A/N: So…about that whole skipping The Beach thing. Didn't happen. This turned out differently than I expected, but it was an adventure throughout. I hope you enjoy it!
Side note: This is where I earn my T rating.
Thank you to all who continue to review, subscribe, and favorite. I've got almost as many followers as reviews; maybe some of you can help me earn some more? I would love hearing your feedback; you've no idea how happy I get seeing your reviews in my inbox!
Chapter Twenty-Three
Flight of the Kyoi
With all the running into old friends Mira had been doing, she really shouldn't have been surprised when Sanji showed up.
It'd been three days since they'd left Piandao's castle behind, but Mira wouldn't let Sokka's training regimen slip. Every morning she'd (gently) kick him awake, then spar with him by the outer edge of their camp. Zuko would sometimes sit off to the side, offering a rare comment once and a while. Mostly he would just wait for his turn to fight.
Mira had been looking forward to training that morning. The night before, they'd found a wide open meadow bordering a thick forest. The space would be the perfect place for sparring.
At least, it would be if half if it weren't occupied with a series of wagons and covered carts. Several people milled around, calling to each other and laughing loudly. If the other's weren't already awake, they would be soon.
"Uh…what's that?" Sokka asked uncertainly, rubbing his eye.
"I'm not…" Mira broke off suddenly as she caught sight of a symbol painted on one of the carts. A bright, gold-yellow sun stood out on the deep red canvas that was stretched across the frame of the wagon. Mira knew that sun. Had seen it every day for a year, back when she was thirteen.
"Zam?" Zuko came up to stand behind her shoulder. "Is everything alright?"
"Yeah," Mira said absently. "I just—it couldn't be…"
"Anything else you'd like to add, other than vague comments no one understands?" (Sokka got a little cranky in the mornings.)
"What's wrong?" Zuko asked, placing a hand on her shoulder. The contact startled her for a moment; he hadn't touched her much since the Fire Nation ship.
She tore her gaze away from the caravan. "I think I know them."
"Are you sure?"
"Only one way to find out, yeah?" She took off across the field, leaving a puzzled Sokka and Zuko to explain things to the others, who were just starting to crawl out of their tents.
The cold morning dew of the meadow soaked through her slippers and numbed her toes, but Mira didn't care. The sun had barely crested the horizon and sent warm rays of light filtering through the branches of the surrounding forest, painting the meadow grass in varying shades of green. Wildflowers poked up in rebel clusters, creating bursts of color in random patterns. Mira could understand why the caravan had stopped here; open spaces like this were perfect for campfires and large gatherings. The natural beauty of the place only added to the appeal.
As beautiful as the meadow was, however, Mira's attention was focused solely on the people. There was one face she was looking for in particular…
There! Emerging from the lead wagon. A tall woman in her late twenties with silky black hair stepped out from the back of the cart. Dressed in a loose, flowing blue shirt and a deep purple gypsy skirt, she shook her hair out and tied it up in a colorful scarf. Piles of bangles clattered noisily on her wrists. Her feet were bare, save for a bloodred ribbon tied around her right foot. Red face paint ran in one long stripes from the tip of her nose up to her forehead.
She looked exactly the same as when Mira had last seen her. "Sanji!" she called.
The woman looked up. Her eyes narrowed as she took in Mira, and the katana strapped to her hip. As a hand drifted down towards the knife Mira knew she kept tucked in her skirt, Sanji asked in a short, clipped voice, "Who's asking?"
"Aw, c'mon. I don't look that different, do I?" Mira whined. "You must be gettin' old, if you don't remember your favorite student."
Sanji's eyes narrowed even further as she scanned Mira from her wild hair (pinned back in its usual braid—the acquisition of the katana made the hairpin darts unnecessary) to her dew-soaked slippers—and the scarlet ribbon tied around her left ankle. Eyes widened, then relaxed. "As I live and breathe," Sanji said, chuckling. "You mean no one's killed you yet?"
"Not for a lack of trying."
"Still trying to nick things off Fire Nation soldiers?"
"Not trying," Mira corrected. "Succeeding."
"Still got a death wish, then," Sanji said, grinning. "But I taught you well." Her gaze drifted to something past Mira's right shoulder. "Who're they, then?"
Mira turned in a whirl of skirts to see the others hovering on the edge of camp, looking more than a little uncertain. Mira waved one arm in the air, then gestured for them to join her.
