. The fourth man stared in fear at her. "Well?" she asked.
He backpedaled, hands held up. "Um, I don't want any trouble." He tripped over the still unconscious Fire Nation soldier. The dock was plunged into darkness as his flailing form took out the lantern and both fell into the sea. "Blast!" Anko swore at the sudden darkness. The attacker at her feet stirred. "Don't even think about it." Not wanting to take any chances, she directed a kick towards the man. His body rolled from the impact, and with a splash he joined his friends. Ignoring the cursing and splashing coming form the water, Anko quickly moved to the end of the dock, her feet padding silently across the wooden planks.
Reaching the Fire Nation teen she dropped to one knee, hand extending out to where she thought his head should be. She gently felt along his scalp, pulling away fingers sticky wet with blood. "Not good." She turned her head in the direction of the town. A crowd had gathered in front of the Inn. A multitude of lanterns and torches illuminated their growing mass. The sound of their voices merged together into and angry buzz, like a hive of stirred up bees. With a sigh, Anko turned back to the boy. He hadn't stirred, hadn't made a sound since he'd been hit. She probed his wound again a little harder this time. It didn't feel like his skull was cracked.
"Sorry boy, normally I wouldn't move you, but I don't think we have a choice here." Mind made up, Anko grabbed the limp form and pulled him up over her right shoulder. Securing him with her right arm she picked up the splintered remains of her staff with her left hand. Tightening her grip on both, she rode a bit unsteadily. Once balanced, she turned and headed for shore.
Anko made her way down the dock with cautious haste, using the minimal moonlight to navigate around the potential ankle grabbing obstacles that were littered across her path. As she approached the shore, she could count the heads of at least twenty some villagers standing outside the inn, most between her and her wagon. Anko frowned. She emerged from the darkness into the false light cast by the lanterns; the villagers falling silent to stare hostilely at her and the dead weight on her shoulder. Deliberately she picked one, a man whose face she vaguely recognized and walked directly towards him. Her black eyes made unwavering contact with his green ones. Step by steady step she grew closer, gaze unaltered as she approached the man. He shifted uncomfortably. His stare meandered from her eyes to her broken weapon and back. His weight shifted again. Finally he moved, and as if by magic the crowd moved with him, a path opening before her leading straight to her wagon.
Anko passed by wordlessly, feeling their intense stares on her back as she made her way through the throng. Only one face was sympathetic. Saki stood near the back of the wagon with her husband Hige. Her worried eyes darted from the approaching farmer, to the unconscious burden on her shoulder, to the group on villagers surrounding them and back again. "Anko…"
"Sorry Saki." Anko tossed the remains of her makeshift weapon towards the Innkeeper. It clattered to the ground loudly in the unnatural silence. "Looks like I owe you a new broom."
"Anko," Saki said urgently. "The healer isn't in town; he's on the Subura farm. She shifted uncomfortably. "I suppose we could make a place for him here." Hige nodded slowly. He was a good man, if not a bit simple. Anko, however, knew that the Portside Harbor Inn relied on the patronage of the locals to make ends meet. Saki couldn't afford to tick the townspeople off.
Wordlessly she rebalanced the soldier's weight on her shoulder, and then with her free hand, started pushing some of the heavy sacks in her wagon this way and that. The growing press of the crowd, the returning angry murmur of their voices, lent urgency to her movements. Anko could hear louder voices coming from near the harbor; at least one of the impromptu swimmers had made it ashore. Satisfied that nothing in the back of the wagon was going to fall on her new passenger, she loaded him up, wincing a little at the amount of blood that covered his head. The milling throng pressed closer. Anko untied her mule and spared the worried innkeeper a half smile. "See you around, Saki," she said as she mounted the wagon.
Max's nerves had already been worn thin by the encroaching villagers. Before Anko could even seat herself he lunged forward, the wagon lurching after him, scattering the surrounding people like leaves in its wake. Anko slapped the reins against his back although he hardly needed encouragement. They were both glad to leave the village of Yopoko behind. She let him have his head. Mules were breed for strength and endurance and Max was proving true to his kind as he quickly hauled the heavy wagon up the slowly rising terrain towards the distant woods. Once there Anko slowed him to a walk. The trail was much rougher here and the thick canopy of tree leaves obscured the moonlight. Not intending to stay in Yopoko that long, she hadn't bothered to bring a lantern. Luckily, they had traveled the same pathway many times before, so she knew the mule could find his way home even in the pitch dark.
Anko leaned back with a sigh, feeling some of the tension leaving her body. Chuckling a little at herself, she released her death grip on the reins to run her fingers through her hair. I must be getting too old for this crap. She listened for any noise coming from the back of the wagon, but heard nothing but the clopping of Max's hooves and the creaking and rattling of the wagon itself. She stiffened as a wagon wheel found a hole and they bounced through. This part of the trail had always been rough; in fact Anko had left it that way to discourage uninvited guests. But now, with the wounded soldier bleeding in back, in Anko's mind every bump and jostle appeared magnified tenfold. The wagon ride through the forest seemed to take forever, and it was a great relief to finally emerge into the clearing.
Eager to get home, Max picked up his pace once again. The wagon climbed one final hill before rolling downward into a shallow valley. The moon peaked out from behind a cloud, illuminating two structures: one large, one small. A natural smile graced the farmer's face at the sight. The long, tense ride was over. Finally they were home.