Hello!! I would like to thank all the people who have reviewed, especially to the anonymous Claria and her rousing questions that make me think real hard and go "Owee." Thank you, you guys, and here's the fifth chapter….after the disclaimer.

Disclaimer: If I did own ATLA, I would have a Jacuzzi filled with chocolate pudding….mmmm, pudding….

Nice house, she thought to herself as she made her way towards it.

"Never been a fan of white, but still…,"

She stopped where the grass rose almost up to her knees. Katara gazed down at it.

"He should have mowed before I got here. Now it's going to be like this forever."

She dropped her hand from her hip and let her fingers graze the tips of the grass.

An electrical shock seemed to shoot through her body when she made contact. Her vision contorted and her mind was screaming and thrashing against her skull. Pictures replaced her consciousness; pictures she didn't recognize.

A little girl.

She was, running.

She was, laughing.

Her body was almost consumed by the length of the grass as she ran.

Her dress kicked up behind her as her feet pounded the ground.

She had to get away and yet, she was not afraid to be caught.

You could see it in her eyes…

And how she smiled.

A voice.

She spun to meet it.

She was caught, but she was still smiling.

For she was not afraid.

She was happy.

Her lips slowly parted to greet the voice,

To say their name.

Their name……

Katara jumped back into reality with a blinding headache.

She moaned and reached out to touch her forehead. She paused when she noticed that it was covered in dirt.

She looked up. Nothing but blue skies and the graceful flow of the wind.

She looked down. She didn't have far to go.

The ground. She was laying on the ground.

"It seems you and I are becoming fast friends."

She sighed and gently pushed herself off the ground before climbing to her feet.

Katara wiped the dirt from her palms on the side of her pants.

Who was that? More importantly, what was that?

These…visions are becoming more and more frequent. What is happening to me?

She pulled her fingers through her hair while simultaneously leaning backwards and cracking her tense muscles.

It didn't matter. She didn't have time for this.

Her body stood erect and grasped the hilt of her sword.

It was time.

Katara moved through the grass while avoiding contact with her hand.

She needed to focus. Not to be electrocuted by some grass.

Katara closed her eyes.

Time to go into the mode

The assassin raised her head and opened the screen door.

She knocked…and waited.

No reply.

She knocked again.

Still, no response.

She leaned forward and gently pressed her ear against the door.

Oh yes, there was movement.

Her hand tightened on her sword and she took a step back.

She waited.

The assassin ignored the soothing and gentle touch of the breeze.

She ignored the relaxing tinkle of the chimes overhead.

She ignored the occasional moan from the aging rooftop.

For these were normal sounds, everyday sounds.

She waited for that one sound, that specific sound…

There!

The assassin swiftly pulled her sword from its sheath and turned to block the attack.

The object bounced off the metal and landed at her feet.

She frowned.

Was that……a boomerang??

The wind changed behind her.

She dropped low, narrowly avoiding the knife that sliced through the area where her head had been.

The assassin rolled and brought the sword down by her side.

There he was, her target.

He looked momentarily confused by her movements, but quickly recovered.

His eyes found hers.

"I knew you would come."

She remained silent. Silence was the key.

The porch creaked as she stood. She raised her sword to where it laid against her shoulder, like a gun.

He glared at her.

She watched his breathing.

He had no control. He was not regulating properly.

The way he held his weapon. It was mediocre at best.

It was too high and too far back behind his head.

The assassin tried to repress a grin.

This is too easy.

"You won't kill me, you know."

She looked him in the eyes once more.

She felt her jaw twitch.

Her target saw this and smiled victoriously.

"I'm better than you think I am. I am a trained warrior and I know exactly how to…,"

The assassin let his words fly aimlessly about her and gave his body a once over.

Where was his weak spot?

Her vision was slightly darkened because of her sunglasses, but she was appreciative of their other uses. Confusion and lack of awareness were two.

Ah! His knees!

She gripped her sword even tighter as she focused back in on his words.

"….and I will be alive and having my midday snack." He still had that smile on his face.

"You, will never know the strength of a true wari…,"

Now!

The assassin lunged with the swords hilt aimed for his knees.

Caught off guard, he folded like a lawn chair and landed in a heap on the porch.

She stood over him, sword raised and ready to strike his heart.

She felt herself hesitate.

Wrong move.

Her target took this opportunity to swing his knife towards her right leg.

Suppressing a gasp she arched it back and jumped backwards to where she was out of his reach.

He rolled back and deftly pushed himself up to where he was crouching.

He grabbed his boomerang and threw it at her.

The assassin quickly disassembled it with three quick strikes with her sword, but he had completed his purpose.

Her target was now inside his house. His turf.

The assassin popped her knuckles, exhaled, then stepped inside.

xXx

It was completely dark.

Her sunglasses weren't helping, but she could not remove them. It was never safe to remove them.