"This is Sanji, the gypsy who took me in all those years ago," she told them as the approached. "Sanji, these are my friends."
Sanji regarded them with a critical eye. "Friends? Girl I knew didn't hold much to the idea of friends."
"The girl you knew hadn't met the right ones yet."
Sanji blinked in surprise before letting out a bark of laughter. "By Agni's great flames, you have changed," she said. She looped an arm around Mira's shoulder. "Now, come, join us for breakfast. I want to meet these friends of my most difficult student."
Breakfast was a more interesting affair than it'd been in a while. Most of the gypsy camp, curious about the new faces, congregated in a wide circle around a raging fire, swapping plates and talking raucously. Aang and the others looked a little intimidated, but Mira had expected that. Gypsies were bold and unapologetic; the lifestyle didn't appeal to everyone.
A steady stream of people dropped by to chat with the newcomers. Mira only knew about half of them, but that wasn't surprising. The turnover rate for gypsy caravans often varied. Some stayed for weeks, some for months, some for years. It was a mercurial community, always shifting and changing dynamics.
It did help that Sanji, the caravan's genshu, could personally vouch for Mira. Five years ago, Sanji's father had been genshu (leader) of the Nichirin caravan. When he'd died, Sanji had taken his place. And if she trusted Mira, then everyone else would follow her lead.
And so those gypsies who stuck around the campfire spent their morning chatting with the new arrivals. As much as Mira wanted to circulate among the camp and find familiar faces, she stayed with the others to act as a kind of buffer. For someone with such a caustic and flighty sense of tact, she could be remarkably diplomatic when she wanted to be.
First to approach was Kijutsu, a young, tiny girl with waist-length hair and huge eyes. She smiled shyly at Mira and the others. "Hi Mimi," she said timidly, using the nickname the younger ones had given her. "D'you remember me?" Her eyes darted around uncertainly, refusing to make contact.
"Of course I do," Mira said, bending down to look the girl in the eye. She smiled gently, remembering how acerbic she had been at thirteen. Kijutsu had never really gotten the full force of it, but Mira still wanted to show the younger girl that she had grown to be kind. "You got any new magic tricks to show my friends?"
Kijutsu glanced nervously at the others and shifted her weight from foot to foot. She mumbled something inaudible.
Mira was about to lean over and whisper encouragement when Aang piped up. "You can do magic? That's awesome!" He beamed at her, and Mira was pretty sure almost none of his enthusiasm was faked.
Kijutsu seemed to perk up at that. She held out a hand, then opened it to reveal a small silver coin. Closing it, she tapped her hand twice, then reopened it to show an empty hand.
"It's in your other hand, isn't it?" Sokka asked.
Kijutsu smiled and opened her second hand. It, too, was empty. Beckoning Mira closer, she whispered something in her ear.
Mira snickered and looked to Sokka. "She says to check your pockets."
Sokka rolled his eyes, but froze mid-movement as he pulled out a silver coin. "How'd you do that?!" he spluttered.
Kijutsu giggled and shook her head.
"That's great, Kij," Mira said warmly. "Getting a lot better."
Kijutsu turned bright pink and stammered her thanks before fleeing to the safety of her mother's skirts.
Next came Meilin, a loud, curvy girl who immediately tried flirting with Sokka and Zuko. Sokka choked on his breakfast and fell into a coughing fit while Zuko turned a faint pink color and did his best to ignore her. Mira laughed so hard she nearly fell off her log.
A stocky boy named Sheng stopped by to clap a hand on Mira's shoulder and comment on her katana. She declined his offer to spar, but directed him to Sokka, who looked equal parts excited to find a new opponent and irritated that his training would not cease even within the gypsy camp.
On and on it went, long past the time breakfast had ended. Old faces stopped by to greet Mira, while new ones paused to introduce themselves. By the time the flow of people stopped, it was already late morning.
Leaving her friends behind, she sought out Sanji, who was mending a skirt outside a newly erected tent. The gypsy looked up as she approached. "How's it feel, being back in the caravan?"
"Dunno. Sorta weird, I guess. Like everything's different now."
"I think you're the one who's different." Sanji motioned to the seat next to her. Mira took it, along with the ripped shirt, needle, and thread that followed it.
