Shattered
Chapter Eleven
Anko swung the axe with far more force than necessary; the two pieces of cleaved wood went flying off the block. Angrily she set up another log. The nerve of Shikimaru! The greedy bastard would do anything to obtain her farm, but he was really pushing her patience this time. And the rest of Yopoko too. Another fierce swing, another log suffered her wrath. Traitor! I'm a traitor! The word got under her skin like no other. She glared at the back of her left hand. Time and treatment had faded the scar into obscurity, but it would always stand out to her. She resisted the urge to dig her nails across it. Instead she vented her fury on another log. Those four idiots who decided to "protect" Yopoko from Zuko, I wonder if anyone has given any thought about what might have happened if they had actually succeeded. Short sighted fools!
Anko tried to calm herself down. The leaders of Yopoko village were corrupt and greedy, but most of the people were simply trying to eke out a living in a difficult world. Still, putting the blame on one teenage boy for a fish shortage and a blight, that's nothing more than pure stupidity! She paused her war on firewood to wipe the sweat from her brow. Come on Anko, if you kill everyone who's stupid or irritating, there wouldn't be many people left in this world. Who cares what they think anyways? It's not as if they can do anything about it but talk.
Feeling a little bit better, she looked over at Max. The mule was tied in the shade, eating big mouthfuls of overgrown grass at the edge of the field. "Live it up while you can, long-ears; once I finish loading this wagon, it's all yours." The mule ignored her completely. Instead his ears and eyes focused back towards her house. "Yeah, yeah, I know he's coming," she muttered, sparing a quick look behind her.
Zuko was making his way slowly up the gentle incline from her house, his red Fire Nation clothes making him stand out against the background. His similarly colored entourage followed closely in his wake. The foxcat was clearly in a playful mood. One minute she was trotting behind Zuko, the next she was bounding off after imaginary prey. Then she stalked the teen himself, head cocked sideways and back arched, she made a mock charge at the boy before sprinting away again. Anko couldn't help but smile at the foxcat's antics. Zuko, she noticed, was not smiling, but scowling. Anger was evident in his stiff posture and pace. Great. Just what I need is more attitude.
Misha reached her first, easily outpacing the firebender. Her traveling companion being so unresponsive, the foxcat twined herself around Anko's legs, purring loudly. Smiling, the farmer shouldered her axe; she knew what the cat wanted. With a simple gesture, she sent a small stone skipping across the field, the foxcat in happy three- legged pursuit. Misha had a lot in common with Zuko, Anko realized. She had found the foxcat as a kit in a trap, hind leg almost torn off by her struggling. Anko had been about to put a quick end to the poor creature's suffering, but something about the fierce look in the kit's green eyes had made her bring it home instead. She had to amputate the remains of the leg; she had fully expected the foxcat to die. Instead it had thrived, adapting easily to its new three legged status. Anko had spent a couple of days after that smashing every trap she found on her property under large boulders. She even made a special trip to Yopoko to announce loudly that she would do the same to anyone caught poaching on her land. It hadn't done anything to improve her popularity. Furs brought in good money during the winter months. Anko hadn't cared though.
The sound of Zuko clearing his throat attracted her attention away from Misha. This one too was suffering, from wounds she could see and ones she could only guess at. In his glaring eyes she could see the same will to survive that Misha had, a quiet sustaining strength that the boy probably didn't even realize was there. She turned to face him, calm enough now to take whatever he had to throw at her.
Zuko stood silently for a moment, glaring at the ground, arms crossed defensively across his chest. Anko raised an inquiring eyebrow at him. Despite the fact she knew he was a firebender, she found the teenager's posturing more amusing than threatening. Zuko's sun colored eyes met her black ones. He caught the hint of humor there and got even more pissed off. "You're an earthbender!" he accused.
Anko didn't bother hiding her sardonic smile. What on earth gave you that idea, she thought sarcastically, while sending Misha another pebble to chase. Aloud she said, "Yep. It comes in handy for farming. Old Max over there hasn't had to pull a plow in years." She planted her axe head into the chopping block. "I'm not the only one on the island either. There are about a half dozen earthbenders and maybe half of that into waterbending." She grinned at Zuko. "We're kind of a mixed breed."
The teenager's anger wasn't pacified by her blasé response. If anything, he got madder still. "You hate the Fire Nation!" he yelled, pointing an accusatory finger at her.
Who doesn't, she thought. "Aha, I thought you fell asleep a little quickly back there. You know, my Grandfather always used to say that people who listen in on other people's conversations rarely hear anything that pleases them."
Zuko glowered at her. "I want to know why!"
Anko sighed. "You want to why I hate the Fire Nation? Or why I've been helping you?" Anger abating slightly, Zuko nodded stiffly at her.
