Aang leaps backwards on instinct.
A thick, briny scent like seaweed fills his nostrils. He blinks opens bleary eyes to find heavy shapes swirling and shifting around him. They ripple and roll through each other like waves in a storm. Waves. It feels like water, but he can breathe. He tries to blink away his disorientation. He has been here before. It's a vast ocean of fog, the very same one he came to on his first day travelling into the Spirit World to search for clues about the cause of the earthquake.
But something is different. When he examines his surroundings, he realises there's a glaring discrepancy from his last visit. No creature peeks out of the fog, or floats towards him with colourful fins swishing. He sees none of the little spirits that had helped him, that had told him where to go and where he was and how to find the namazu.
Spotting the shape of the distant peaks of mountains, he knows it's the same place, but today it is barren save for the monstrous shape in front of him, even though his memory tells him how much brighter and filled with life it was before.
A great roaring noise brings him to his senses.
The namazu stirs its whiskers - long, slick black tendrils each the size of Aang's body - slowly in the mist.
"You finally came to see me, Avatar." A statement, not a question. Aang can't tell if he's actually being spoken to, because the humongous protruding face of the creature doesn't move. He expected something low, but the voice that reverberates in his head is sharp, like a scraping sound. The namazu watches him with a bored expression.
"I was having trouble," Aang says, and his own voice seems to float too, strange in his ears. "Why are you causing the earthquakes?"
The creature grunts. "Me? I'm only trying to get comfortable," it says. The monstrous fin along its belly sweeps the blackened fog, as if to make a point, sending a brackish surge in Aang's direction.
"You caused a huge earthquake here. Just weeks ago," Aang says, standing tall and straight even as the fog obstructs his senses. In his limited experience, mighty Spirits tend to respond well to shows of confidence.
"Weeks?" the creature muses.
Aang feels impatient, tries to calm himself. Weeks, it wouldn't know. Right. There's a keen sense of panic that he can't shed, though his mind is hazy as to why. He looks at his hands; he can see the water right through their translucence.
Why the panic?
He forces himself to think through the fog seeping in his brain, catching glimpses of the physical world, until he remembers. 'Just… just now, I think, there was another one."
He was with Katara. Was she okay? He has to get back soon.
The creature grumbles noncommittally.
Aang works his foggy brain. How long has this Spirit lived? What terms can he make it understand? He closes his eyes and tries to recall all the research. The namazu, a giant catfish-shaped creature said to curl up in the vast oceans of the Spirit World. Though it lives in the Spirit fog, it is bound to its form; it can only breathe and swim in physical oceans. It exists on the cusp, switching between them; like the Avatar, breaching the boundary between the worlds. All the stories in the Earth Kingdom and all the spirits say it is responsible for the earth shaking, though no one has seen the elusive creature long enough to figure out why.
"You said you need to breathe… to swim around? In the physical world?" But if that was its normal routine, how could it be suddenly responsible for something so catastrophic like an earthquake?
"Well, of course. You should not admonish me. The flow between our worlds was muted for a hundred years, trapping me on this side. Forgive me for taking a big stretch when I finally could."
"Wait. A hundred years?" Aang says, blinks his thoughts into clarity. That makes sense. "When I was under the ice, there was no Avatar for a hundred years. And it was only ten years ago, when I came back - so that was the first time you, uh..." he pauses, searching for the words, "moved around? In more than one hundred years?"
The namazu wriggles its whiskers, as if through impatience. Though Aang feels like he just had a crucial revelation, he senses the creature is getting more bored of the conversation by the minute.
"It's quite simple," it says, like a teacher explaining something to a particularly obtuse child, "I enjoy it when I get to swim around and breathe as I like. But when the exchange between the worlds is low, I am confined to my spot, until I can't take it anymore. Then I must adjust myself on reflex, whether it is a gentle process or not."
"So… what you're saying is, when the worlds are connected, you move around more easily? And the more frequently you get to move, the smaller the earthquakes?"
The namazu bobs its head in a great nod. Relief washes over Aang just like the rolling purple fog displaced by the movement. That's it. That makes complete sense.
"I have another question," Aang says quickly, emboldened by the creature's nonchalance. Aang senses that it is well aware of what earthquakes entail, so he doesn't push his luck. Spirits truly are amoral creatures. "Why is it so dark and quiet here? What happened to all the other Spirits?"
Another swish of its tail and a confused grunt.