"I don't disagree," Mira said, words coming slowly as she tried to thread the needle. She succeeded on her third attempt, and carefully began stitching.
"What happened to you?" Sanji asked, resuming her own work. "You were so angry at everything when I found you, so distrustful. Looking at you today…I can hardly believe that it's the same person."
Mira was quiet for a long time as she remembered the night Sanji had taken her in. It hadn't been one of her best. She'd just gotten over the sickness suppressing her bending had caused, and she hadn't eaten in two days. As good a thief as she was, she was still an amateur.
Which is why Sanji had caught her the minute she'd tried nicking the woman's purse.
It'd been dangling right on her hip, just within reach to snatch. Mira figured she could take it and disappear in the open-air market of the town square. Needless to say, things didn't go quite according to plan.
Mira managed to actually secure the purse, but before she could run off, Sanji reached out and snatched her wrist in a vise-like grip. "And just what do you think you're doing, little street rat?" she asked, a snakelike smile on her face. "I don't think that belongs to you."
Mira cursed up a storm and pitched quite a fight, but Sanji wasn't letting go anytime soon. She watched Mira was a curious look on her face. "Not a bad lift, really," she said, sounding impressed. "Actually managed to get it off me. Ma and pa not around, then?"
Mira stopped struggling then and glared at her. "Piss off."
"My, my," she said. "Got a little firecracker on our hands." She considered something, then asked, "I could teach you how really steal, if you wanted. Not the little grab and run you pull, but the smooth lifts. I'm a gypsy, little firecracker. Travel with my caravan, and I'll show it all to you."
"What's the catch?" Mira asked immediately.
Sanji's face shifted from amusement to curiosity (and maybe a little bit of pity). "My, you don't trust anyone, do you? Smart girl. Very well, then. The catch is you're working for me. Anything you snatch, I get a piece of. In return for my teaching, you'll get food and shelter. But ultimately, you're my student and you work for me."
Mira deliberated on the offer. It was a little sudden, honestly, considering that she'd just tried to lift her purse. But the woman was definitely a gypsy, the clothes and facepaint told her that much. And gypsies were known for their thieving abilities, so she wasn't lying about that either. Mira thought there might be a different catch than what she'd said, but Mira was good with a knife and knew how to cut and run. And if what she was saying about the food was true…
Well, maybe she'd stick around for a little while.
A "little while" turned into a whole year as Sanji's teaching turned out to be more invaluable than Mira could have ever believed. But eventually, the time had come to move on, and she hadn't looked back.
And now here she was, mending a shirt (well, trying to) next to her teacher, like it hadn't been two years. But it had, and Mira was different, and now Sanji was wondering how.
The question still hung in the air, so Mira began to answer, not entirely sure where her sentences would even end up. "I found a cause greater than myself. I found something bigger than me, something that I could do to make up for my past. And they showed it to me," she said, referring to Aang and company. "They were some of the first to stick with me through the really hard things." She snuck a sideways look at Sanji. "You were the first, you know. And I realize that I never said thank you for that."
Sanji looked at her in surprise. Then she smiled. "Time has done nothing but good things to you, my little firecracker," she said. Something flickered across her face—too fast for Mira to catch—and she said, "Speaking of…" Standing up, she turned to set her sewing down and beckoned to Mira. "Come with me. I'll fix that shirt later."
Mira, after looking at her jagged attempt at mending, didn't even argue.
Sanji led Mira to the main campsite, where several of the men were busy setting up a fleet of colorful, patchwork tents. Mira scanned the crowd, than looked to Sanji in confusion. "You wanted to show me…tents?"
"No," Sanji said mysteriously. "I want to show you someone who is currently in a tent."
Mira was about to ask what in the seven hells she was talking about, but then her breath caught in her throat as a familiar figure ducked under a tent flap and emerged into the sunlight. He blinked lazily and lifted a hand to shield his face from the morning sun.
The boy in question was around seventeen years old, with hair so black it had a blue-ish tint to it. He was tall and lean, all legs and torso. His face was sharp, with cheekbones that jutted out slightly and hooded golden-brown eyes that sunk a little into his face. Though Mira hadn't seen him in two years, he still made her stomach twist in knots. Damn him.