"Hmm." Anko stretched herself, and then moved into the shade. She sat down in the soft grass and remained silent. The Fire Nation teen stared at her impatiently, shifting his weight from foot to foot. Finally, with a frustrated growl, he joined her, sitting down a safe distance away. The older woman smiled at him approvingly before staring across her land to gather her thoughts.
"I come from a very long line of farmers;" she began slowly, "This land has been in my family for generations. In fact, my ancestors were among the very first to settle on Yopoko Island. Farming is a strong, proud family tradition. This," she gestured out across the land, "is who we are." "Earthbending, on the other hand, is one of those traits that occur only rarely, kind of like a blue-eyed firebender. One of the original farm founders had it, and my Great, Great, Grandmother, and my Father. He was an earthbender too. He wasn't particularly strong, or gifted at it, but as the first bender born in our family since the start of the war; he felt it was a sign."
"What do you mean; you want to be a soldier? I won't hear of it!"
"Father believed that his being an earthbender meant that he was destined to do more with his life than simple farming. He wanted to join the Earth Kingdom's army, to do some "real good." My Grandfather was furious. He said Father was turning his back on hundreds of years of family tradition.
"If you want to help the Earth Kingdom armies so much, then use your skills to put food in their stomachs and clothes on their backs! Running off and getting yourself killed won't help any one!"
"They argued about it for months. In the end, Father left for the mainland, leaving me in my Grandparent's care. I was only eight at the time. Grandpa said it was disgraceful, that only a coward would shirk his duties to his family and run off like that."
"I don't care if you are the strongest bender on the island. It wouldn't matter to me if you were the bloody Avatar reincarnate! You're not going and that's final!"
"When I was twelve, we received notification of his death." Anko's voice took a slightly bitter turn. "We were assured that he had died with honor…With honor, on some far off battlefield no one had ever heard of, fighting a meaningless battle no one will ever remember. A proper soldier's death, just like hundreds of thousands before him, and who knows how many more to come."
Zuko looked over at her, "What do you mean? You should be proud. Your father fought and died for the country he loved. There is no dishonor in that."
"Spoken like a true Fire Nation soldier," Anko said wryly. "But as a twelve year old child, all I knew was that my father was gone and he was never coming back. When you're a child, it's easy to see things in simplistic terms. Right or wrong, good or evil; people and events are judged and categorized quickly and easily. It never occurred to me to put part of the blame on my father, for deliberately placing himself in harm's way. I never thought to be proud, like you just said, that he had lived and died doing what he believed was right. I never reflected on how many Fire Nation children would never see their fathers again, because of actions by my own."
"I'm fourteen; I can be a soldier if I want. You can't stop me."
"Killing Fire Nation soldiers isn't going to bring him back."
"No, I was twelve, my father was dead, and it was the Fire Nation that had killed him. It was as simple as that. And for a while… for a long time… I was very, very angry. And I focused all that rage solely on the Fire Nation."
"Can't you see, can't you understand Grandpa? It hurts! I can't take it anymore. I can't keep going on planting the fields and harvesting the crops like nothing ever happened. I just want to do something, anything, to make the pain go away."
"If you had come here back then, well… Anyways, that was a long time ago, before you were even born. I like to think I've grown up a little since then."
"I know that it hurts. But only time can take that away. You'll see things differently when you're older. You're a farmer Anko. Just like me, just like…"
"My Father? Sorry Grandpa, but my mind is made up. I've waited for two years now. I have to go; I need to do this."
"I forbid it. Do you hear me? I've already endured the loss of my son, how dare you ask me to suffer losing my granddaughter as well."
"It's the Fire Nation that will suffer. I'm going to make them pay for what they've done. And it's not just for Father. It's for all the other people out there not lucky enough to be born on a neutral island. I'm a strong bender. I can make a difference; I know I can."
"Fool! I thought I raised you better than this! I never dreamed I was raising such a stupid, stubborn child. Fine! If you want to be so selfish, so be it. If you walk out that door, don't you even think about coming back. Ever. Do you hear me? Walk out that door and I have no Grandchild. You have no home here!"
It was the last living memory she had of her Grandfather. His kind, craggy face, distorted in a warped mask of sorrow and anger as he yelled at her. By the time Anko had returned to the Island, he had already passed on.
Anko closed her eyes with a sigh. It was amazing how poignant and strong some memories remained, even after the passage of time. She held her hand out palm down over the fertile soil, a small rock obediently jumping up into it. She closed her hand, crushing it into dust. The fine powder slipped from her finger, caught and carried by the wind out across the field. Sorry, Grandpa, she thought silently for the umpteenth time since leaving home.