"The surroundings we see are of our own making," the creature says. "What is in your mind you will see manifest in this world." Right, Aang knows that. He figures that the namazu itself must be a thousand times bigger than it's showing itself as for Aang's benefit.
"So why is everything so grey?"
"You tell me, Avatar. I am feeling just fine."
Katara needs to know.
The ceremony is almost over, with only a few people left sitting around the tables in the middle of the hall, talking in hushed tones as their tiredness from a long night takes over. Aang converses idly with a still-drunk, but subdued, Katara. He doesn't feel too clear in the head himself, but something has been weighing him down tonight that's beyond the reach of any whiskey. Katara picks up little pieces of sugared sweets from an ornate tray in the middle, one by one, and eats them. Her hair is somewhat dishevelled from the dancing, stray locks falling in front of her face. She pauses occasionally to brush the strands behind her ear, though not so carefully that they don't fall out again. Whenever the conversation stills - slow, giggly musings on the business plan of the new Cabbage Corp back home being the topic right now - Aang's mind returns to one thing.
He has to tell her.
He can't really think of any compelling reason to convince himself why he shouldn't, no matter how much he wants to run from the idea of upsetting his relationship with Katara. There is a breaking point somewhere with Zuko - one he definitely came close to tonight - beyond which lies a useless kind of heartache that Aang doesn't want to suffer. It just wouldn't make sense to. He can feel it, with Zuko, it's all there, and it hasn't ever gone away.
It really is awful to keep seeing him like this. If even a bored Spirit can sense Aang's unease, something has to be done.
If Katara knew, would she care? Sometimes Aang wonders - does she know? He watches her try to tuck a strand of hair back into her hair grip, and miss, before reaching behind and doing it himself. Katara glances up; a sheepish smile of thanks.
Would she think it was too much? Or would she see it the same way she herself loves Zuko: plainly, deeply, in a way Aang can sympathise all too well with but at the same time borne from their unique experience.
He saw them together that evening of the festival. Saw her. Katara hasn't been able hide her emotion from him for years, and it feels odd, foreign, to know that she was trying to. He almost brought it up the morning after, but he chickened out at the last minute. The notion that they're hiding from each other over this hovers in his mind like an impossible kind of release - too impossible, maybe. He needs to keep himself together. There are more important things - like making sure he and Katara don't end up hurting each other, or Zuko.
"Where's Zuko?" she says suddenly, sitting upright.
Aang coughs. Caught red-handed. "He went to see off the Mayor," he says. But it's been a while since he left. "Maybe he's walking her to her building?"
Katara raises her brows in exaggerated surprise. "Who would have thought that Zuko would end up so good at… etiquette?"
Aang rolls his eyes and grins. "At sucking up to the Mayor?"
Katara stops in the middle of plopping a sweet into her mouth to shake her head at him. "Oh, why do you care? You've had your chance to impress them," she says, eyes twinkling.
"I did impress them," Aang says. With honours from the mayors of both towns to show for it - as awkward as it was to smile along to what felt like hours of profuse flattery from the Mayor of Bakai when he returned from the Spirit World. Zuko definitely got the good end of the bargain when it came to their hosts.
He picks out a stray lock of hair and pokes her cheek with it, putting on a hard frown and an offended tone. "Why are you taking his side? You've been doing that all night."
Katara sighs. "Let that go. Just because I danced with him more than you doesn't mean I'm on his side. He's the guest of honour," she says, smirking. "Besides, you saw how terrified he was. I wanted to teach him."
Aang narrows his eyes and says, "Whatever. You just wanted him all to yourself."
A statement strange enough to test the waters. Aang tries to keep his heartbeat steady.
"Maybe I did, since you're always running off with him," Katara says easily. The sly smile she tries doesn't hold, and after a moment, they're both giggling.
She slides her foot under the table towards Aang, clearing her throat. "I had a discussion with the other healers. Most of them are leaving next week, but we talked it over tonight - while you were hoarding Zuko, I might add - and I'm going to head off a few days earlier. I want to get to the conference of healers in the North so I can participate in the bloodbending discussions, before they start officially."
Aang sits up at this. "Do you know what your stance is going to be?"
"I think so," Katara says firmly, sounding remarkably not inebriated all of a sudden. "They were right." She looks directly at him, but her eyes feel far away. "It doesn't have to be dangerous. And it doesn't feel as- as wrong as I remembered," she adds quietly.
Aang swallows. He might be imagining the way she emphasises that, but most likely not.