She remembered the first time she'd met the boy, when Sanji had sent her to the musicians with a question about that night's performance. He'd popped out from one of the storage wagons, a bored look on his face as he asked her what she wanted. His appearance had startled her, and to her horror, had sent blood rushing to her cheeks. She hadn't known this until later, but apparently she'd already earned a reputation for being prickly and standoffish, so the boy had taken great delight in being the cause of her agitation. After that, he'd go out of his way to flirt with her and embarrass her, though not to the point of cruelty. He had an uncanny knack for knowing when to back off, and that (combined with his attractive looks) made her unable to hate him.
He was still too attractive to hate.
Sanji's voice rang out in the clearing. "Akisu!" The boy did a slow about-face in their direction and his eyes alighted on Mira. "Look who stumbled in," Sanji said, gesturing to her protégé with a knowing smile on her face.
A slow, lazy grin crawled across Akisu's face, and as much as Mira tried to resist, she felt her lips curve into a small smile. He ambled over until he stood before her, gaze scanning her with an intimacy that (despite her wealth of confidence) brought a rush of blood to her cheeks.
But she wasn't the immature thirteen-year-old he'd met. She was sixteen now, and while she may not have gained much experience since then, she possessed more true confidence (and maybe even a few curves). They were on a more even ground now, and she'd be damned if she wasn't going to take advantage of that.
"Mira," he said. "You filled out well."
"So did you, apparently," she replied coyly. She couldn't quite match the flirtatiousness of his once-over, but she did allow her eyes to scan him quickly.
Akisu's eyebrows flew up and he let out an amused snort. He looked to Sanji. "Sure this is the right one?" he asked. "The Mira I remember was much more…reserved."
Lifting a shoulder in a half-shrug, she said, "If you're complaining…"
His answer was a little too quick to be considered nonchalant, forcing her to suppress a triumphant smile. "No! It's…nice."
"Well, I've got some mending to do, so I'll leave you two to catch up." Sanji smirked at Mira and backed away, eyes dancing with amusement.
"Real subtle," she muttered, shooting Sanji an unhappy glare.
"She isn't one for being discreet, is she?" Akisu agreed, coming up to stand by Mira's side.
Mira found herself fiddling with the hem of her skirt, suddenly unsure of what to say. Dammit, she was supposed to be turning the tables on him! "So…how have you been?" She winced at the awkwardness of the question.
He raised an eyebrow, and Mira fought down an embarrassed flush. "I've been well," he answered. "Sanji's been teaching me the dances."
Mira's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "I thought you played the baiorin?" Akisu's long, spidery fingers were perfect for stringed instruments. The last time Mira had been here, he'd been receiving lessons from Kangen, the best strings player in the camp.
Akisu shrugged. "I still do. But there is nothing more for Kangen to teach me, so I decided to learn a new art."
"You any good?"
He smiled lazily. "Perhaps we will find out at the gathering tonight."
Mira felt bold. "Save a dance for me, then."
"But of course," he said smoothly.
She smiled at him, letting her lips curve up slowly as she looked up at him from under her eyelashes. It was a trick Colie had taught her, though Sanji had mentioned it was a good way to distract a mark. In this case, Mira was using it as Colie had intended (she hoped).
Akisu blinked in surprise at her, then shook his head chuckled. "You are the same little spitfire who stumbled into our camp, cursing the world and scowling at everything." His finger gently touched her chin and lifted it up. "Except you're much cuter now."
Mira's skin tingled long after he pulled his hand away.
Sanji found her not much later and pulled her off to the side. "I've a favor to ask."
"That doesn't sound good."
"Well, it's not so much of a favor as a request. That you can't really back out of."
"So it's an order."
"You're so negative."
"Will you just tell me what it is already?"
"I want you to dance at the gathering tonight."
"Oh, that's all? Sure."
"…I want you to dance Flight of the Kyoi."
Mira's eyes nearly bugged out of her head. "You want me to what? No, forget it."
"Ah, but you already said yes."
"I said yes to dancing, not to Flight! Sanji, I can't do that."
Sanji shrugged. "Why not? You've got all afternoon to practice."
"Oh, well in that case…"
"Really?"
"No!"
Sanji pouted, making her look much younger than she was. "Mir, you're a good dancer. Like, really good. You'll be fantastic, I promise."
Mira didn't buy it. "And if I end up making a fool of myself?"
"Someone as graceful as you? Impossible."
