Three

Yue, Province 5

I stand just at the edge of our apartment's balcony just as the sun rises, basking everything in its warm, gentle heat. It is inviting to many, especially those who live in the Fire Nation provinces. But unlike most, I think of morning as a time to mourn for the loss of the moon. Even though it is ignored at night and forgotten at day, the moon still remains the singular emblem, the symbol, of us Water Tribe People.

Besides that, I owe my life to the moon spirit; when I was only an infant, I came under a strange disease that made my lungs and spirit weak. Dad says I was only a miracle away from becoming a stillborn child. No healer could save me, but the moon did. That's why I've had white hair. A lot of my friends say that the moon also left some of its spirit in me too; that's why they say I act the way I do.

That makes me sound old-fashioned, doesn't it? In spite of all the propaganda the Avatar forces in our face, and even in spite of the fact I'm the mayor's daughter, I always wished I was born some other time, before the war that created the Republic. The Northern Water Tribe, well, they lived in peace with the other nations and with the Avatar himself, as the spirits had always intended.

But this was just not meant to be, I suppose. I can't bemoan my fate, especially since my family is mostly well-off. I've always had enough to eat, and most my province has enough to eat too. Like everywhere else, we have problems with poverty, but Five is developed enough that this isn't a real problem.

A distant clanging sound, like a bell, breaks me from my course of thought. I look to the left and see the source; it's the bell that alerts the male and female workers to the beginning of the next work shift. Just what I suspected; morning has begun.

You see, Five is where electricity is generated for the rest of the Republic, mostly through the enormous hydroelectric dams that run through our city. Sort of like Three (technology) and Six (medicine), we are considered among the more "developed" provinces, at least in the eyes of the Avatar. This saves us from the mockery they always reserve for the latter provinces, particularly Eight. Before the war, they were our sister tribe...

I hear some rustling from the other room and I realize that dad is waking up. I rush to his side immediately.

"Are you up yet?" I inquire as I help him up. "You have to look your best for the Selection ceremonies."

He chuckles a bit, and then he answers: "It's only 8:00, and the festivities begin at 11:00. You worry too much, Yue, just like your mother."

We both freeze at the same time, dad already realizing his mistake. We can't mention her. You see, when I was 3 my mother contract the same disease I had as an infant, except she wasn't so lucky. Even though we belonged to the mayor's family, we still weren't allowed the drugs that could have saved her. Besides that, both mom and dad refused to make another request from the moon. Even though I was too young to have remembered her I still feel guilt; if they had let me die, mom could have lived.

Dad carefully breaks the ice. "Well," he notes, "I just need to be there, it's not like I have a speech or anything."

I smile weakly, but even he can tell it's forced.

"I'll get ready." I say, "I should be looking my best, I suppose."

I walk down to my closet and pick out the one dress. Sure, we might be the mayor's family, but we don't have a closet filled with the latest fashions. Fortunately for us, it's not too bad a dress. Unlike the typical azurite blue, it's more a pale purple. It has fur fringes around the neck and pant lines, one of the few luxuries we afforded for it. In reality, it's quite like all the other selection outfits; frilly and elegant, but dated and washed out. It's something about the forgotten beauty of these dresses that always saddens me every year. But maybe it's just me, I guess I've lived slightly closer to the Republic City fashion circuit that most.

I pose with that dress in front of me, wondering if I've put on more pounds during this year, when the doorbell rings.

"I'll get it!" I shout in the direction of dad's room. I rush down the hallway, expecting one of those foreign dignitaries that we always get, but I'm greeted instead by someone else.

"Oh, hi Yue!" Mei says cheerfully. I notice the bowl of sea urchins in her hands, which she hands immediately to me. "Well the Chief asked for another delivery, so here's the one for today."

When she sees my apprehension, she also adds: "It's on the house, because, well, you know," - She launches into her Joo Dee impression. - "May the odds ever be in your favor, province citizens."

We both laugh together, which is when I notice another boy standing off to the left, frowning at me for some reason. I've never seen him before, but he's like many of the other teenaged workers: tall, dark hair and skin, plain clothes. He speaks up: "Nice dress you've got there."

I look down in my right hand, and I realize I've been clenching the dress the whole time. "Oh, thanks, I guess." I say slowly. "I guess I might need it if I'm being sent to Republic City tonight."

Mei smiles at me pleasantly, but the boy does not.

"You won't need it." he continues, staring me down. "All of us know that you aren't going. What are your odds being selected, huh? 3 in 1000?"

"Hey!" Mei shouts suddenly. "Shoichi, she may be the mayor's daughter and a customer, but she also happens to be my friend. So -"

"No Mei, he's right." I interrupt. "It's unfair. Both of you have a lower chance of being selected than I do. For that, I apologize."

Shoichi pauses, as if to actually consider my words, but in the end he turns away without a response, leaving Mei to chase after him.

"Hey, wait up!" she shouts after him.

Mei and I, we've had an odd friendship of sorts. Mei, she's always been outgoing, friendly, energetic. And me, reclusive, shy. It's not that people avoided me, rather, I avoided people. We never really grew up together - rather, we met over a bowl of sea urchins. She delivered them often and, somehow, we managed to develop a genuine friendship over time. Unlike me, she has other friends, but we're the closest.

