characters: aang, katara, zuko.
etc: i actually didn't have to do that much work for this, thank.
…
vi. evil runnin' through our brains
of learning the hard way
…
The sun is nearly done setting when Aang finds her sitting on the ridge of their mediation spot. Katara will never admit that she was wrong because there is still a wide-eyed child with bitter bones housed inside of her, a little girl who cries out for her mother and is met with sterile silence. It is a shame because that little girl cannot forgive because she does not understand, and the part of her with the power to overcome this has wedged a shard of hatred into the throat of the very person with the power to bring her to peace.
She is grateful when Aang settles down beside her silently. His eyes cling to the shape of her face in profile, the ratty tumble of her hair underneath the still glowing sun, the passive look in her eyes.
He coughs, and she tilts her head towards him. "We were able to reconnect with some of the more original firebending forms. Training will, um, be back to regular from now on."
Katara manages a weak smile and nod. "That's great, Aang."
The silence between them is painful, a prickly wave that sloshes between the two of them until they have no choice but to speak up and dispel the tension.
"Zuko wouldn't tell me what happened—"
"I'm not apologizing to him, Aang."
Her tone is dissonant and loud above the peaceable lilt of Aang's still childish voice and part of her burns with shame when he turns those naïve, cloudy eyes to her face, lined with the admiration and affection that is always dripping from his features. He is still so young, so impressionable, and the only child she will ever know to sleep through the hardships of living with such a pain of loss ingrained in their blood.
"You asked me to do this mediation and I agreed to do it for you. And maybe there were some times where I thought I could—I thought I might be able to—" She can't bring herself to speak anymore, because she knows better. She knows she was becoming comfortable, was learning, was watching Zuko unfurl from the enigmatic rival he'd once been in her life to someone human, someone who felt.
She thought she might be able to relate to him, and something inside of her told her that if she did, her pain would be neutralized by her forgiveness. (And though it hurt, it was her entitlement to pain, because the moment she stopped feeling that pain, it would be the moment she stopped fighting so passionately.)
"I can't do it anymore. And neither can he, and, Aang, you can't just force people to understand one another." Her eyes darken as she turns away from him, voice falling into a quiet whisper. "I could never understand him."
Her words seem to floor Aang because he is silent, but it doesn't afford him much time; something rustles from the edge of the cliffside, and Zuko leaps over the edge and falls down into a careful crouch to keep his balance.
Katara notices the way his eyes immediately avert from hers.
"I need to talk to you, Aang." There is some sort of reverence in his voice, but Katara doesn't care.
"I'm talking to him." She snaps, folding her arms across her chest.
As much as he may want to turn and look at her, he doesn't. His eyes, echoing the slice of sun still hanging in the sky, are fixed on Aang as if something vital hangs in the balance.
"You two need to talk more than anything," Aang says quietly, sadly. She hates the sadness because it is the only thing that tugs on her guilt more than the press of Zuko's strong hand against the curve of her cheekbone, threatening to crush her to dust.
"I have nothing to say to her."
That word pierces through her chest, sharp and jagged and painful. She is nothing, now, when she was afforded a wealth of patience and nervous glances and awkward blushes. She is nothing, but what wounds Katara the most is that the way he says nothing means that she once held the potential to be something.
"You think I want to talk to you after what you did?" Katara is on her feet before she can stop herself, but she immediately notices Aang's presence in front of her, keeping her away, truly mediating.
He barks out a laugh and Katara's blood turns over cold. "You have no right to be angry with me. This is what you wanted, Katara," he pronounces her name so elegantly that it is nothing more than a beautiful insult, "you wanted me to become that person you hate, again."
Aang's hands close around her wrists and it isn't until something cool trails down the sides of her legs that she realizes there was water lining the edges of her fingers, circling a furious rainstorm in the palm of her hand. His eyes are pleading, but something bubbles up in Katara, the urge to shove Aang away and freeze all of the blood around Zuko's heart until it bursts.
"You are that person! You'll always be that person! And I—" Maybe it is anger that brings her to tears, or frustration, or genuine pain, but she is too upset to know the true source. "I can't forgive you! I won't!"
Her eyes ache almost immediately with the force of holding back her tears, and Aang's hands feel so light against her wrists, and she feels more alone in that moment the sun sets on Zuko's glittering, starlight eyes.
"I'm not here for you," he says hotly, and Katara feels the first tear fall. She tries to scrub it away but Aang's grip on her wrists is not faint anymore, but a restraint to hold her in, a tether to hold her together. "I'm not going to beg for your forgiveness, Waterbender. If you hate me that much, if you can't find it within you to forgive me…"
She watches him, the cautious steps he takes away from her and Aang, towards the edge of the cliffside. She watches the clench of his teeth and the hard set of his jaw and the way his fingers curl into the heel of that hand and the phantom burn it left on her skin.
"…then I don't need you to."
Katara doesn't so much see him drop down from the edge of the cliff, back the way he came, as much as she feels the absence of tension. Aang's hand falls from around her wrist and he flicks open his palm to rest a flame in the center, and Katara can see the film of tears gleaming in her eyes.
Her tears fall quietly as she tries to blink them away, inhaling the silence and the heavy inference of Zuko's words, and when she exhales, Aang's arms are wrapped around her waist in comfort
…
notes: what inspired me to update so randomly? a guest review that really struck me in the feels, lol. i appreciate everyone's feedback, seriously. never stop reading, writing, doing what you love!