"It's not and you know it," Mira grumbled, but damn it all, she could feel herself weakening.
Sanji sensed it too, and went for the kill. "For me, please? I know you can do it."
Mira made the mistake of looking up into her mentor's wide, nut-brown eyes. It was over. She sighed gustily. "Fine. I'll do it."
Sanji squeezed her tight. "You won't regret it!"
"…I already am."
After quickly explaining her future absence to Katara, Mira followed Sanji back through the woods to a clearing the dancers had already claimed for practice. A few familiar faces waved to her as she passed, while the rest looked on curiously. Sanji brought Mira to the middle and lifted a hand to call attention. "As some of you may know, this is Mira. She lived with us a few years ago, and to celebrate her brief return, she'll be performing Flight of the Kyoi. I'll need a few of you to help her practice this afternoon."
Two voices immediately called out in perfect synchronicity, "We'll do it!" Two girls skipped up to meet them.
"Yori! Yuki!" She hugged them both. "I didn't see you this morning."
"Training," they said in unison.
"Sanji's got us up at dawn to work," Yuki lamented.
"But now we're going to help you!" Yori added.
Despite being only a year or two older than Mira was, the girls stood a few inches shorter than she (which they more than made up for in vibrant personality). They wore their long dark hair in side plaits; Yori to the right, Yuki to the left—though Mira strongly suspected they often switched just to screw with people. For they were identical twins, and without the distinction of hair, no one could tell them apart.
Well, Sanji could. But she was the only one. Even Mira was unable to distinguish the two, and it wasn't for a lack of trying.
Both were accomplished dancers in their own right, and more often than not took over as dance tutors when Sanji was occupied with genshu duties. Either of them would be more than qualified to perform Flight, prompting Mira to ask Sanji, "Why don't they do it? Or you? You could dance it better than I could."
"No!" Surprisingly, the refusal came from the twins.
"You've got to be the one to dance it!"
"You're the guest of honor—"
"—it won't be any good unless it's you!"
"We'll show you everything, don't worry."
Mira blinked dazedly. She'd forgotten how overwhelming the twins could be.
Sanji chuckled. "That's enough, girls. Don't tire her out yet; we haven't even begun."
The twins nodded sharply, and in a single instant, they snapped into instructor mode. "Alright, show us what you can do," Yori ordered.
"Some music! Whatever you've got, please," Yuki called out. A few musicians sat near the edge of the clearing, ready to play whenever the dancers needed them. At Yuki's command, they scrambled to collect their instruments and launched into a light melody.
Mira cocked her head to listen for a moment, and when she was ready, stepped into the beat. As she danced, her mind went through a mental checklist of moves she knew the twins would want to see. Some she could work into the song, some she couldn't, but she wasn't going to force that. Better to do a good job than throw sloppy steps together.
The music quieted suddenly. Mira looked up to see Sanji with her hand up, eyes sharp and critical. Flashbacks of her first lessons raced through her mind; her palms began to sweat involuntarily.
"Not bad," she said finally. "Better than I thought, at least. Have you been practicing?"
"Not really. Did a performance a couple weeks ago, but haven't kept up with it."
"Well, you've remembered quite a lot. Girls? What do you think?"
The twins instantly launched into their critique. "Your isolations are a little sloppy—"
"I knew you were gonna say that!"
"—But they're not too bad."
"Fluidity is pretty good—"
"—But your feet are kinda stiff and blocky."
"That'll be easy to fix."
"So, all in all—"
"—with a few small fixes—"
"—you'll be fine!"
The preceding conversation whipped back and forth from one twin to another, with Mira only managing a small sentence in edgewise. The last phrase they said simultaneously, beaming at a very bemused Mira.
Sanji chuckled. "Well, you two seem to have it in hand. I think I'll leave her to you and come check back in later."
Yuki rubbed her hands together. "Now then, let's start on those hips…"
The lessons began, and for all Mira's whining and complaining, she didn't mind them too much. Yori and Yuki were good tutors, patiently pointing out a wrist that was too stiff or an isolation to be tightened up. It probably helped that Mira was a fast learner who genuinely enjoyed dancing itself. When she'd first started, the concept had seemed silly, and she'd resisted Sanji's instructions for the first few weeks. Then she'd actually seen her mentor truly dance.
