"Then what was ya reason for being in the sewers, Narumi?" said Police Captain Imayoshi, with the air of a man prepared to ask the same question all day until he got the answer he liked. "It's a simple question. One ya don't seem to be able to find an answer to every time ah ask it to ya."

"I was working," said Narumi, still very brave for a man chained in the underground interrogation rooms for the umpteenth time in his life. He hadn't been half so cocky last time, and they'd had less on him then. "That's a thing I do. I have to do it and keep doing it."

"Oh," said Imayoshi. "So ya were down there in the special auxiliary firebender section of the Red Monsoons, a gang comprised only of waterbenders."

Narumi glared. "I- I was just muscle. Cheap muscle, they hired me to guard some stuff."

Imayoshi pounced. "What stuff?" he said.

"How should I know?" said Narumi. "I was being paid to guard it, not look at it."

That was a good comeback, for a two-bit part-timer rent-a-thug like Narumi, who could be outsmarted by a bowl of noodles. Imayoshi almost felt the need to applaud.

"Come on," he said, and dug his toes into the dirt. "Ya didn't do anything else? See anything else? That setup down there didn't look like Red work, ya know that as well I do. Down there working that shift, ya didn't see anything weird? Were ya really just there for the Reds, Narumi? Reds shafted you the last time you brushed up against them. Reds ruined a good thing for a lot of people in this city. Ya don't owe Hanamiya Makoto jack shit and ya both know it."

Narumi hesitated. His pulse raced. His throat worked: Imayoshi felt it through his feet and prepared himself to chase down that weakness-

Narumi spat on the floor. "I don't know anything," he repeated. "Take it or leave it. You may be feeding me shit in here, but at least you're feeding me. I'm in no rush."

Imayoshi relaxed out of his stance, bending his soles back on. "Fair enough," he said, and bent open the otherwise seamless metal door. Wakamatsu and Momoi stood outside, leaning against the wall. Imayoshi bent open Narumi's ankle restraints and Wakamatsu dragged him upright and kept him standing as the prisoner wobbled and nearly fell.

"Take him away," Imayoshi nodded to them.

"Narumi-kun, this way," Momoi said, and led him down the corridor. The paths in and out of the prison and around the cells would have shifted by now, courtesy of the earthbending officers.

"When does my bending come back?" Narumi said, pathetically.

"In a few hours, Narumi-kun," she said. "Don't worry, it's nothing permanent. I can even show you some breathing exercises to make your circulation better while you're cooped up in here and can't be very active!"

"Momoi, stop helping him," Imayoshi heard Wakamatsu growl. "He's criminal scum."

"Hey," said Narumi, who really was so very stupid. "Show the lady some respect!"

Imayoshi sighed. Well, that had been a bust. Truth seeing was just so damn chancy. Narumi's pulse had been jumping the whole interview, but that could have been down to any number of things. Maybe if he'd been the great Iron Heart, with his near-magical ability to irritate the truth out of anyone, he could have done something about it, but asking Kiyoshi for help was out of the question.

Even with Kiyoshi's bending turned off Imayoshi couldn't be sure if Kiyoshi was playing him, because all he did was sit there mum as a clam or talk about pai sho. Imayoshi had taken to playing with him just to have an excuse to sit him in the interrogation room for a couple of quiet hours. For about five hours poor Sakurai had worried himself sick that Kiyoshi was going on a hunger strike, but it turned out he'd just been napping and knocked over his afternoon tea and bun by accident. Two absolutely humorless Fleet guards stood watch on his wooden cell at all times, stripped of all metal and insignia. They would have liked to house him on the ship, but no one trusted his wide-eyed promise that he couldn't metal bend, not even the tiniest bit, enough to put him on a ship made almost entirely of the stuff. An objection that the police force's underground prisons were the worst place to hold any earthbender, metalbender or not, had been ignored.

Not even Imayoshi mentioning Mako had managed to get a rise out of him: the story about the time Mako had decided he was going to become part of the swamp tree had gotten great laughs and very little else. Kiyoshi Teppei wasn't an investigative dead end, but he would stay one as long as he had no reason to talk. Imayoshi could think of only one very good reason to make Kiyoshi talk, but it had no effect on him: that whatever Mako was mixed up in, it wasn't over yet.

.0.

Beast, as usual, was one of the most uncomfortable places Hanamiya had ever woken up in. The ship itself was in immaculate condition for a cast-off piece of junk, but the company he could have done without.

Nebuya pointed a finger at Mako. "No other way to say it," he said, his mouth full. "You messed up."

"You blew everything just because some thug pissed you off?" said Hayama, laughing his short sharp hyena laugh. "That's so not you, Mako!"

