"Hey, Kiyoshi Island!" someone called. Aomine raised his head from punching ice, and turned.

Aomine knew Mako's right-hand man by sight, though he didn't really want to. Seto used too much hair gel and had shifty eyes. He didn't know the name of the boy shivering next to Seto, but Aomine knew his lightning-quick water whip, sharp enough to have left a scar in the wall of solid brick.

"Aomine, right?" said Seto. "Here's Ryou, say hi, Ryou."

"H-h-he-hello!" stammered Ryou.

Aomine jerked his head at them.

"We're going out on a job," said Seto. "Need someone who looks like he'll bite someone's head off for looking at him, and we think you fit the bill. Interested?"

"Rough work?" said Aomine.

"Nah, picking up the weekly loan payment from an establishment of note," said Seto. "Mako- yeah, you know Mako, runs this place- they owe Mako money and they're on a payment plan. We get to be the ones picking up the interest every week, and we do their takeout on the way." He paused.

Aomine shrugged his shoulders. "What's the take?"

"Fifty yuan," said Kentaro. "Fifty, for twenty minutes' work. We'll do a slow walk there and back, miss the crush. We'll even spot you lunch on the way. Whaddaya say, Aomine?"

Aomine's stomach thankfully did not choose this minute to gurgle. He felt the pull of it, though, the lure of not spending half his day's pull on the cheapest lunch he could weedle, and of fifty yuan to bring back. That could go into their pool, and Satsuki or Tetsu would find a use for it.

"Why me?" he said. "If it's such a good offer and I'm the new guy?"

Seto sighed. "Do you hate money," he said. "Look, we're all waterbenders here. And this is Republic City. We gotta look out for each other. Like Mako, there- you think Mako's rich? You think Mako's got a lot of money to throw around? Look at this place. It's a dump. But he spotted Narook's a loan when they needed some in a tight place and all he asks is a weekly payment so he himself doesn't starve to death."

"Fuck you too Kentaro," Mako called down from his seat up on the second floor, pleasantly.

"See?" said Seto. "He's so weak he can't even come down and kick my ass for talking smack about him." He turned back to Aomine. "This is Red Monsoon ground," he said. "We stick up for each other around here. You're new, you don't have steady work, you could use some jobs just until you find your feet. Honest work, honest pay."

"So I'm enough of a sad case you're taking me?" said Aomine.

"I'm also taking Ryou," said Seto, absolutely straight-faced. "All the hard cases. You in, or what?"

Aomine looked at Ryou's huge round eyes and shrugged. Fifty yuan and lunch. He wasn't getting a better deal today.

.0.

Kasamatsu paused and said, "Pro-bending?"

"Yes," said Kise, booming his voice so he could be heard. At their table alone, over a dozen people chattered over their food. The windows of the dining room had been opened to relieve the crush of people and through them the air bison calves and yearlings repeatedly and hopefully stuck their heads in attracted by the smell of food, then had to be blown back by whoever was unlucky enough to be sitting near the window. The process would be repeated all over again when the calf caught itself from tumbling head-over-heels though the air, and came whooshing back delighted with this new game. "Our team is called the Lion-dogs, and we're playing tomorrow night to get into the tournament. I'm earthbending. Ah, but you don't need to come. I know it's busy around here right now. We can save that for the championships."

"You," said Kasamatsu, not bothering to stop eating, "are an idiot."

Kise looked injured, which he was good at. "Why?" he said.

"The conference is coming up," said Kasamatsu. "You're supposed to be in attendance. You can't be in attendance if you're fighting half the night."

Kise shook his head. "These things always clear out for the night so that socialising and other such activities can happen," he said. "I wriggled out of the last one-"

"And then they came crying to me-" growled Kasamatsu.

"- so I know there's not going to be much happening," said Kise. "I can do it. There's no question. There's- sempai, how do you know when the tournament runs from?"

Kasamatsu coloured right up to his ears. "Everyone knows," he said.

"This is only the third year it's being run by Aida-san," said Kise. "It was different before. She told me so."

"I said everyone knows," said Kasamatsu.

"Sempai, are you a fa-" Kasamatsu made a short sharp jerk of his hand, and blew Kise's bowl into his face.

"I'm not," said Kasamatsu. "I just sometimes- the radio is on and I listen to it, that's all. Don't overthink it."

Kise brushed rice off his face and ate it. "We're going to keep it quiet that I'm the Avatar," he said.

Kasamatsu stared at him. Then he picked up Kise's free hand, turned it around, and smacked Kise in his arrow with his arrow. Kise yelped, rubbing his forehead. On Kasamatsu, as well on Kise, the arrow tattoos signifying mastery of the art glowed a bright blue on the backs of both his hands and on his forehead. They ran the length of his back and arms and they rendered an airbender instantly recognisable. A number of Air Nomads, non-benders by birth, would never wear the mastery tattoos but lived and died in the air on the Air Bison who wore the same arrows in their fur. Kasamatsu had gotten his at sixteen, and had been considered a prodigy.

Kise had gotten his at ten.