That boy, Shoichi, sure was strange. He must have been one of those people. We see them in Five from time to time, they blame us for all the problems the Avatar brings to society. Fortunately, most people keep to themselves in the matter of politics, since they think they'll get arrested or something.

But unlike what many people think, my father does try to work hard. It's not like we greedily hoard a mountainous pile of money in some remote cellar; dad tries to use as much of it as he can in other places, like improving the schools or decreasing the workload. But I digress; fate is fate.

After I change, I walk toward the square, my boots crunching the thick snow into dense footprints behind me. As usual, it's been decked out colorfully with the colors that represent the four elements. After checking in, I slide into the same section as Mei.

"Hi." I say.

"Oh, I'm so sorry about Shoichi," she blurts out, "I mean, he's nice most of the time, but I didn't expec -,"

"No, no, it's fine." I answer dismissively. "I deal with them all the time. I'm used to this sort of thing."

"Oh good!" she says, back to her cheerful self. "I just don't want you to be bitter or anything." - she leans in and her voice reduces to a whisper - "Who do you think's getting selected?"

"If I had it my way, no one." I mutter back. "But," - I whip my head around and glance across the crowd - "what about Li? He's been a really thorn in the side of the guards this year, so maybe they managed to rig the selection."

"Oh really? I thought the same! As for the girl, it has to be -," a harsh microphone feedback ripples from the stage across the crowd, making everyone cover their ears at the same time. I'm also left without Mei's suspicion for the female tribute. Maybe we'll talk later.

"My humblest apologies, province citizens." says Joo Dee. "But this microphone is just new technology, isn't it. Republic City always searches for the newest innovations."

As she launches into her tangent, I glance at her dress and realize how superior it is to ours; it's a bright, cheerful blue, and probably custom manufactured a few weeks ago. It stands out among all the faded outfits that everyone else is wearing. As my eyesight travels across the stage, I see all the dignitaries that make up Five; the guards, the more respectable storekeepers, and of course, my dad.

"Now, Mr. Arnook, please hand me the envelopes."

Reluctantly, he hands her two white envelopes, which contrast the overwhelming sea of water blue. Just like the envelopes, the tribute's fates are sealed I think.

"As for the female tribute..." Joo Dee digs her surprisingly sharpened nails through the seal and digs out the name of one unlucky girl. The crowd pulls together in anticipation, as if afraid to lose one of its own.

"... her name is Yue."

For a few seconds, the breath is knocked out of me; and the one condition I've had as a child threatens to break through again. I almost faint

Somehow, I make my way up to Joo Dee, who remarks without a hint of surprise: "Wow, the mayor's daughter. How fortunate for you. Let's give a hand to Yue."

I turn around to face the citizens of Five who, to my shock, refuse. Mei, even Shoichi, among them, the people do not clap, they do not smile, they do not even acknowledge her. Even Joo Dee couldn't misinterpret the message: We do not condone. This is wrong.

Why this is happening, I do not know, nor will I ever. Maybe I was wrong all along; I naively thought the province hated us, but maybe they really do appreciate what my father has done, or rather, tried to do for them.

This thought almost makes me want to want to cry, but I'm saved from this moment when Joo Dee begins speaking again.

"Oh, uh..." she errs, rather uncharacteristically. "Should we... maybe reveal the male tribute?"

As she is handed the envelope the guard, who also happens to be the head sent from Republic City, whispers something into her ear. And then, the strangest thing of all happens: just as my eyes linger over her own, her irises abruptly turn from a natural brown to a pure black. Of everything that has happened today, this is by far the most disturbing. As I look back to the assembly, I am clearly the only one to see this sudden change, as I'm the only one close to her.

Joo Dee begins to talk again, her robotic accent evident: "His name is … ,"

The crowd stirs again, clearly not recovered from my selection. "... Sangok." A nervous looking boy emerges from the sixteens.

Oh, I've heard of him; he's a pupil of Five's best waterbending mentor, Master Pakku. Apparently, he's the weakest of the group. If I had a darker sense of humor, I'd say he was a definite bloodbath.

"It's my fault. It's all my fault." dad says as soon as he walks into the farewell room. His voice begins to break. "This wasn't supposed to happen."

"No, of course it wasn't." I respond. "It's a random drawing. I guess we were just unlucky."

"No, I'm serious. Remember that power plant accident several years ago?"

"Yeah? What about it?"

About 4 years after mom died, there was an accident at the Eastern power plant that killed 14 people. I don't remember much about the incident, but I know my dad stuck his neck out for the grieving families. He had to step on the toes of some top officials to get them some compensation money. I've never thought about it much until now.

"Well, the mayor from Two said that he would find some way to get back at me, since I had to lobby away much of his dividends. I didn't know that it would …,"

Dad pulls me closer into a tight hug, and I feel his warm salty tears run down the side of my face. He rocks me back and forth like a parent comforts an infant, afraid of the moment when the guards barge in and pry me from his arms, most likely forever.