"So, if I've only got a couple of days left here, why don't we go somewhere tomorrow? We haven't explored this part of the Earth Kingdom. We could catch up, just me and you."
Catch up.
There's a brief commotion at the entrance. Aang nods his understanding, meeting her imploring eyes - the best they can do before the object of their veiled discussion returns.
"What did I miss?" Zuko says.
"Katara just said she's had enough of you, so we're going to get out of here and go on a day trip tomorrow," Aang replies.
Zuko, a second out of sync from carrying out formalities, says, "Uh, what?"
Aang laughs brightly and kicks out a seat for him with a deft gust of air. Zuko sits. Katara leans forwards on her elbows and immediately engulfs him in conversation. Aang takes a turn at the desserts. He eats and watches them, Katara ribbing at Zuko's manners around the Mayor and Zuko rebuffing her comments with remarkable ease now that he's caught up with their teasing remarks. His hair is a little messy like Katara's, dark strands escaping the elaborate ponytail thing.
Aang wants so much to just brush those pieces back in place. Or simply kiss the smile off his face. Either would be nice.
But this whole situation is a delicate balance. Zuko deserves better than idle drunken advances. And Katara sure as hell deserves a proper explanation. He slumps back into his chair and watches them talk, Katara's hands making animated gestures on the table. Zuko's eyes glance down at them occasionally.
They all need to be able to talk about whatever's going on here.
The next morning, Aang visits the Council in Daoshu one final time before heading down to pick up Katara. The councilmen take copious notes about everything he recounts - pinpointing the source of the earthquakes seems to be a great relief for them all, but nothing Aang found out was more valuable than the Spirit's insistence that smaller earthquakes prevented larger ones - several of their geologists thanked him personally for that piece of information.
With his job done, Aang has no plans except a long day of exploring with Katara. It's something they do whenever they have the chance to be together, in whatever part of the world they find themselves in. Aang remembers the way they met - penguin sledding practically before any sort of real introduction - and exploring with Katara gives him the same giddy feeling as it always has. They take Appa on a ride over the town, stopping to marvel at everything, from something as small as a street bender or a pretty garden to whole festivals and earthbending tournaments. They stop at the hamlets in the outskirts of Daoshu Province to eat traditional food, Katara's unquenchable delight at fresh-caught koi making Aang's measly option of yet more sauteed vegetables worth it. Aang wishes there were elephant koi in this part of the Earth Kingdom so they could have some real fun. By late afternoon, they've ventured outwards into the mountains, Appa lazily circling the area for somewhere to land.
"I know a place around here with a beautiful view," Aang says. He tries to recall the route he followed Zuko on a few weeks ago, leading them into the secluded outcrop on the mountainside. The towns below are just as beautiful as he remembered, if not prettier in the late afternoon sun, draping the tallest buildings and trees in deep golden light.
"Wow," Katara says as they land, sliding down Appa's tail and running to the edge for a better view. "This is incredible! I can even see the hospital." He watches her trace the route from one town to the next, the roads and buildings far away yet crisp. "When did you find this?"
"Zuko showed me," Aang says, dismounting Appa, who immediately makes himself comfortable on the cool stony surface in the shade of a tree and closes his eyes. Aang leans against him, shielding his eyes from the sun, watching Katara against the brilliant backdrop. "He brought me here, actually. A few weeks back, when I was having a hard time. He really cheered me up."
She straightens visibly. After a moment, she turns back to him, walking slowly into the shade. Aang tries to stop his heart picking up.
She sits opposite him, crossing her legs with care. "I… actually wanted to ask you about something. About Zuko."
"What is it?"
There's no way to escape it now that they've both stumbled into this conversation. Now that Aang brought her to this exact place. Maybe it's what he wanted.
In front of him, Katara releases a nervous breath, touching his knee with hers lightly. Maybe it's what she wanted.
He lets her gather her thoughts: Katara's eyes flit back and forth, clearly trying hard to figure out what she wants to say. While the seconds pass Aang can't help his mind run through a series of scenarios, confessions and contradictions.
Finally, she looks right at him, eyes sharp and clear as the sky, and says, "You love him, don't you?"
When Aang feels steady enough, untangling his sweating hands from a clump of Appa's fur, he lets out a measured breath. "Well, yeah."
There's a rising plea in Katara's eyes for a better answer than that. But oddly for her, it's not a demand. Aang reaches out his hand to where hers is resting between them, and gently grasps it. He knows they've been building to this, the two of them, from the way Katara suggested this excursion and if he's honest, probably for a lot longer than that.