"The uniforms cover the hands and head," said Kise, in answer to this. "This is Republic City. I can pass for earthbender here, sempai." If they hid his tattoos, he meant. Airbenders no longer shaved their heads completely, not even the guys, and under Kise's fringe and a pro-bending safety helmet, the arrow would be much less noticeable.

"People aren't stupid," said Kasamatsu. "Your face is on the half the noodle packets in this city. You aren't going to keep it a secret."

"It'll be troublesome if a lot of people knew," said Kise.

"Your friends from that time know about this?" said Kasamatsu. "Aren't you staying with them?"

"They're in the team with me," said Kise. "We've been training at night."

Kasamatsu rolled his eyes. "Of course they are," he said. "Are you guys actually any good?"

"Probably," said Kise, and smiled. "I'm a good bender, sempai, you know that. And they're good, too. Avatar Korra did it, it worked out for her."

Kasamatsu said, "Winning isn't just about bending. And your past lives don't have relevance to your own choi-"

Kise sighed and looked out the window, to where Hayakawa was awkwardly bouncing a calf up and down, trying to help her get over her fear of flying more than a foot off the ground. His hair fell over his eyes and gleamed in the noonday sun. "But what is?" he said, ignoring that last part.

This time, Kasamatsu hit him with the table.

.0.

Narook's Noodles wasn't the seedy little dive Aomine had been expecting from the Red Monsoon's dilapidated gym, but a busy, chattering restaurant running over with customers. Apparently there was no longer an actual Narook, but the tourists liked the name and the history. Tetsu liked Water Tribe food and occasionally made a go of cooking it, which involved way too much seaweed and blubber for Aomine to stand it more than once a month, but Aomine slurped up two bowls without pausing when Seto got them led to a table in the middle of lunch rush and told the waitress to get them whatever they wanted. From where they were sitting, they could see the long open kitchen through the window, and the smell tugged at Aomine's stomach. Brine-broth and seawood noodles; it smelled a little like home.

Aomine paused in the middle of his third bowl to survey the restaurant. It was a mixed bag of people. Clerks from the offices one street over ate like they only had five minutes to do it in. Aomine and Ryou didn't look out of place in their rough clothes in a crowd of workers. There was even a Fleet soldier in the brilliant red jacket and impractical white pants. Aomine had seen the huge gleaming battleships before, and Auntie Li's oldest had gone off to enlist when he turned eighteen, but Kiyoshi Island didn't see much of them otherwise. Ryou unfroze enough during the meal to offer some conversation; born and raised in Republic City- "Triple Threat territory," said Ryou, and when Aomine blinked at him added, "Up by Dragonflats," as though that meant anything.

"Not in the Triple Threats, then?" said Seto, dumping another load of fire-spice on his leftover soup.

Ryou paled then, twitching visibly. "N-n-no," he said. "I mean- waterbenders have to stick together, right? Right?"

"So right," said Seto, then slurped it all up. "You boys sit here and look full. I'll talk to the owner and get us paid for today."

Aomine nudged Ryou once Seto was gone. "Triple Threats?" he said.

Ryou nodded. "They're all three," he said. "Except airbenders. Because airbenders are pacifists. I mean, they take all three benders. Not they are all three benders. That would make them the Avatar. Not that the Avatar would- the Threats- they- um-"

Aomine took pity on him and changed the subject. "You do much work for Mako?" he said.

"Guard-work," said Ryou. Aomine stared. Ryou didn't look like he could scare off a cold. "But I'm- I'm trying- Seto-san took us- we're just-"

A bowl shattered on the floor. Customers looked up sharply. Seto backed out of the kitchen slowly, eyes fixed on the bubbling hot soup floating in front of him. "Look," he was saying, reasonably, "You want to renegotiate the terms of your contract, you just talk to Mako, right? Don't scald the messenger-"

Aomine moved. One sweep of his arm and he had the ribbon of soup under his control, flicking it back into the face of the cook- who cursed the Red Monsoons- and then out again well above all their heads without spilling a drop. Customers scattered. Since this was Republic City, some of them took their noodles with them as they went.

Seto must have been preparing his strike; he flung ice shards at the cook hard enough to pin him to the wall of the kitchen, freezing the cook to the sink while he was at it. He stalked back into the kitchen. Shouts began to echo out of the tiny cramped space as Ryou stood and peered into the kitchen.

Aomine was about to follow Seto in to find a place to dump the soup. No trouble, his ass. Ryou's shout was the only warning he had when a huge gush of water roared out of the kitchen, washing all of them away- Seto and Ryou into the street, and Aomine straight into the counter, missing every other customer and solidifying around his arms and legs.

Aomine looked up and into bespectacled green eyes, the waterbender- the other waterbender- adjusting his specs as he straightened out of his stance. Aomine struggled against the ice bonds, but they were strong. Flawless, in fact. No one Aomine had met so far in Republic City froze ice like this, in memory of the floating mountains of the sea. This guy wasn't any ordinary bender.

"Going somewhere?" said the other boy, cooly.