"Look, I-I'll make it up to you. I can funnel away some money to bribe the gamemakers. You can come back home - ,"

"No, I don't want you to do that."

I pull away and look at his wrinkled face.

"I refuse to steal money that the people of Five need. If this is really happening, I need to resign myself to my real fate. I have to die, dad."

This, he strangely fails to react to. Maybe he was think the same thing I was all along; I'm going to die. Maybe he just wants his last moments with me in peace. When the guards finally come, he whispers one last thing in my ear.

"Say hi to mom, would you?"

Those are his last words to me as we are separated for eternity.

Jin, Province 6

As I open the scroll, specks of dust fly out everywhere, like caged birds being released. The effect makes me cough incessantly as I instinctively breath inwards. A sudden cry from the far corner of the bookstore shocks me enough to almost make me drop the ancient scroll.

"Jin?" screeches the voice. "Are you dusting?"

"Yes, I am."

"Well, good. Zhou was late yesterday."

Ah yes, Zhou. He's one of my coworkers … from 25 years ago. Basically, my life consists of working in a bookshop managed by an amnesiac old hermit who also happens to be my grandmother. Both my parents work at the bottling plant. The store pays for our tiny little apartment within the 2nd ring, which is the second poorest section of Province 6. It's not a terrible life, but sometimes I want to just … somehow find a way to escape Six and never come back. There's a whole world out there and as big and diverse as Six is, I want to move on. But, even I know it's a stupid wish. I'll live with what I can get.

"Hold on, I'm comin' round."

Grandma's slouching form appears from behind a nearby bookcase. She dons her enormous, horn-rimmed orange spectacles which, when combined with posture and green robes, make her look like an enormous spider-beetle.

"Is that the best you could do?"

"Well you bought the duster before the war, so maybe it's just ineffective."

"Nonsense, I bought it yesterday!" she frowns at me, still unimpressed. "If my granddaughter was here, I'd bet she'd do a much better job than you."

I sigh, since I already know better than to argue with her amnesia. I tried reminding her who I was when I was six, but I almost always never got through. I do love her though, in spite of all her imperfections.

"So, may I be dismissed so I can prepare for the selection?"

"Huh? What's that?" I'll take that as a yes.

"Thanks!"

"What's a 'selection'?"

By then, I'm already out the door and in the streets. Smoke drifts over from airship factory, surrounding me in a cloud of grey, cough-worthy ash. I hold my breathing mask in front of my face and look to the left and right, seeing crowded cobble streets and rows of derelict wooden houses on both sides. I make my way around a fruit pie cart into the alley, making my way up rusted steel steps up into our apartment.

Six is an … odd place to live in. Once upon a time, it was instead called Ba Sing Se, a vibrant, urban metropolis of all sorts of people. There were problems and such, but they were the best of times for this city. That was before the war. Province 6 is what came afterwards. Under the guise of "keeping the peace", the Avatar erected immense walls of stone, which split Six into rings or "sectors". In reality, this was so that the upper class wouldn't have to congregate with us, the poorer ones. The center ring, I've heard, is the most beautiful, but the smallest. Each of the following rings is for the progressively less wealthy people which, more or less coincidentally, six. As for me, I call the "mini-provinces" since they don't allow people to travel between rings.

Our bookshop is fortunately in the third ring so we're not poor and we often have enough to eat. Most of six is employed in enormous processing factories; here we seem to do a mixture of transportation, like Satomobiles and airships, along with basic medicine.

While in the house, I figure that I'm alone, making the wood plank flooring seem, somehow, lonely if that is possible. A quick look at the marble clock tells me that I don't have much time before all the selection trains depart to the center.

I rush to my parents wardrobe and grab the emerald green dress that my mother and grandmother probably wore at some point. I also snatch a handful of jade jewlery and put it on hastily. A quick glance at the mirror tells me that I am mostly passable by Republic City standards. I'm not ugly, but I'm not the most pretty either.

I narrowly avoid falling onto my face as I round the corner on the smooth floors of our apartment, while also putting on the golden bracelets. I go out the door, down the stairs, and pause for a moment at entrance to the alley. I can see that I'm late, but not late-enough-to-get-clubbed-by-the-guards late, since a few final children are rushing down the street, now suspiciously devoid of food carts, market stalls, beggars, and life in general. Without a second thought, I join the other children, most of which I don't even know, in the breakneck exodus down the street towards the train station.

I've never thought about the class divisions of Six that much, but the train to the center ring throws the issue right in my face. Our car has long padded benches in rows, but we all have to squeeze next to complete strangers in order to fit. I look down the window and crowded benches toward the 4th ring car, when I realize that they've literally been corralled into standing room in order to fit. The 2nd ring car looks less crowded than ours, which makes me kind of envious of them.

One uncomfortable train ride later, the train chugs into the center ring, inviting some of the smaller children to crowd the windows in order to get a view of a place they rarely ever see. I catch glimpses, but not enough to get an impression. Once it finally stops, a rather grotesque looking guards shouts into the car for everyone to get off.