Yes, Sanji had danced in front of her before. You can't really take dance lessons and never see your instructor perform, after all. But that night had been different. For the first time, Mira had seen the power behind the art.
It'd been Flight of the Kyoi, coincidentally, that had opened up Mira's eyes. Of course, if any dance was going to change her mind, Flight would have been it. There was a primal sway in the movements that had captivated Mira and left her with goosebumps. The following morning, Mira had thrown herself into lessons with a new fervor. Actually, in retrospect, Sanji had probably noticed what had caused Mira's change of heart, prompting the request to perform that very dance.
But Flight of the Kyoi was difficult. Very, very difficult, as Mira was learning.
"I can't do it," she huffed finally, collapsing to the ground. "I came, I tried, I failed. Go on without me."
"Don't be silly," Yori said, looking down at her, hands on hips. "You've got half of it down."
"Barely!"
Yuki rolled her eyes and scoffed. "Big baby."
Mira propped herself up on her elbows. "What did you say?"
"You heard me."
Mira considered her words, then fell back on the grass again. "Won't work," Mira sang in a tired sing-song. "I am too tired to care."
"Hey, Mir? Did you want some lunch?"
Mira craned her head back to see Katara a few steps into the clearing, carrying a tray with a steaming bowl. "Katara, you are a goddess! But I don't think I can move right now, so if you could just put it down somewhere, I'll get to it when my muscles have stopped seizing up."
Katara set the tray down and walked over to peer down at Mira. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, she's just being a drama queen," Yori said, offering a hand to pull Mira up. Mira made a face, but took it. As she popped up, she saw Yuki staring at Katara with a very familiar look in her eye.
"Hello, there," she said, drawing out the first word. She scanned Katara from head to toe, and her smile widened. "I knew you brought friends, Mira, but you didn't say they were cute," she said, winking.
"Um…excuse me?" Katara stammered.
"Pardon my sister," Yori said dryly. "She does this a lot."
"I'm Yuki," she said, extending a hand. "And you are…?"
"Katara," the younger girl said, cautiously shaking her hand. She shot a semi-panicked look to Mira.
"Yuki, Katara doesn't swing your way," Mira said. "Just leave it."
"Well, how do you know?" Yuki asked. "Have you asked her?" She turned to Katara. "Has she?"
"What?" Katara looked utterly lost.
"Yuki likes girls," Mira explained. "She's flirting with you."
Katara turned a violent shade of pink. "Oh, I'm—I'm not, I don't…"
"Well, I guess that answers that question," Yori said chuckling.
Yuki's face fell. "Why do all the cute ones go for guys?" she whined.
Yori patted her shoulder. "You'll find someone," she soothed. "There's always Rona, in the Torin caravan."
Yuki perked up at that. "That's true." She gave Katara an apologetic smile. "Sorry about that. I've been told I come on strong."
Katara's blush had dulled to a more rosy color. "It's fine. I'm sorry if I embarrassed you."
Yuki blinked in surprise, then roared with laughter. "I flirt with her, and she apologizes for embarrassing me! You are too much."
"…Thanks?"
"Hey, you wanna stick around for a lesson?" Yuki asked. "You look pretty graceful."
"Only if Yori tutors her," Mira interjected. "You get a little handsy when you flirt."
"You never seemed to mind," Yuki shot back.
"Don't flatter yourself."
"Anyway," Yori cut in loudly. "Katara, I'll show you one of the simpler dances, if you'd like." As she led the waterbender away, she turned back to scowl at Mira and Yuki. "You two still have a dance to practice, don't you?"
"Yeah, yeah," Yuki grumbled, waving her sister off. "I got it." She turned back to Mira and put her hands on her hips. "Now where were we?"
"You were about to give me a lunch break because I can't possibly do the next section on an empty stomach?"
"You can and you will."
"Dammit, Yuki—"
"Once you've got it, we'll break for lunch."
"Pretty sure this counts as torture," Mira mumbled, but she stepped into position anyway. Yuki began to clap her hands to establish the beat, and Mira began to dance.
It took ten minutes longer than it should have, but she eventually mastered the steps and Yuki allowed her to rest. Mira descended on the bowl Katara had brought her like a ravenous wolf-bear. After she'd inhaled her lunch, she wandered over to sit and watch Yori teaching Katara.