Mako snarled, low in his throat. "You weren't there," he said. "I had the prince, and a Water Tribe royal. And the Avatar. They all walked themselves right into my grasp. If the Fleet hadn't been ready for us-"

"They were ready because your little gangster dude turned traitor and ratted you out," said Nebuya. "We lost one of our own ships getting you out of there. We're not exactly swimming in them, you get it?"

Mako clenched his fist on the impulse to yank that musclehead's tongue right out of his idiot throat. For one thing, there was earth everywhere on the ship, even sitting innocently in the clay planter in the corner of the cabin, and Nebuya was not a forgiving opponent. For another, Hayama was right there, balanced on the chair he was tipping backwards and watchful. He would snap Mako's spine before any of them could blink. Mako could have mopped the floor with one of them out here on the ocean: two was a chancy proposition.

"He was police, not Fleet," said Mako. "Look to your own side for the leak. That bastard brings in half the Victory's convoy to come home and drink cocktails? I thought you guys had a sure-fire plan to bring him down."

"I thought you were the one who came up with all the fancy plans," pointed out Nebuya. "The twins were the ones who thought sending in to get their hands on the prince was a good idea, not us. Anyone could have told them that it was damn stupid. We got pulled off our route to back them up."

"If we'd gotten him out of there under his brother's fucking nose it would have been worth it," said Mako, who still remembered having four or five promising- very promising- project sites broken up by the Commander's interference. "The Avatar was just icing on the cake."

"Shou didn't like having to bust you out of there another time," said Hayama, balancing a grape-lemon on his face. "Were you even sure you got the right one? Fake prince scams pop up all the time, you know."

"Do you think I'm an idiot like you?" said Mako. "He was a firebender and he wore the royal pendant, like every damn description we've ever had of him."

"He had a piece of metal shaped like fire and painted gold," said Nebuya, unperturbed. "We see that all the time out here. People go crazy over princes, all. the. time."

Mako put his hand to his head. Shit like this was why he'd gone back to Republic City in the fucking first place. Any more and Shou or no, Mako was making himself a seaweed monster and sinking this ship.

"Where the hell is Shou, anyway?" he said. "We're a bit short here, aren't we?" If only you idiots are heading up this ship.

"Dunno," said Nebuya. "He dropped you off, told us to up anchor and cross with the Serpentine, and kept on flying."

Mako stared flatly at him. "Yes," he said. "So helpful."

Nebuya shrugged. "Storm's coming in," he reported. "We're battening down. Even if we wanted to get anywhere, we're not going today. Rest up. Once it's over, we'll have work to do."

.0.

"You know, I think I have the hang of it now," said Kise, all of two days into Kuroko's instruction of him. "You showed me all those chi-blocking moves, and I figured them out really quickly!"

"Yes," said Kuroko. The loss of sensation in his entire right side was almost comforting. It reminded him of sparring with Momoi, and it was a relief to think Kuroko would not be expected to get up and keep teaching Kise until he could move again.

"And someday, Midorimachi may forgive us," said Kise.

"It's good that Takao-kun was free today to take him back to the embassy in that cart," said Kuroko. "With only minimal assistance, Midorima-kun will be able to regain the ability to walk under his own power in no time."

Kise snickered. "I wonder when we're leaving," he said, throwing his head back and testing the air. "I mean, the conference is pretty much broken up now, except for parties, but I guess Akashichi will have to go to the Fire Nation one. Now that Master Alex Garcia is attending, and you know, that."

Kuroko followed the artless wave of Kise's hand and looked up at the Air Temple spire, where the dragon was coiled restlessly, still watching the buildings of Republic City across the bay. Nestled in the wide folds of wing were a handful of the bravest Air Bison babies, who had seized the opportunity to take a nap on always-warm scales.

"Sempai should be reaching the temple by now," Kise said. "He said he'd telegraph back when he got to the Northern Air Temple and met up with Captain Nijimura."

"That's a long way to go," Kuroko remarked. "And the weather hasn't been the best this time of year."

"He took his bison," said Kise, the sunny expression falling off his face. "As long as they don't push too hard, it'll be okay."

Kuroko thought that just maybe, he was regaining the ability to wiggle his toes. If he could only show Kise how to focus the energy while reactivating his chi points, perhaps they could get somewhere with this. He did not in the least blame Midorima-kun for retreating in a huff: the only way Kise seemed able to absorb anything was if it was accompanied by or consisted of a physical demonstration, and his irritation at still being confined to Air Temple Island was palatable. Yesterday, as now, he continually jumped from subject to subject, as easily diverted as the wind, and not anywhere near so tractable.