The train station is surprisingly bare-bones for something in the 1st ring, but it's not like they would they would spend their money to pamper us "lowlifes" for even a few minutes. Now all smushed together, the children of rings 2 through 6 are directed, rather efficiently, to the square will the selection will begin. It seems like Joo Dee and the guards are already prepared, since she's mid-tangent by the time I'm scanned in.

"... and so forth, it was decreed that each year that this pageant would be known as the Element Games. Twelve provinces …,"

I slide into my section and manage to find my closest friend, Peng. He's one year younger than me and male, but Six doesn't divide by age groups at the selection, fortunately.

"Oh, you missed so much." he says sarcastically. "Where've you been?"

"The bookstore." I respond.

He nods along sympathetically, since he already knows about grandma's illness. Though I love my family, he's one of the few people I can really trust. We first met at school and ended up befriending each other since we were the outcasts. I was always the shy one, and he was the poorest one. Yes, there are social constructs even within the rings. But things have changed, and circumstances are much different.

"... the wise Avatar constructed the factories of Province 3, because the mountains ... ,"

Joo Dee's microphone somehow manages to rise above the din, but is drowned out again by the noise. In Six, there's really an attitude of lightness around the reapings; after all, it's so densely populated that the chances of being chosen are pretty much nothing.

Once this finishes, I guess I'll take the crowded train back home, and work in the bookstore till dark. That's how my life is, and pretty much always will be. I should have resigned myself to this a long time ago; I'm pretty much a molded citizen. Six is, and always will be, my home. If I make it past the final selection years, then this will really be true.

I converse with Peng for a while, but mostly because we have nothing else to do. I can tell he's more nervous than I am, which is odd considering that he'd have a better chance of winning.

"... ever benevolent, he also gave Province 8 ...,"

But when it comes to the Element Games, there's no use for optimism. We'd both end up with our heads skewered on a stick by the Elites at some point. I doubt I could even make it past the bloodbath.

"... the green mountaintops of Province 10. The temples were bulldozed, to be replaced by ...,"

No, that's ridiculous. There's no chance either of us will go to the Element Games. The odds just aren't -

"... in your favor." Joo Dee finishes. "Now, let's select our female tribute, shall we."

She brandishes around a folded envelope, stark white like many of these center ring buildings.

No, no, this isn't going to happen. I think, as if to flush out my sudden flurry pounding heartbeats. Why am I even worried? You're going to go home. You're going to work at the bookstore with your weird, spider-beetle shaped grandmother. You've got the rest of your life ahead -

"Is there a ... Jin?"

- of you here in Six.

Peng nudges me forward, not eyes not crying and sobbing, but even more disturbingly solemn and dull as I turn away from him.

I walk forward, like some robot on automatic. I sweep back my ponytails in what I hope is a regal manner, and avoid any other pair of prying eyes. If they were to look, they would have known the truth. I can't show weakness, not now.

On the stage in front of everyone to see, the second name is read.

"Is there a ... Daichi?"

A boy walks out from edge.

The good thing about me is my eyesight which allows me to see him; the face is blank, utterly blank, oddly. He lacks surprise or even fear. Nonetheless, any attempt to find something by this first impression is unsuccessful. I'll have to acquaint myself with him later. Our eyes meet for a second as he climbs the steps, but we both look away at the same time.

I don't know him. So, if I have to kill him, it shouldn't be that hard. I think to myself.

Somehow, I'm oddly calm as this all unfolds. Though I've never thought of it that way before, maybe these games are the answers to my prayers to leave Six. Whether or not I live, this will be the thing that sets me free. So as Daichi and I are led off the stage, I turn back to the crowd a final time and smile and wave. A genuine one.

Well, farewell Province 6.

Longshot, Province 6

The day starts out masquerading as any other day. The sun rises off of the horizon, showering the grungy rowhouses and smoldering factories of the fifth ring with ludicrous light, as if cheerfully oblivious to suffering. The hired help storm through the house and down the hallways like some dreaded beast, bawling like infants demanding that everyone in the community home wake up.

Six's community houses are dreaded, for good reason. This where they send the children no-one wants; the orphans. The rich always fund the caretakers for some reason, blindly thinking that their money is being sent to "charity" and that the spirits will somehow reward their "good deeds" , which couldn't be further from the truth.

Rather, the caretakers use it to cushion their paychecks and buy extravagances for themselves and hire paid, overworked help, while not buying nearly enough money to feed and educate us. Here in the community houses, it's really the survival of the fittest, because you literally have battle the others just for a meager amount of food. Most of my fellow residents are bitter, beyond caring, but as they should be. If someone takes pity on another less fortunate, they lose their own rations.

The thought of the caretakers make my hands curl into fists, one of the few shows of emotion I allow. They maintain their facade of being genuinely good people to the rich public, but in reality they are greedy, insolent monsters. I will never forgive them, like I will never forgive my family.

Someone yawns, ending my succession of thought. That person is Hitoshi, my roommate. He's much taller than I am, contrasted by the fact that he has unusually short, messy brown hair. He tends to be nice, but his personality is just like any other 17 year old.

This the only thing I will say about him because we are not, nor will we ever be, friends. We both have made that clear first time we met. We are only two people in similar situations, but on two different tracks leading to different fates. The only reason we live together is because that is where we were assigned.