"Nope, you've got to put your foot right there," she was saying, pointing to a spot on the ground, "and you've got to loosen up your wrists. Think of water flowing through your arms."
Mira had to bite her lip hard to keep from laughing, and Katara looked at her with barely disguised amusement. "I think I can do that," she said. Her arms rippled in the air as she turned, drawing a wide grin from Yori.
"That's perfect," she said, clapping her hands. "You're not half-bad at this."
"I don't know," Katara said, raising an eyebrow at Mira. "This seems pretty easy. Why complain so much?"
Yori and Yuki sniggered. "Oh, honey," Yuki said, "Mira's not doing that."
"She's got Flight of the Kyoi—"
"—one of the hardest dances out there."
"And you think she can do it?" Katara asked.
"Ouch," Mira said dryly. "Nice to see you've got faith in me."
Katara looked sheepish. "Sorry. What I meant to say was, you think she can learn it in an afternoon?"
Yori shrugged. "Mira's one of the best Sanji ever taught. Best thief, and best dancer."
"Well, maybe not as good as us," Yuki said, waggling her eyebrows. "But we're teaching her, so what can go wrong?"
Mira let out a sharp bark of laughter. "Oh, you never wanna ask that."
"Then perhaps it's time we start rehearsal again, hm?" Yuki said. "Don't you want to do the dance justice?"
"I didn't even want to do the damn thing," Mira grumbled as she stood up.
Yuki clicked her tongue. "Such a sour puss."
For all of Mira's groaning and grumbling, she did actually enjoy rehearsal. The only reason she continued complaining was that her pride wouldn't allow her to admit it. Something in the way that the twins looked at her throughout the afternoon told her that maybe they knew it, too.
Regardless, Mira still didn't feel entirely comfortable performing the dance. She knew the choreography, yes, but actually executing the steps was an entirely different matter.
"This is going to suck," Mira said for the hundredth time that day. The sun was approaching the horizon, which meant that the performance was drawing close. Rehearsal had ceased as the dancers gathered to dress in their costumes and paint their faces in the traditional way. Excited chatter filled the clearing, but Mira was too nervous to listen in to any of it.
Yori and Yuki had dressed and painted themselves earlier so they could assist Mira. The prep for Flight was more involved than for the other dances, so it wasn't something Mira could do on her own.
Mir poked at her costume and eyed it warily. It looked more like a pile of shredded cloth than it did actual clothes. But as Yori and Yuki slid it on her and fastened the snaps, it began to take shape.
The skirt consisted of several silky strips of red and orange cloth varying in width. All were attached to an elastic waistband that hung low on her hips, above a pair of skintight red shorts. The silk cascaded like a waterfall past her legs, revealing the occasional glimpse of pale skin.
The top was tighter than what she was used to wearing, but it wasn't uncomfortable by any means. It was also a little lower cut than she would've chosen for herself, but she thought of blue-black hair and an easy smile, and thought that perhaps wearing it for one night wouldn't be so bad. The material was studded with shimmering grains that sparkled in the low light.
Two strips ran from the straps of the top down to an elastic loop that she wore around her middle finger. Several more strips of fabric drifted down from the elastic, where they floated gently in the air. When Mira spread her arms out, she looked like she wore shredded wings.
Her hair had been let down from the braid she'd tied it up in. Yori's sure hands ran through the thick waves, weaving in ribbons and charms and feathers wherever she could. It reminded Mira very much of how she used to wear her hair.
The painting took much longer than dressing did, since it wasn't just her face they were decorating. Her stomach had to be traced with delicate curlicues, as did her shoulders and feet. The cold paint tingled and raised goosebumps on her skin, but Mira didn't mind. She loved seeing the artwork dancing across her skin in its own way.
Her face took the most time to complete, since it wasn't just a few lines or symbols. No, her entire face was to be coated. Mira sat patiently as Yori and Yuki leaned over her, dabbing paints on with fingers and brushes. She didn't even try to guess what design they were using, and instead resigned herself to waiting for the finished product.
Finally, after a painstaking amount of small corrections and waiting for the paint to dry, Yuki held out a small mirror. Mira took it in her hands, looked at herself, and gaped.
The twins had outdone themselves with their painting. The basecoat was a light imperial red color that coated her entire face. Her lips were painted a darker crimson shade. Her eyelids had been colored white, while subtle yellow and deep orange lines crept inwards from the borders of her face. She looked…a little inhuman, actually.