They were sitting on the edge of the island facing the shore, looking the same direction as the dragon, watching ships cross the bay. From here Kuroko could see the attic's gold-painted windows, where he had no doubt Aomine and Kagami were still convalescing under strict orders.

"Why do you think Akashichi never told me he was being targeted by terrorists?" said Kise, throwing himself on the ground next to Kuroko. "I'm the Avatar. I could have done something about it."

Kuroko lifted his head. Kise was looking at his hands and their arrows, turning them over in the light. They glowed against his skin, but remained avatar state-less.

"I mean, it's not like I was being trained and all that for nothing," the Avatar continued. He pouted at Kuroko. "I'm pretty good, you know! Not just at earth and water. I've mastered all the elements."

"You have," said Kuroko. Kise's face was aggrieved, his lovely eyes darting away restlessly.

"He should know," said Kise sullenly. "He trained me himself."

Kuroko uttered a soothing noise and Kise kicked his heels against the dusty ground. "I'll get you a drink, Kurokchi!" he announced suddenly. "Then we can start again when you're ready. I'm going to be leaving soon too, after all."

Kuroko murmured assent only find Kise already gone, leaping to the upper spirals of the island in a rush of wind. He relaxed into the shade and continued to ponder how best to elucidate chi theory to the Avatar. Kise-kun needed focus, not occupation, but Kuroko couldn't blame him for being distracted. At best, he and the other occupants of the attic were waiting for the other shoe to drop.

A figure on the opposite bank caught his eye. It was only a moment, but something about the tilt of that head, a familiar profile, a glimpse of reddish-brown hair, made Kuroko feel as though he had been struck by lightning.

Kuroko jerked upright, frantically scanning the street. The glare of the water- a mass of scurrying pedestrians- he had thought he'd seen- it couldn't have been just a trick of the light… could it?

The name, almost forgotten, fell from his lips involuntarily. "Ogi… wara… kun?" Kuroko murmured, watching the anonymous mass of humanity pass through Republic City.

.0.

The storm had blown up out of nowhere, descending on their heads and nearly forcing them off-course. Kai huffed out a laboured breath and flew faster, bulling his great head against the wind. Kasamatsu guiltily patted his horns and stayed clinging to the neck strap as low to the bison's body as he could manage to minimize wind resistance, tucking the reins out of the way. The Northern Air Temple was just a few hours away- if they could keep from getting blown out of the sky until then.

The journey seemed interminable, cold and wet. Kasamatsu thought about meetings and what Kise was doing and movers, and then when that failed hummed songs into Kai's fur to keep his ears clear and thought about hot baths. Kai rumbled back, in tune. The wind and rain got worse and worse, and Kasamatsu began to mentally run through the coastline, wondering he could turn back before they dropped out of the sky.

And then Nijimura Shuuzo dropped out of the sky onto the back of Kasamatsu's bison, clipping the wings of his wingsuit closed against his body.

Kai grunted his annoyance, but kept flying. Nijimura flattened himself against the bison's back and crawled up to where he could talk to Kasamatsu without the wind blowing their words away.

"No saddle?" he shouted.

"Weight!" Kasamatsu roared back. "What are you doing out here?"

"Got Akashi's message!" Nijimura shouted. "Sweeping for Mukan ships!"

Kasamatsu shook his head at the folly of hunting battleships alone, but that was Nijimura all over. In fairness, there was probably no one better suited to it than the former Captain of the second fleet's peacekeeping division, famous in four cultures for his exploits and bravery. Kasamatsu would not have chanced flying on his own in this, but this was probably just his preference for not drowning in the middle of the ocean talking.

"Found anything?" he yelled.

"Ships have vanished off their trade or patrol routes all up and down the coast!" Nijimura said grimly. "I don't think their crews just decided it was the right time to take a vacation!"

"The storm?" yelled Kasamatsu.

Nijimura shook his head. "They left hours ago!" he shouted. "I checked the coves and hideaways. Cleared out, all of them!"

Kasamatsu cursed. "Just escaped or planning something?" he said. Doppelganger's crew hadn't been talking when he left, but the Mukan were annoyingly well-organised. It was what made them so dangerous.

"They're-" Nijimura started, then checked himself.

The winds were worsening. Kai huffed and tried to drop altitude, but was stymied by unnatural gusts that blew hard and strong, threatening to send them head over heels into the ocean below. Nijimura grabbed onto Kasamatsu with one arm and began to slowly spin his free arm to bend a wind up to stabilize them, but his winds were eaten up by the monster winds that rushed around them, tearing at their bodies and lungs.