The room is dirty, to say the least. It has cold concrete floors, obscured with a permanent layer of dust. The walls are wooden, but rotted in the corner with my bed in it. The furniture consists of two rusted iron bedframes and a shared, dingy closet.

I dress just before Hitoshi wakes, right into one of my two sets of clothes. I finger the rough fabric as I put it on; it's funny how time changes things. When I was dumped here, it was far too large, but brand new. Now, it is old and worn, but too small. The thought of my old clothes arcs around to the day when I ended up in this home, which I regret instantly and try to forcibly flood away in my mind.

As I step through the door into the hallway, which is in the same condition as is the room. A few others are out and about, but not many. I make my way down to the shared kitchen and eat my communal share of bread and soup, avoiding the moldy or burnt bits. I look back up at the clock and see that I have 40 minutes or so until the selections begin. As I look back around the kitchen and dining tables, I see a steady stream of people pile into the room. I cringe inwardly and quickly file away my plate and cup, not wanting to run into the rest of the community house orphans.

That's how I've always been, I guess. It probably developed out of shyness when I came here as a feeble child, but eventually it came to define me. I avoid people, because it necessitates conversation automatically. Because I don't have anything better to do at the house and also because the Satomobile factory is closed, I figure the best course of action is to board one of the first trains to the square.

Just as I turn to leave, I feel a slight but noticeable tug on my hand. I bend down to see who it is and see a pair of green eyes stare back at me. They belong to a tiny little girl, who looks 10 but is probably 12. She has normal black hair but tanned skin, possibly of Water Tribe descent. Her dress is old and frayed, but would have been considered pretty in its time; it's a jade-green with decorative flecks of brown that comes down to her knees.

"Can I walk with you to the square, Daichi?" she asks. "It is selection day."

I seize up suddenly, mostly because she called me by my formal name. I stand there rather idiotically for a few moments, but a coarse voice almost alien to me forces itself out of my mouth.

"Fine."

Why I obliged with this strange girl's request, I do not know. Maybe it was because it was selection day, and some suppressed part of me urged itself to find someone to talk to.

I don't do something ludicrous, like hold her hand, but I do let her walk beside me to the station. Her presence: it's both foreign and comforting at the same time, somehow. I don't think I've ever seen her until now, but I'm unable to lose the feeling that I have met this girl before.

Once we finish the trek to the station, we board the train. Because this is the crowded fifth ring, there's usually a lot of corralling that occurs on our designated car. So much so, many children simply ride on the roof of the car. In my time, I've heard my share of urban legends about the ghosts of children, still in their selection attire, who haunt the tunnels where they lost their balance and were run over by the car.

But now, the girl and I came at a point anon, so the normally crowded car is left only half-full when we clamber aboard. It's something about the space that puts me at unease, just like the girl sitting next to me.

Who knows? Maybe the ghosts actually are real. I think darkly.

After a long ride, the train churns out a final cry as it pulls into the station. Because this car has no windows, the smoke cloud permeates the car and forces us all to cough concurrently.

There's no call from some guard for us to get off, which is odd but expected considering how early we are.

Once we get to the square, we both get our fingers pricked and are huddled in with the sparse amount of children present. I automatically move to the edge, and the girl does the same.

We wait for what seems like a half-hour, both of us watching the crowd grow bigger and more restless when she suddenly speaks. "My names' Kazumi. It's nice to finally meet you."

I grunt in response, but she continues to talk unrelentingly.

"Everyone calls you... 'Longshot', is it? Why?"

There's no way around this question so the only option is to talk, unfortunately.

"Well, when I was deposited, my …," I pause, having some difficulty using the word I've always tried to refrain from using. Amongst us orphans, the word is always painful to say, since many of us have been abandoned by our families. Just like what happened to me … "people left me with only some clothes and, for some reason, an arrow necklace."

I pull off a necklace from around my neck and show it to her. It's a tiny, model arrow that is well-made but with chipped paint. The tip is coated with silver, and the feathers all gold. I hope to myself that this is enough for Kazumi, but she continues onward.

"Really? Why?"

"Um.. ," to be honest, I never figured out why the stupid thing was among my only possessions. "It probably has some deeper meaning, one which I will not bother to find out."

My voice rises, maybe out of some provoked annoyance. Fortunately, this answer satisfies her.

"Oh, okay."

She never says anything more the entire time, fortunately. We both stand there in silence, and I manage to find some way to occupy myself as Joo Dee begins her speech. It's not hard, I simply zone out of the situation. I've gotten used to doing this, many times before. Because Kazumi does not talk again, I assume that she has done the same. We both stand there, sullen-faced, waiting for what fate has entailed for us. Die in the Element Games' arena or get worked to death in Six's factories.

The next time I look up, Joo Dee has arrived with her two envelopes, causing the crowd in front of me to stir nervously. Looking to my side, Kazumi is gone. Maybe she disappeared into the crowd. Well, no matter. Good riddance, I guess. But... something about that girl unsettles me, not a feeling that will leave me anytime soon.

The girl's name is called. "Is there a... Jin?"