Her eyes darted about the room, searching.

Her ears twitched to try and catch a noise, any noise that could be associated with a human being.

Fortunately, his floorboards were well kept and did not influence her hearing.

The assassin moved slowly, cautiously.

She thought briefly about searching for a light, then quickly rejected it.

Her target had turned out the lights for a reason.

No way was she going to make his day by getting her hand blown off.

Her toe touched something and she paused.

She brought her sword down from her shoulder and brought the point downwards.

It touched the object and sunk down.

It was only his couch.

The assassin kept moving.

She trailed her sword against the left wall without making scraping noises.

Her sword soon hit air.

She turned to her left and felt a sudden heat press down on her coming from an upwards angle.

She had come upon his stairs.

The assassin placed her sword on each step before placing her foot on them.

It was so quiet and for the first time, the assassin felt wary.

When she came to the top step, she felt a quick breeze to her right.

She grinned.

The assassin lifted her sword towards her face while pulling a lighter from her back pocket.

She pressed her body up against the left wall.

She twirled her sword with one hand and flicked on the lighter.

Her target's frightened face was momentarily illuminated in the darkness.

Got ya

He was slightly quicker than expected and lunged towards her, his knife raised high.

He was quick, but she was quicker.

The assassin slid out of his way and his momentum hurled him towards the stairs.

With his back to her, she kicked him and he tumbled down, headfirst.

As he fell, she slowly began to descend as well, her sword once more placed precariously on her shoulder.

When he reached the bottom she flicked off her lighter. There wasn't a need for it anymore. She knew exactly where he was.

She could feel the heat radiating off his body as he lay motionless.

The assassin leaned down to make sure the man was no longer a threat.

His fist swung upwards towards her face.

Apparently, he still was.

Though she reacted quickly enough that he didn't hit her, the force from the blow made her lose her balance and she fell back on the stairs.

She gave an "ompf!" as her head collided with the stairs. Her glasses were thrown from her face and she blinked from disorientation.

The assassin could feel him standing up. She knew his knife was raised.

As her hand traveled the floor with to find her dislodged sword, her eyes somehow connected with his.

He gasped right when she found her sword.

She twisted it and drove it right through his abdomen.

He gasped again as he dropped his knife and began to back away.

His hand must have slid along the wall and flicked on the light for the house was illuminated. He tripped against the couch and fell over the back before tumbling on to the floor.

The assassin walked around the couch to find her target holding his stomach, his face contorted in a mask of pain.

His mouth dribbled blood as he grasped her sword and tugged.

She stood over him and withdrew the sword with a sickening sliding sound.

The assassin wasted no time and placed the already bloodied sword beside his neck.

He looked up at her. His body was a horrid mess. He held his stomach in a sad attempt to lessen the flow, but to no avail. Blood was already beginning to pool beneath him.

It was time to put him out of his misery.

She arched her sword back, ready to swing.

He raised up his free hand as his body jerked and his chest heaved.

"Wa…..wait…plea….," his words were cut off by the blood that clogged his throat.

The assassin gripped the hilt so tight she thought she might break it.

"I'm sorry."

His guttural sounds were silenced by the slash of her sword, and the house was silent once more.

xXx

Katara wiped her sword clean on the couch.

She tried to avoid the man's lifeless eyes that had remained open despite decapitation.

Instead, she let her eyes wander to his weapon.

She tilted her head, curious about it's design.

For it was a knife, but not just any knife.

The edges were covered by some sort of teeth.

It looked very old. Must be some sort of heirloom.

She turned away from his body and went back towards the stairs.

Her glasses were on the second step.

Katara picked them up, wiped them, then placed them back on her face.

She flicked off the lights as she made her way out of the house.

As she closed the screen door, she sighed.

Maybe this kill would be enough for Azula.

This man had not been rich or influential and he didn't seem the type to ever associate with the likes of Azula or her father.

Katara sheathed her sword as she walked down the porch.

The young man from the tea shop briefly flashed through her mind.

Katara smiled, then grimaced.

What she had said to him earlier had been the truth. She didn't want him hurt.

She groaned.

When had she started to care? And yet….

Katara shook her head and started to run. She needed to get back to the office on time, or…

She shuddered and touched her necklace

The grass slapped her legs, as if admonishing her for the deed she had just committed.

For some reason, she didn't feel too good about it herself.

She felt….sick.

Katara grasped her stomach and kept running.

She really hoped that it was enough.

For the first time in a long time, when she had said sorry to her target…

She had actually meant it.

Whew! Well, the ending didn't go exactly how I wanted it to, but…considering the fact I just sit down and start typing, I think it's okay, or, I hope it is. I would probably write another chapter but I have somewhere to be today. I hope it was good and I didn't just kill any desire to keep reading! Review, pleaaaze!