Kai fought the winds. They got rougher and rougher, but Nijimura and Kasamatsu grimly held on, to each other and to Kai. If they separated now, they'd be lucky to just hit the water. Kai's body contorted and shuddered, trying as hard as he could to shield them from the worst of it and still keep flying.

And then- silence, as the wind whistled around them, suddenly obedient. The clouds still raged, but a tunnel had formed around them, a clear shield of air. The winds lessened and cleared in their bubble, and Kasamatsu heard a hollow whistling echoing in his ears.

Nijimura elbowed him. "There," he said. His voice was hoarse from shouting. "Five and down."

Kasamatsu looked in that direction. At the eye of that smooth calm was a- he squinted. A bison?

She flew leisurely through the air. On her back, a caped and hooded bender stood with his staff whirling lazy complicated patterns with one hand. He was the one controlling the storm, Kasamatsu realized, and his bending had been what whipped up the winds on the outside of his bubble, the blowback from forming this calm zone feeding into the storm and making it worse.

The other bison fell in with them, letting them float in her slipstream. Kai, dripping wet and exhausted, hung his six legs as he paddled tiredly after her.

"Who's that?" Kasamatsu said, his own voice rough. He loosened his grip on the reins, wincing as his fingers protested. "And what the hell did he think he was doing? Anyone on the outside of that..."

"He's coming in with us," said Nijimura. "His heading is the Northern Air Temple too." He frowned as he looked at the other air bender, who was looking at them and grinning as the wind blew back his hood, standing upright with his staff in one hand and the reins of his bison hanging from the fingers of his other hand. The sky parted before him as easily as it would for- hell, for Kise, that was what Kasamatsu found himself thinking. That languid ease, that perfect certainty. Under that raincoat, the newcomer was dressed as any airbender might have been, but like Nijimura, the arrows that striped his back and limbs had been tattooed with black ink, not blue, signifying that he'd taken his mastery without swearing to non-violence. "Fuck," said Nijimura. "Of all the damn times. Haizaki's come home."

.0.

"I think I hate sewers," said Kagami, igniting his hand.

"You're the one who wanted me to bring you in here," Aomine pointed out. 'I need to know how we get out of here without anyone seeing us leave the building', his ass. Kagami was such a drama queen. "Where are we going, anyway?"

"Anywhere," said Kagami. He stuck his other hand into his pocket and brought out a fistful of yuans. "Or the market, that's good. We're nearly out of food."

Aomine grunted. They were only out of food because Kagami kept cooking up dishes and eating them, but that didn't quite seem the right thing to say. Kagami had been kind of touchy ever since they got out of the hospital. Satsuki and Nigou did their best, but Aomine was taking the brunt of it since he wasn't allowed to go anywhere either- getting out of the attic for a while was actually a big relief.

"This way," he said.

"How far do these things go?" said Kagami.

"Everywhere," said Aomine. "It's how Mako got back into the city and laid low so long."

Kagami narrowed his eyes at Aomine. Aomine cursed himself for reminding Kagami that technically speaking, Aomine was still on the rocks for messing up that whole Mako situation so badly.

"What are you going to do now?" said Kagami. "You think you're healed up?"

Aomine shrugged. "I dunno," he said, ignoring Kagami's second question. "Satsuki and Tetsu seem pretty settled. Guess I'll find another job. I don't think Aida's going to let me pro-bend again even if I get another team." He brightened. "Maybe I'll become a mover star." Kise got offers all the time, Aomine could probably do that easy.

"What about us?" said Kagami.

"What about you?" said Aomine. "You and Kise are going to go back to your important lives, and I guess Satsuki'll cut your pictures out of all the papers for me to laugh at. We can look at Tetsu's bylines."

He was so caught up in this affecting picture that he missed Kagami stopping stock-still in the sewer, outraged.

"Wait," said Kagami, grabbing Aomine's shoulder. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? You think I'm going to leave you guys?"

"Uh," said Aomine. "Yeah? You've been bombed by people telling you it's time to go home. I think that Midorima dude only turns up every day to make sure you're being worn down. Kise hasn't even been back. It's okay. You can go. We were around before you, we'll-"

Kagami's hand tightened, and he shoved Aomine until his back hit the wall, his palm burning hot.

"Oi!" said Aomine, slapping it off. "Don't get mad, just because-" we don't need you, he meant to say, but Kagami grabbed him with both hands, cutting Aomine off as he pushed the waterbender against the gross sewer wall.