A fairly plain girl walks forward, but she's too far in front of me to see clearly.

The boy's name is called too. "Is there a... Daichi?"

My first momentary reaction is to cringe. I truly detest it when people say my real name, maybe because it brings up too many bad memories of the past.

My next reaction is too walk to the stage. As I could expect, I am surprised, but not surprised at the same time. That's how I've always been; of the emotions I lack, surprise is one of them.

I conceal a look at Jin as I walk up the steps, but unfortunately, she does too. I look away instantly; maybe I don't attach myself to the one girl I'll have to kill. Then again, I don't attach myself to anyone.

After the selection ends, I'm filed with Jin into the goodbye rooms. They're surprisingly luxurious; the couch is lined with silk and plush, feather-filled pillows all tasteful shades of blue and indigo. The walls are, somehow, soft. It too is probably covered with silk, this time a more vibrant turquoise. There's a fireplace to the left, adorned decorative tile and warm, kindling fire roaring over its logs. It's inviting for a place where people doomed to gruesome deaths are allowed their final wills and testaments.

I recline on the armchair closest to the fireplace and stare at the wall blankly, finding some way to idle myself for the next hour by the looking out the window at what is probably my only view at the inner circle. The window's vantage point, however, isn't exactly scenic. Looking down, I see an alleyway, probably for the service people of the house nearby. It's lined with brick, a luxury product by most standards, but it's dirty and clearly not as cared for as most of the buildings. The ground is littered with scraps of paper and dirt. There's also a parked Satomobile, but it's rusty and unoccupied for the moment.

After watching for several minutes, I see someone, who is judging by her clothes a maid, walk into the alleyway and stick what appears to be a small syringe down her forearm. It's morphling; a province-wide problem. There's a couple people in our community home who are addicted to it. Normally, they die quickly of withdrawal.

Unexpectedly, someone enters at that moment. Of all people, it's Hitoshi. I can already tell by his air of urgency he's not here to give some heartfelt goodbye; he's here to deliver a message.

He pauses awkwardly at that moment, as if trying to remember what he was meaning to say to me. But the words never come; instead, he bends down and puts a tiny box on the small table between us.

Before Hitoshi disappears from sight for the last time, he manages to get out several parting words: "Um, good luck with the games and all."

I did say we weren't friends.

As the door closes, I reach over to see that box out of curiosity. The box seems to be hastily put together; the box has a faint emblem:

Center City Jewelers. We have a gold standard.

It has clear stains and a foul stench, like something that was thrown in the trash for an extended amount of time and only recently fished out.

I open it cautiously, and see a glint of silver buried deep in the contaminated jewel cushions. Before I investigate, I see a note tacked to the upper side of the box.

I'm so sorry you had to find out this way, but there wasn't much time left. I'll never forget you, Daichi.

- Kazumi.

Confused, I pull at the silver glint and receive a long necklace chain. It's very similar to the arrow necklace that I wear, but it never registers until I look down at the the small object hanging off the end of it. It's a bow, with worn bronze paint to give the appearance of wood.

It's not until I pull off my own necklace that I see the real resemblance. The arrow of my necklace fits perfectly into the bow of Kazumi's. It makes a perfect miniature replica of a bow and arrow set.

As the guards come in to drag me and Jin out to the waiting train, I, for the first time in a very long time, don't try to hide the emotion of shock on my face.

That's because a little, twelve year old orphan named Kazumi has just become my sister.

Toph, Province 7

The morning is still young when I slip away from the palace compounds. The sun has just begun to peak above the horizon, or at least I think. Everything feels slightly warmer on my skin, or that could just be me. The path is gravel, unfortunately, so I have a harder time keeping to it than normal.

My general rule of thumb is turn away whenever I feel the texture of grass under my feet, and that pretty much keeps me from making a fool of myself and bumping into a building.

Most people tend to think of blindness as an illness, but I consider a 'natural gift'. As you could guess, it heightens my other senses, like taste, smell, and touch, since everyone else is so dependent on vision. But besides that, I'm pretty sure it gives me another sense; intuition.

You see, everyone is judged on appearances first, or so I'm told. If you ask me, that's ridiculous. A beautiful person is necessarily intelligent or kind; they're just easy on the eyes. My blindness, well, it makes me see people past their facades for who they really are.

But maybe, that's what the world is really composed of; facades everywhere.

I continue to follow the dirt path until I stop at the edge of the compound, the gatehouse. My hand lingers over the wrought iron gate, the one last thing that separates me from the rest of Province 7. I finger around what must probably be the lock; it's cold and weathered from the elements, but yet somehow... alive.

With my earthbending I can feel the tiny, refined pieces of Earth in this cold lump of steel. Clearly, it can be bent, though not easily. Just like my earthbending, I've practiced a tiny amount of metalbending before, though I'm clearly an amateur.

I summon all of my strength at once, and focus all of it on the this tiny lock. I place my index and middle fingers on its top, and feel the locking mechanism begin to move underneath me.

Come on. I urge, as if the lock was a trained animal. Not much more.

I feel the lock shake a little bit, as if it was just about ready to turn. But then, it begins to shudder. Shoot - I relaxed too soon.