Aomine flexed his hands just right and the ice collapsed. This guy hadn't frozen the water around his hands to immobilise his fingers. Aomine would make him regret that.

"Nah," said Aomine, and dragged all the water in the restaurant up with him as he stood, shifting it around him, around them, whirling it as the Fleet Soldier who'd been eating with that guy eeped and began to usher the few customers left out of the restaurant. "I think that's going to be you."

.0.

Takao evacuated the civilians- nice words for getting the hell out of Shin-chan's way- and looked around for the two Midorima had doused out of the restaurant before getting into it with the big one. Shin-chan would wrap him up in two seconds; Takao was more concerned for if there were any more gangsters around. The Red Monsoons liked to run in packs, and any group of waterbenders was a bad proposition. Waterbenders were co-operative by nature. Midorima was supposed to be good, but a few of them working in tandem could probably overwhelm him fighting by himself, and Takao had a sinking feeling about response time out by Narook's at lunch. The police weren't going to be here any time soon.

They were just sitting up, rubbing their heads, and gaping into the restaurant. Takao turned his head- Shin-chan, how was Shin-chan doing- and gaped.

Shin-chan and the third guy tore at each other. That was the only word Takao could think of to describe it, and he'd seen waterbenders go at it pretty hard before, one-on-one sparring in the fleet training grounds, nothing barred but death. The third guy continually sent out lashing whips to attack Shin-chan, and Shin-chan countered with shots of deadly force, hard enough that when the other fighter let one pass rather than absorbing or deflecting it, it punched a hole right through the entire length of the register counter- and the projectiles were liquid, not ice. If Midorima was unyielding and cautious in attack then his opponent was his opposite, bending everything at once, everywhere at once, sliding his entire offense to the side, turning it to defense in the next moment. Takao had never seen anyone fight like that. And he had known that Midorima was supposed to be good in combat, but never seen anyone drive him to this furious focus. It was an ever-changing stalemate, and it seemed for long endless moments that the whole world stopped to stare.

Sirens broke the sound of rushing water. Midorima and the other guy jerked out of their stances and let their water drop at the impossibly loud noise, coming in fast. It shook the other Red Monsoon thugs out of their shock. They raced forward as the battlefield began to drain of water to grab their friend by the arms and shout at him to- Takao couldn't hear, he couldn't hear anything but that damn siren- and drag him off with them. Midorima tried to step forward to stop them, but their leader- the one who had gotten into it first with MIyaji-san- raised a quick sweeping wall of water, some kind of clever trick, and when Midorima had whipped clear of it they were gone, probably out through the kitchens.

Other people on the street were also trying to get clear, with no such luck. Metalbenders swung down from the newly arrived airship, and on the same cables followed the other officers, marked with the coloured sashes of their elements, or electric gloves fitted tight to their hands. Sighing, Takao put his hands on his head and sat down. This would probably take hours to sort out. See if he ever listened to Shin-chan again about where to go for lunch.

.0.

They went underground to escape the sirens, moving though what Seto called Red Monsoon Secret Tunnels that were really just sewers usually too flooded for people to move through, though Seto assured them people did live down here, if they had nowhere else to go.

They would have to have nowhere else to go, thought Aomine. It was the fucking sewers. He had no idea where they were going, but Ryou at least seemed to have some idea.

Shit. Aomine hadn't had a fight like that in years.

They emerged somewhere near the park and rinsed off with pond-water, then separated. Seto told them to both stay clear of the gym for a while- "Waterbenders fighting, they'll roust every damn waterbender in town who doesn't have the money to buy their innocence." - and go home. Aomine slunk back to the arena and slept for the afternoon until Kiyoshi poked his head in with a package from a kid who'd told him to give it to Aomine Daiki. Kiyoshi, with great ceremony, took one yuan from Aomine to tip the kid with.

Aomine opened it. No one else was back yet. Inside the envelope was an envelope.

WIth a note.

Monsoons take care of their own, it read. In the second envelope was two hundred yuan in crisp clean notes, and Aomine's eyes widened.

He went back inside and put the money on the table, so that Tetsu saw it when he came back in on his way to drop off Nigou before picking up supplies for dinner.

"Aomine-kun," said Tetsu, fingering the notes.

"Got a new job," Aomine said, lying on the platform and yawning, wincing. The glasses-guy's hits were beginning to make themselves felt, and cracking into counter hadn't been good for him either. He was getting soft- Kagami and Kise hit hard, sure, but their practice was cushioned by enough padding to wrap china in. He'd have to get better at taking hits. Not that many people managed to land one on him.

"Good job?" said Tetsu, climbing up on the ladder to look at Aomine' face. Nigou sat at the foot of the ladder and whined.

Aomine remembered meeting that other waterbender strike for strike for strike with all the motions of an endless shifting sea, and how Ryou had pulled him along with surprising strength and determination when Aomine would have lagged and been left behind. Tetsu was still holding onto the notes gingerly, carefully, and they rustled in his grasp. Aomine could go out to stock up for dinner with him. With that money, they could afford a few treats.

"Yeah," he said. "Gonna see if I can get more."