"You think I'll do that?" Kagami said, demanded. "You- do you not understand? You nearly died. If Shin hadn't been there, you probably would have. And they think he's going to come back! They still want to put you in jail! You think I'm cool with that? Hell, you think Momoi and Kuroko and Kise would be good with that? You think I'm just going to leave like I don't give a shit? Who does that?"

Aomine was silent. Kagami's chest was heaving, and his face was red. Aomine put his hand on one of Kagami's wrists, detaching it from his shoulder. "That's why you should go," he said. "It's you Mako'll be gunning for if he comes back. We always-" and the words tasted like ashes in his mouth. "I always knew. Someday you'd have to go back. You don't belong to people like us."

Kagami stepped back, his mouth working: there was something raw in his face, and Aomine dropped his gaze. Kagami touched his pendant, under his clothes.

"I'm not going," he said. "I don't- I don't give a crap what Tatsuya says. Or Alex, or Shin. I especially don't care that some fucking bloodbender, or some random crazies, are going to be gunning for me. You were half dead and you kicked his ass, for Yue's-" he cut himself off.

"When I go back, it'll be because I want to," Kagami said. "Not because anyone is making me. Not because of anything someone else thinks."

"What if I said it," said Aomine. When. "Told you to get out of here."

"Fuck you," said Kagami. "I fed you breakfast this morning, you ungrateful moron."

"You snore and your face is stupid," said Aomine. A hitched breath escaped Aomine's mouth, which horrified him. He hadn't added his own fear, so deep and so old: that some day Satsuki wouldn't want him either. That she could do better than the weirdo orphan washed up on the beach who'd dragged her halfway around the world for no damn reason.

Kagami glared. "Your face," he said. "I'm not leaving until I'm good and ready."

"Fine," said Aomine. "Look, just up this ladder here, we'll be two blocks down from the east farmer's market." And until then, Aomine would be ready, too.

Kagami seemed to calm down digging through produce for the good stuff, which Aomine thought was weird, but whatever.

"Who'd you think was watching the Arena, anyway?" Aomine said, while pushing Kagami away from the overpriced yams.

"What," said Kagami absently. "Do those look like cheese buns?"

"Who did you think was watching the Arena," repeated Aomine patiently. "It's not like we had to dodge that lieutenant, he'll know we're gone when he wakes up from his nap."

"No, what was watching us," said Kagami.

"That's what I'm asking you!" snapped Aomine.

"No, I mean-" a shadow fell over them. Aomine paid no attention, assuming it was just a cloud or a passing bison, but then the shadow darkened and thickened, spreading around them.

He looked up.

A dragon descended from the sky, effectively stopping all passing traffic. Aomine's mouth dropped open: it was way bigger than an air bison, stirring up puffs of wind as it landed. Red and gold all over, it leaked steam from it's gigantic nostrils.

Aomine grabbed Kagami's arm. "A dragon!" he said. "I've always wanted to see one!"

"That," said Kagami, who didn't seem excited at all. In fact, he sounded… resigned. "That was what I thought was watching the Arena."

"Uh," said Aomine.

The dragon's rider disembarked from its back. As his shining boots hit the pavement the dragon nosed at his hair for an affectionate moment. He patted its flank and it launched itself back into the air in the direction of Air Temple Island.

"Taiga," Commander Akashi of the United Forces said. "I sent word I wished to see you."

"Yeah, that's why I left the apartment," said Kagami.

"Attic, do you mean?" said Akashi, his tone glacial. "Hole?"

Aomine had seen pictures of him from the papers Tetsu brought back to the attic, and in person, the eighteen-year old Commander was easy to recognise. He was no Kise, but black and white photos hadn't managed to convey the intensity of those clear Fire Nation eyes over icily aristocratic features, currently set in a frown that was moving a street full of bystanders that had frozen for the entrance of a dragon all by itself.

He was dressed not in Fleet regimentals, but civilian attire of grey, black and brown, which seemed pointless because it was just as sharp, stern and severe as his uniform would have been. He looked completely humourless, standing in the middle of the road blocking their path, his arms folded. And Aomine had, uh. Expected him to be taller.

"What do you want?" said Kagami.

"Is that how you speak to me, Taiga?" said the Commander.

"What do you want, sir," said Kagami.

The Commander's face did not move a muscle. The only outward hint to his irritation was the way his eyes flashed, like a sky full of storm clouds.

Aomine nudged Kagami. "Uh," he said. "What does the Fleet Commander want with you?"

They both stared at him.

Akashi raised an eyebrow. "Is this the criminal you've taken up with?" he said, his voice tight. "Pardon. Is this the latest criminal?"

Kagami gave a short, bitter laugh. "What," he said to Aomine. "You don't see the family resemblance?"