Still, under her pressing gaze, it's hard to admit it when it comes down to it: the only thing about him Katara hasn't been allowed to know. "Don't you?"
Katara makes an aborted motion like she's about to sigh in frustration, but she catches herself, casting her eyes down - it's just not the answer she wanted. "Of course. But that's not what I meant, Aang." She presses on, her voice so earnest it's almost a whisper. "I had this feeling, when you woke up after you came back from the Spirit World, do you remember?"
Aang waits with bated breath.
"And Zuko was there with you...the look on his face - I thought he was going to -"
"To what?" Aang says, and it comes out too high, way too curious. But he knows what. He feels heat crawling up his neck. Katara looks almost painfully in thought again, but nothing worse than that. He squeezes her hand encouragingly.
"I almost thought you two would kiss," she admits, "You were just so..."
Aang stops short, his heart beating fast with the effort to comprehend a conversation that feels like it might escape out of his grasp. He's scared. "Katara?"
She looks up and Aang knows that she sees it in his eyes the moment she does. "It's okay," she says imploringly. "I've thought so for a long time, actually." She gets up, agitated, does one round of the clearing and sits back down. "I understand how you feel," she says, almost wringing her hands. "I love him so much. I love him so much, too. I've never felt like that about anyone. Except you."
Aang's head whips up to meet her eyes. The confusion flooding them reflects the wrenching feeling in his chest, and moments pass as they sit there in suffocating silence.
"Is that okay?" she whispers.
Aang feels dizzy. How could she think that? How could she say that to him, and not think the same applies to her? That he would -? It's crazy.
"What? Of course," he scrambles to say, and Katara puts both of her hands back in his, and Aang holds on tight, even though his hands are slippery. "Of course. I believe you."
At that, Katara throws her arms around his shoulders. Aang wraps his arms around her, feels the tremble of her breath under his hands, and talks, his mind reeling. "You know, the air nomads never thought that way about families. About who you love, I mean. It's not - it's not a big deal to me. I-I mean, it is- you are, but it's okay if you love him, because sometimes it just happens that way, and I-I do too, so much, Katara- I didn't think it-"
She shushes him with a hand around the back of his neck, and a gasp of laughter bubbles out of her, mercifully breaking the tension. Aang buries his head in her shoulder.
Aang is content to hold on to her. They've managed it - that impossible, unthinkable hurdle. After a moment, she squeezes him hard, pressing a small kiss against his cheekbone, before saying gently, "Well, who loved him first? You think we should battle it out for the Fire Lord's hand?"
It feels crazy to hear those words out loud. Aang cracks a smile. Playing tug of war with Zuko. Now that's absurd. He tells her as much, and they share a giggle. The laughter doesn't last, though, and for once, Aang doesn't want it to. This needs to be a serious conversation, enough to convey the seriousness of his intentions.
"What do you think we should do?"
Katara becomes pensive again. "I want to tell him," she says.
Aang smiles slowly at where this is going. It feels like a dream. Katara mirrors him with utter openness, miles away from her cagey demeanour at the start of this conversation.
"Do you think we could be- that we could all be… you know, together?" he says shyly.
Katara smiles again, the sun glowing in her reddening cheeks. "That would be nice."
Understatement of the year. The blush in her face tells him she agrees.
"He has to decide," she continues, "about what he wants to do with that information." Her voice betrays the nervousness she feels at the thought.
It feels so strange, and so good, to have his exact worries reflected back in her. But Aang thinks this is where he differs: he's felt for a long time like he can predict Zuko's reactions to things.
But even he's going to struggle to predict Zuko's reaction to this. This is unprecedented.
Katara worms her way under his arm, so she's leaning against Appa too. He's never been more grateful for her in his life, a thought that occurs with alarming regularity. Katara's hair skims against his face, as soothing as the breeze, as the gentle twilight falling over the valley and the buzz of the crickets far below. Appa rumbles comfortably, close to them.
"Let's go," Aang says, after a while. They stick close to each other on the journey back. Katara kneels along the edge of Appa's saddle, pointing out quirks in the landscape and up in the stars, but she always comes back to Aang, putting her arms around his waist and leaning against him. Appa grunts in recognition as he soars towards the city.
Aang entertains them both, scritching Appa's fur between the reins, leaning back into Katara's embrace so he can look up at the sky and see what she's talking about. This is the freest he has felt in a long time.