A twenty-nine year old Kohun walked through the snowy lanes that passed for streets in the small Southern Water Tribe village. It had been three years since he was last here and nothing had changed…almost nothing, anyway.

The tired man shuffled up to the hut that he hadn't seen in years. The tiny blue-eyed woman doing laundry in front of the house didn't even recognize him at first. His smile quickly jogged her memory, though. "Hello Senna." He said with longing warmth in his voice.

Senna just stood up and smiled, rushing over to her old friend and hugging him. For a moment they just held the embrace, laughing happily. "I'm glad you decided not to forget about us." She said after a moment.

Kohun just chuckled, a small bit of sorrow creeping into his heart. "I'm happy to be back."

Senna turned towards the house, calling to her husband and beckoning for Kohun to come inside. As they approached the door, a man as tall as Kohun stepped out. He paused, an expression of shock quickly turning into a joyous grin.

"So you finally married her, then?" Kohun asked Tonraq, motioning to his wife. "Took you long enough."

Tonraq couldn't find any words, all he could do was let out a booming roar of a laugh as the two lifelong friends embraced. "You crazy bastard!" Tonraq mused. "Never thought I'd see you again. Damn, I've missed you!" Senna lightly grabbed Tonraq's arm and shushed him, motioning towards the house. Tonraq sighed in remembrance of the child sleeping inside and quieted down a bit.

The three friends' cheerful reunion moved into the house, Kohun setting his travelling bags down near the door. "I've missed you both, too. Sadly I can't be staying here for long."

Senna made an expression of mock surprise. "Well hopefully the police will at least give you enough time to have dinner." She walked over to the boiling pot of Water Tribe noodles that she had prepared for dinner. Kohun couldn't help but feel overly welcome.

"Really?" He asked as he slipped off his heavy parka. "You wouldn't mind feeding a famous terrorist?"

Tonraq slapped his friend's back and plopped down at the table next to his wife. "Friends before politics." He chuckled, casually shrugging off the weight of the law. "Besides, you're family." Senna cast a sorrowful and nervous glance to her husband as Kohun sat down.

"Speaking of which," Kohun began. "I came down here to see Kiah, but someone else is living in our old house." He paused to look at Tonraq and Senna, seeing their expressions turn to sadness. "Did she leave town?" He asked, searching for an explanation.

They just sat there in silence. Senna began wringing her braided ponytail with her hands, something she always did when they were kids. Kohun couldn't understand why the mention of her sister made Senna feel so upset. He turned to look at Tonraq, probably his oldest and most trusted friend in the world. His friend's blue eyes held in them a sadness that Kohun knew all too well. It was the sadness of breaking the news to someone who didn't yet know.

It hit him like a hammer as he realized what his friend was about to do. As a soldier Kohun had done it many times. He had told the family of their son's or daughter's or father's or mother's inglorious death, doing his best to make it sound like they died for something. He never thought he would be on the receiving end of the news. It just had never crossed his mind. Even when Aang died, it didn't come as a surprise. It had been coming for a while. But this…this left Kohun dazed and confused.

"How?" Kohun asked, his mind ready to snap.

Tonraq did his best to maintain his composure. "She died in childbirth."

"My daughter?" Kohun said, his face filled with blankness. "My little Kira?"

Senna lowered her head as the tears began to flow in memory of her sweet sister. Tonraq did his best to say it, but there was no way that he could express what had happened without his voice breaking, even after three years. "I'm so sorry, Kohun." He finally said.

The most painful part of that moment was that Kohun couldn't feel pain. He felt numb. Without a single word he stood up and walked outside, leaving Tonraq to soothe his wife's grief. He stood there and looked out over the horizon, the sun having just recently set and a few stray flecks of brilliant orange gracing the darkening sky. He leaned back against the side of the hut, sliding down to the ground as it all finally came together in his mind. Kiah, a girl that he had promised to love until her dying breath was now gone. That wasn't the worst part. The most painful part was that he had left her alone.

He had left both of them. He had abandoned the girl that loved him with all of her heart to die alone giving birth to his child. And now here he was, ready to be a father and a husband to the two people that he should have been there for all along, and they were both gone. Never again would he feel her warm figure in his arms or smell her perfume. Never would he see his child's eyes looking up at him. Never would he hold his wife as they watched their young daughter playing with her friends, learning how to bend, growing up, or falling in love.

