Shattered
Chapter Eight
Anko waited until she was to the other side of her barn and out of sight of the house before stopping. She leaned against the large sandstone blocks that made up the base of the barn and took deep, cleansing breaths. She felt the built up stress start to leave her body as her back absorbed the sun warmed stone's radiant heat. Anko had been dancing a knife's edge; pushing the teen enough to fan the spark of life she saw behind his sun colored eyes into a flame without pushing so hard as to extinguish it. It had been close; when she mentioned the Uncle picking up his corpse, she thought maybe she had pushed too hard, but it had turned out okay. She had seen those like him before; younglings with dead and hopeless eyes, eyes that spoke of horrors witnessed and survived. Zuko, at least, didn't seem that far gone. He had some self respect left; otherwise her calling him "boy" wouldn't have bothered him so much. Or at least that's what she hoped.
Anko chewed her lower lip and absently scratched the back of her left hand. It still felt wrong, leaving him like that. Frustrated, she pushed herself away from the barn. Don't be foolish, she scolded herself. You can't watch him all day and night and you can't hog-tie him every time you leave. If he really wants to kill himself that badly, he'll find a way to do it even if you do hawk over him. Anko stalked away from the barn determinedly. The smell of his blood still clung to her, overpowering the warm, earthy smells of her farm. She snorted, trying to clean the taint from her nose. Memories, long ago buried, were attracted to the scent like flies.
Anko's mood soured further, "Max!" she bellowed as she reached his pasture. The mule, recognizing from her tone that it was no time to be ornery, came trotting to her call. She took hold of his halter as he came to the gate, trying to push all thoughts of the Fire Nation teen aside as she did so. "Let's get going; it's time to get to work."
It was dusk by the time Anko returned home. She shook her head wearily; there was a lot of work to do, especially in the upper field. One of the storms that blew in from the coast had downed several trees into the field as it lay fallow; it would take days for her to clear it. Of course, the fields in the valley were in various stages of production. They needed her attention too. Still, it wasn't the amount of work left to be done that kept her lingering near the barn as dusk slowly surrendered itself over to night. In truth, Anko was a little leery of what might await her inside the little stone house. She dawdled as she tended to Max, telling herself it was to make up for the hasty care he had received the previous couple of says. Finally, though, there was no more left to do. Anko mentally prepared herself for the worst and went to her house.
The farmer paused just inside the doorway. An oil lamp had thoughtfully been left lit for her, but that's not what attracted her attention. Zuko had apparently decided to clean up the mess he had left on her floor. He had obviously attacked the problem with much gusto. The once smallish puddle of blood was now a huge rust colored stain, covering not only the flagstone it had originated on, but a couple of its neighbors as well. The scorch mark on the floor had received similar treatment, with similar results. Anko shook her head ruefully and suppressed a chuckle. She entered the house, noticing for the first time a balled up cloth that had been left on her kitchen counter, by the wash tub. Anko's mirth left her. She grasped the still moist cloth between her forefinger and thumb and gave it a good shake. The pattern of the cloth, now mostly covered up by blood, dirt and soot, was still recognizable.
My best towel! She regarded the dangling towel for a moment; there was no help for it, the cloth was ruined. "Men!" she muttered to herself while rolling her eyes skyward. The now offensive towel got shoved into the belly of her stove. Zuko, she noted, also had banked the fire for her, something she had forgotten in her haste to leave before. Her stomach gave a low rumble, reminding her of what else was forgotten in the noon time excitement. Anko saw that her bread and cheese lunch was still waiting for her on the table.
First things first, the farmer thought as she moved to the back wall of the room. A fireplace stood in the middle of the wall, to the left and to the right were doors that led to the house's two bedrooms. Anko opened the one to her right. The room itself was dark but the light from the main room was enough to see by. Zuko lay in bed with his back to the door, the slow, even sound of his breathing filled her with unexpected relief. The Fire Nation teen was curled up almost fetally, the soft sound of a purr gave Anko a clue as to what he was curled up around.
"Misha?" she called softly. The foxcat's reddish head popped up almost instantly. Large green eyes blinked sleepily at her as the feline rested her head on Zuko's side. Anko sighed. Ordinarily the cat wasn't allowed to sleep on the beds but Misha seemed to instinctively know that sleeping with Zuko was safe and had been sneaking in with him often. Anko gave up and pulled the door mostly closed again; she certainly wasn't about to disturb the boy just to scold the cat.
Her stomach growled again. Anko sliced herself some bread and cheese and sat down in one of the wooden chairs. Placing a foot on the table, she rocked the chair back on its rear legs, a habit her Grandfather had hated, and regarded the stained floor thoughtfully. Zuko had at least tried to clean it up; that counted for something, even if his attempt had been unsuccessful and had cost her a good towel. She rocked the chair back further, hanging her head back so she could see the door behind her. It was only open a crack; even if Zuko was awake, he wouldn't see anything. Satisfied, Anko let the chair settle softly back down on all four legs.
After all, that boy obviously has got enough on his mind without him worrying about things that shouldn't concern him. She finished her cheese sandwich and brushed the crumbs off her fingers. Anko focused on the five marred flagstones, and then jerked her hand upward, fingers extended. Obediently, all five stones jumped upward and hovered suspended in the air. The farmer turned her hand until her palm was facing down, the flagstones turning with the motion. Anko slowly lowered her hand, placing the flipped flooring back where it came from. She furrowed her brows; now the stains were facing downward into the soil, but the reverse sides of the stones were covered in caked on dirt; there was even a worm crawling on one. With a sigh, Anko rose from the chair and pressed her back against the fireplace wall.
Oh well, the house needs cleaning anyways. Spreading her arms wide so that they encompassed the whole room, she took a breath and let it out while simultaneously stepping forward and snapping her arms together in a silent clap. The earth on the flagstones, the tracked in dirt, even the dust that tended to settle on things, all of it blasted out the front door, compelled by the power of her bending. Anko stepped forward to inspect her floor with satisfaction. No one would ever guess a teen lay bleeding on it earlier that day. As far as Zuko was concerned, let him think that she was simply a better cleaner than him. There was no need for him to know or worry about her being an earthbender.
Anko yawned and closed her front door. Today had certainly been eventful; she could only hope that tomorrow would be a better day.