No, no, no, no, don't -

The lock snaps backward automatically, and I'm left back to where I was before. Sighing, I wrap both my hands around the gate's bars. I can hear the hubbub of Province 7's marketplace; heck, I can even smell it. But I just can go into it.

You see, I have only gone through this gate a grand total of twice this year. Once during selection, and once during a business banquet that my parents (extremely reluctantly) let me attend as the poster child for the Beifong Papyrus Company. As you could imagine, the investors cooed over me to the nth degree. I mean, I'm twelve but not an infant.

I am a Beifong, and Beifongs' have automatic Beifong privileges. The palace compound is enormous, to say the least. Most of servants have described it as "very pretty", fitting considering all the private gardens and chambers outfitted with expensive art that I'll never be able to visualize. There's very little for me to do in this boring, boring world, even though I can summon a jester at whim. But, what hurts me the most is the fact that there very much is a wide, wide world out there, one that I'll never go into because of my blindness.

Well, that's what my existence really totals to, a business strategy. My parents, they love to hate me, while I hate to love them. They've never said it verbally, but everyone, including the servants, know that I'm a defective child in their eyes. That is exactly the reason they imprison me here at the compound, they think I can't fend for myself out there.

Yeah, they're probably right, though. My earthbending is pretty weak, and my metalbending even worse. Maybe I should just stay put, if it's for the greater good.

Right then, I feel a vibration in the ground, headed right in my direction. I tense up immediately, expecting the patronizing words of my mother or father. Fortunately, it's neither.

"Mistress Toph? What in the world are you doing?"

I turn around and hear the woman speak more. Her tone is not cold like my mother, but rather scolding. All the more welcoming to me, rather.

"Ugh, your clothes! Your feet!" She swats around me with her hands, and I feel dust and dirt flying into the air. This makes me cough uncontrollably.

Now, the woman's tone turns softer and more comforting. She wraps her warm, supple arms around my midsection. Apparently she has also bent down, because I feel her warm breath in front of my face.

"Now you must be prepared for the big day, Mistress. Not with all this dirt, no."

This woman is the Nurse. More often than not, she's been overbearing in her job. But since she had her own stillborn baby, she's always looked after me as if I was truly her own and not just by locking me into the compound. She is more of a mother than any of my own parents, to say the least. From what I can tell, she has a hulking presence by her footsteps, so she is probably somewhat overweight. She wear a constant scent of cooked garlic as well as a common maid's uniform.

Then, the Nurse leads me back to the house, dragging me by my hand behind her.

"Now, now, your mother has a very special new dress for you. How exciting!"

I groan instantaneously. The special dresses tend to be the worst. If you ask me, I think it's quite dumb. I have absolutely no idea what I look like afterwards, but they take forever to put on anyways.

Ignoring all of the urges within me to slap away her hand and walk away, I grit my teeth.

"Oh what fun." I say, sarcastically enough to hope my Nurse picked up the hint. Unforunately, she didn't.

After at least an hour of being prodded, poked, and nudged through several dresses, the stylists finally decide they've found the right one.

"Oooh, it looks - ,"

" - So fabulous!,"

"Well, of course it would."

The trio giggles obnoxiously to themselves for at least two minutes. Listening to them talk; well, it's sort of like the a cross between the sound of a bad soprano, a dying cat, and nails on a piece of polished granite. That's Republic City speak in short for you.

They trot out of the room and the Nurse comes in.

"Ooh, you look so nice, Toph!"

"Yeah, thanks." I reply flatly. "Can you - ,"

She already rushes to my side, helping me along the house. You see, I can find my own way on stone and rock, mainly because I can use earthbending. But on the palace's wooden floors... it's all pretty much useless.

She leads me to the garage, where we both clamber into the Satomobile and we drive off to what must be the square. Most people welcome carpeted floors, but not me. They're not comfortable, they only muddle my earthbending and make me feel even more disorientated. Thankfully, our compound is in the downtown area of the district, so we get there quickly.

I climb out and say goodbye to the Nurse, who hands me a walking cane just in case. Because the square is made of paved stone, I only carry it over my right shoulder. From my earthbending, I feel movement, a whole lot of it, away from me.

Well, they have good reason to avoid me. I am a Beifong, and Beifongs have privileges. But... not exactly the best sort of privileges. When I do go out, I have to be surrounded with an convoy of guards, who is currently on all sides of twelve-year-old side for the girls. If anyone lays a finger on me, they pretty much get beaten to a pulp and are thrown in jail with a mock trial. It's unfair, I know, but I'm only a twelve-year-old blind girl so I can't argue with the system a.k.a my parents.

Joo Dee comes onto the stage and begins her "little" speech: "Welcome, welcome province citizens."

Oh, terrific.

When Joo Dee eventually completes her required speech, I suddenly feel the ground shake. No, it quite really shakes, like some sort of random earthquake. Maybe it's just because I'm blind or whatever, but all of these people's tension really translates into the ground.

"Let's select our tributes, province citizens."

I hear an envelope's seal break and the sound of unfolding paper, but nothing comes after that.