The sound of another person's sigh caught her attention. Anko realized that she had been silent for a while, lost in her own memories. She glanced at Zuko, whose own eyes were distant as he looked our over her farm. The boy sighed again, and stirred. "Did… did he ever forgive him? Your Grandfather, your father, I mean. Did he ever forgive him?"
Anko blinked, a little surprised at the question. "Grandfather didn't talk much about Father after he left but, I think he did. I know he did." I know he forgave Father because he forgave me. Didn't you, Grandpa? That's why you willed this farm to me. So no matter how long it took, I'd always have a place to come home to.
Zuko looked at her. "And you don't hate the Fire Nation anymore?"
"I'm certainly not fond of the Fire Nation," Anko answered honestly. "But I don't single-mindedly despise every firebender I see anymore. Most of you are exactly like my Father. Simple soldiers, doing your jobs."
Zuko frowned, thoughtfully this time. "That still doesn't explain why you helped me."
The farmer smiled a little. "Ah, yes… that." Given the time to think about it, Anko could come up with many logical reasons behind her motives to help the boy. Most of them having nothing to do with the teen himself. But at the time… "I helped you because it was the right thing to do. You know how sometimes you just react to a situation, follow your heart and instincts and hope it turns out alright? That's what I did. And here you are." She looked pointedly at the teen, "You can understand that, right?"
Zuko's hand came up to unconsciously touch his Agni Kai scar, before he jerked it and his gaze guiltily away. "I guess…"
Anko regarded him silently as he looked away. At some point during their conversation his invisible burden had come back to rest on his shoulders. Gone was the proud, tall warrior with the flashing accusatory eyes; in his place was a forlorn teenaged boy, slowly collapsing in on himself under the weight of his own thoughts. She cocked her head slightly, trying to think of what had been said that would have affected such a transformation.
So that was it then. Anko didn't want anything from him and she wasn't trying to use him. Once again he had acted impulsively and once again he had been wrong. Zuko could feel the dark empty hole inside of him. It sucked away at his very being. It whispered to him that he would never be forgiven, never again be allowed to return home. If only I had kept my mouth shut, like I promised Uncle. If only I hadn't spoken up so quickly. Uncle would have challenged the other General's plan, I'm sure of it. His Uncle. Zuko was struck by another bout of loneliness. Iroh could be so frustrating, so irritating at times, but Zuko would give anything to hear his voice again. The Prince sighed. He was no fool. Despite all of Iroh's promises, if the Firelord forbid it, the old man would never return for him. No one went against the Firelord, not even his brother. And even if his Father did allow it, Zuko still had a while to wait. With a heavy heart, he stirred.
"My Uncle…" the boy said softly, so softly Anko had to strain to hear. "It may be a while before my Uncle comes for me… If he comes for me." The last was spoken so softly that Anko almost missed it.
"Your Uncle ever give you reason to doubt him before?"
The teen mutely shook his head.
"So why start now? Look, boy, my offer stands. Stay here or go, that's your choice. But whatever you decide, let me give you a little advice. Planning for the future is fine; worrying about the future is pointless. And sometimes, sometimes the best thing to do is to take each day as it comes and deal with it accordingly. Sometimes that is all we can do."
Anko heaved herself off the ground, brushing loose bits of weed and dirt off of her. "If you want something to do with yourself, if you feel up to it that is, go down to the river and catch us some fish for dinner. Despite what some people may say, there are some things I happen to cook very well. And I can grill up a fish as good as any one."
Zuko also stood up, looking at the farmer a bit confused. "Fish?" he queried.
"Sure," Anko grinned at him, "see the river?" She pointed to the tree surrounded riparian strip that came down from the mountains, winding its way through the valley and passing to the east of her house. "There's tackle in the barn, just inside the door on the right." She grabbed hold of her axe and jerked it free of the chopping block, hoisting it with ease to rest on her shoulder. "After all, I wouldn't want to deprive a growing boy his meat. But only if you feel up to it, it has been a long day."
The Prince recognized a polite dismissal when he heard it. He looked down at the river. Zuko had actually only been fishing a couple of time. Mostly with his Uncle, but once, when he was very young and the Firelord had a few moments to spare him, his Father had taken him fishing. It was a cherished memory. He smiled a little and turned to go.
"Hey Zuko?" Anko called after him. "Take Misha with you. If she keeps teasing Max like that she'll lose another leg." The foxcat, bored with the humans, had taken up stalking the mule's swishing tail.
"Um, come on Misha. Let's go." Zuko called a little awkwardly. He was surprised when the red cat actually trotted after him.
Anko hid a mischievous smile as she set up another log. I wonder if I should warn the boy about how much Misha likes fresh fish. Oh well, I'm sure he'll figure it out soon enough. Anko swung the axe with renewed vigor. If I hurry I can get this wagon loaded and down to the woodshed and still have time to stuff another mattress for the boy before dark.