Kohun sat there as the light faded from the world and night swept over the landscape, the tears running freely down his cheeks as the cold wind battered his face. Both the sun in the sky and the sun that lit his life were now gone, nothing left of either of them but loving memories and brilliant streaks in the sky. He cried until he no longer had tears to shed, and then he just sat there, an empty husk of who he had been only minutes before.

He heard the soft crunch of snow interrupt his grief and self-loathing as a tiny figure jumped out of a small and moved towards him in the dark. He turned towards it, looking into the little girl's bright blue eyes.

"Why are you sad?" She asked. She couldn't have been more than three years old, but something in her stare made her seem much older.

Kohun found the strength within him to muster a smile and answer her. "I made a bad choice." He felt a sickening pit in his soul as he uttered the words. "And now I have to live with it."

The bright eyed girl sat down next to him, looking innocently up at his hard face. "Daddy shows me fun tricks when I'm sad." She said. "Wanna see a trick I learned?"

"Not now Aang." He muttered, not realizing his mistake of identity. Aang had always showed him quirky little airbending tricks when he was depressed and the way the little girl asked was so similar to the old man that Kohun actually thought for a moment that he was talking to his friend and not a three-year-old.

She cast him a glance of major annoyance. "Who's Aang?" She said. "My name's Korra!" To make sure he understood, she pointed her thumb at herself triumphantly. Kohun chuckled, recalling the name that Senna had always wanted to give to her first girl.

He took his eyes off of the child for a moment, reminded of how his own daughter would be that age if she were alive. When he looked back, little Korra was holding a small flame in her hands. Fearing for the child's safety, Kohun instinctively pulled the child back. "What are you doing?" He asked her, not even bothering to ask where she acquired the fire.

"It's my new trick. I found it last week." She smiled up at him, her palms opening up and summoning a flame from thin air. "I told you it would cheer you up."

Kohun stared in amazement at the flames. This little water tribe girl was firebending. He didn't know how or why, all he knew was that it was one of the strangest things he had ever seen. "You're right." He said. "That is a pretty cool trick. Have you shown your parents?"

Korra looked down and the small flame grew to be only a flicker. "I showed daddy a few days ago. But I think I made him mad. He looked at mommy all funny when I showed him and told me to go to my room." Kohun couldn't help but laugh as he imagined the scene. The child didn't understand the adult themes of her little misadventure, but he certainly caught it. "Well I think it's great, Korra."

Little Korra smiled, encouraged by his compliment. "I can make it real big! Look!" She stared into her palms for a moment, causing that small fire to sputter and expand suddenly. With a bright flash of light and a cry of pain, the flame disappeared. The little girl curled up, holding her hands underneath her armpits, trying to ease the pain of the burns. Tears welled up in her big blue eyes as she began to softly sob.

Kohun scooted over and put his arm around his niece. "Hey. It's okay." He calmed Korra, a feeling of patriarchal responsibility taking over. He gently looked at one of her hands, sighing in relief as the burn was extremely light. "You're lucky that's all that you did. Fire isn't a toy." He spoke in a rebuking, yet comforting tone. "You've got to be more careful."

Korra looked up at him, giggling through her tears. "You know a lot about fire, mister." His niece had a strong will, already cracking jokes after just burning herself.

Kohun flashed her a wry grin. "Well, I…"

"Korra!"

The two turned to look at Senna and Tonraq rushing towards them. "Uh oh." Korra muttered. Senna stooped down to check on her daughter, restraining a small gasp as she saw her burned fingers. "You were playing with fire again, weren't you? How did you even get out here?"

Tonraq rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Well, I never actually did fix that window."

Senna glared at her husband for a moment before picking her daughter up and attending to her. "We'll talk about this firebending business later." She said to both her husband and her daughter at once.

Korra tugged at her mother's sleeve and pointed towards Kohun. "Mommy, that nice man knows fire. He can help me." Her parents looked over to him like he was a caged dog that should be pitied, not sure if Kohun wouldn't just make more problems.

He smiled, somehow feeling that he might have a second chance at being there for the only family he had left. "I'll teach you how to firebend, Korra." He felt a weight being lifted from his heart, as if this was some redemption for how he had never helped his family in the past.

Korra's eyes brightened up, and Kohun instantly felt a bond with the three-year-old girl. He stooped down and smiled at her. "You can call me Uncle Kohun, by the way."