At that moment, I sense the irritation come through as well. We're all waiting, as patiently as possible at that, to get this whole stupid thing over with. But no... Joo Dee means to draw out the process.

"The female tribute is... ,"

I cross my arms and lean back, just waiting for all this to end. Obviously, I can't be chosen, since my parents probably rigged the Selection. They just can't afford to lose their best business asset.

"... Toph."

Toph, as in Toph Beifong? Wait, isn't that my name? That's my name!

The word thunders through my brain like a firecracker. The first emotion to surface is irritation.

What the hell?! My parents wouldn't have let me be picked! ...But then again, I could care less about them.

Wait, no. If I go up there like this, I'll just look like some bratty rich girl who got thrown out of her protective bubble (though according to others, that may be half-true). No, I think I'll need a different angle; maybe a girl that the Republic City sponsors can sympathize with.

Yes... just build a facade for yourself. It can't be that hard, can it?

"Is-is she here?"

Oh crap, I need to go up now.

I force myself to walk forward, but end up stumbling.

Wait - blind, innocent twelve-year-old. The sponsors would eat that up, so it works!

So, that's why I end up mock-stumbling across the square to get up to the stage even though I can walk perfectly fine. So, I guess I'll keep to this angle for now.

As Joo Dee helps me onto the stage, I think I even shed a few tears. Pathetic, I know, but I'll need to improve my chances when and where I can at this point.

"Now, for the male tribute. He is... ,"

The same process continues again as the male is called. He's not quite interesting, at least from what I can tell. In fact, I don't even recall remembering his name. Oh well, I'll have plenty of time to acquaint myself with him later.

"I'm so, so sorry!"

"This is our fault!"

It's at this moment precisely that I realize that I've never truly loved and cared about my parents. They locked me away in the palace, not for my well-being but for their selfish reasons. I don't really have the heart to indulge their cries for the ridiculous assurance that I'll come home. Hell, why should I comfort them when I'm the one going to die?

Both mother and father blubber away for a really, really long time, causing annoyance to bubble over inside me.

"Enough!" I shout, surprising both of them. "I'm going to die, and we all know that. Does that mean anything?"

"Well, of course, but - ," says mom.

"You - you kept me there my whole life." I interrupt, my voice rising on its own accord. "You never cared about me, you think I'm only a defect."

They both go silent, partly out of shock, and partly out of the fact I'm telling the truth.

"Well now, I'm off your hands. Happy now?"

My mother leaves first, but father stays behind for just a little longer.

"I - I love you Toph. I always will." His words are soft now, but they linger behind in the room as he leaves.

"I love you too." I whisper back, so soft even I can barely hear it.

A couple minutes after father leaves, my next visitor arrives. She's my Nurse, I can tell already by her permanent stench. Just as she arrives, she pulls me into an awkward but genuine embrace. I return the feeling; she is the one person I actually want to say goodbye to. After a minute, she breaks the silence first.

"I never say this much, but you're like the daught - ,"

"No, you don't I have to say that."

"But you are!" the Nurse asserts. "You might not win the Element Games, but you are pure of heart, Toph. No, I'm not kidding - you are. The spirits have reserved their own place for you in heaven, I'd say."

She rubs my nose, and we both giggle a little bit. Hearing her words, this may be the antidote for all the bad things that have happened to me today.

"Um, did my parents bring the token?"

"Oh, yes!"

There's a rummaging sound as she empties her apron's pockets. Given how long it takes, she probably isn't successful.

"Wait, where - ?"

I reach my hand across to where the pile of the pockets contents surely are and grab something randomly from the heap. My fingers happen to select something small, steel, and rusted, given the texture of chipped paint on it.

"No, that's not it."

"Yes, yes, I know. But what is it?"

She apparently bends over and looks.

"It's a... tuning fork? It's the thing all the court musicians use. I don't know how it ended up there... ,"

"Fine, this'll be my token."

Clearly, the Nurse is taken aback.

"You can't be serious?"

"No, I really am. There's nothing about this place that I really want to remember. Besides, the 'token' is probably just some necklace with advertising for Beifong Papyrus."

"Well, if that's what you want." she complies reluctantly.

I hold it close to my ear and tap it lightly. A droning sound emerges. It's absolutely perfect, I'd say. From the doorway, a guard rudely drowns out the sound.

"You have a minute left till the train departs. Hurry up already!"

The nurse turns to me suddenly, her tone becomes more serious as she continues. "Could you find her, up there?"

"Of course I will."

That is the moment she leaves. Ironically, I too am escorted out just seconds later.

The guards lead me out into the car and eventually into the train station. It's not a nice place, from what I could tell; there's a constant source of smoke that makes me want to cough incessantly. I follow my partner on to the train, putting the fork up to my ear for the last time. In response, I hear the sweet sounds of home.

Author's Note: Okay, here's the next chapter. Well, I've reached a grand, grand total of two readers by now. Hooray! Anyways, I'd really like to thank alysso and LilyMT-chan for sticking with this story in spite of all its unreliability-ness. I'll admit, Toph's chapter was rushed together.

So, that's pretty much it. I think there'll be about 6 more people to be reaped, and then we **finally** get to move on.