Well, considering the dance, that was probably a good thing.
Deep drumbeats began to drift through the woods from the direction of the caravan. The show was about to begin.
Yori and Yuki squeezed her hands and smiled at her as they led her from the clearing to the gathering. Thankfully (or not, depending on how you looked at it), Flight of the Kyoi was the first dance of the night. After she was done, Mira would wipe the makeup off and join everyone else in the common dances. All she had to do was get through the dance, and then she could relax.
Right before she stepped out from the cover of the trees, she paused to roll her shoulders back and smooth out her face. Even before the dance began, she would be playing a different otherworldly character. She had to act like it.
The low music that had been playing slowly drifted out, and the rumble of hushed voices petered out to silence. Mira took this as her cue, and padded forward.
Her feet were bare, save for that ever-present ribbon. They moved carefully, picking her way across the grass in a feline manner. A small gap appeared in the ring of people surrounding the dancing area, which closed as soon as Mira stepped through.
All eyes were on her as she settled herself in the center of the circle. Torches had been staked into the ground every few feet around the outside as the sun went down, casting flickering firelight across Mira's body. Her shadow rippled across the ground, and in that moment before the music started, Mira began to recognize the unearthly power of the song.
An irregular drumbeat burst to life, starting the song and propelling Mira into motion. And though she'd been performing the dance all afternoon, there was something different about this time. Instead of focusing on the technique, she let the music fill her bones and move her limbs.
That wasn't to say Flight suddenly became easy. It still took all of Mira's concentration as she stomped and spun across the ground. The beat was quick and erratic, leaving her no time to rest and very little room for error.
This was worlds away from the performance she'd given at Aang's little party. That had been one of the sultrier dances in her repertoire—Mira had been going for shock value, after all. Flight was more tribal and primal, containing less rippling movements and more footwork. Add in an unpredictable drum beat, and you had a song very few could perform to. Some brave soul had dared try it, though, and Flight of the Kyoi had been born.
Mira stomped the ground and spun, flinging her arms out so the scraps of cloth would flare into the air. She lifted them up, and was enveloped in the fabric. Faces flashed by, too quick for her to identify.
Her eyes fluttered shut as she brought her arms down, and she was reminded of the feeling she got when firebending. Only instead of the fire racing through her veins, it was the music.
Her body seemed to move of its own accord as Mira reopened her eyes, though she knew she was only obeying muscle memory. As she turned, she caught glimpses of other dancers joining her in the circle. Faster and faster they passed, until they were only blurs of color surrounding her. Unlike herself, they were dressed in every shade imaginable: blues as vibrant as the summer sky, purples so dark they were nearly black, greens that rivaled the vitality of the forest around them, whites that sparked orange in the firelight, pastels that spoke of the blossoming spring enveloping them. Mira stood in the center of it all, clothed in reds and oranges and yellows, the spark behind this frenzied dancing.
They moved into the final parts of the song, the music rising to a fever pitch. Feet stomped, hands clapped, ribbons were thrown into the air and wound around bodies. Louder and louder it got, until with one last resounding crash, Mira threw her arms high. The ribbons on her arms flew up and out, and for a single second, it looked like she might take flight, shredded wings and all.
There was a moment of silence, then thunderous applause tore through the air. Fingers formed wolf whistles, hands clapped shoulders, feet pounded the ground in approval. Mira stood in the middle of it all, chest heaving, sweat dripping from her skin, and she absorbed the sound, saving it back in the corner of her mind. She wanted to remember this in all its messy, chaotic glory.
"I told you!" Sanji's voice crowed out over all the others as she approached. "I told you, didn't I?"
"Yeah, yeah," Mira said, but she was smiling widely. Adrenaline raced through her body, making everything seem louder and bigger than it really was.
"You did me justice, firecracker," she said fondly, gently tugging on a small braid. Before she could say anything else, her eyes focused on something behind Mira and she swore. "I told them not to—sorry, I'll be back." She hurried off, leaving the twins to sweep in and sandwich Mira in a tight hug.
"That was great!"
"Not as good as Sanji—"
"—but no one's as good as her."
"But still, for someone who hasn't been dancing for a year—"
"—that was really good."
"Can't breathe, guys," Mira squeaked out.
They pulled back, identical grins on their faces. "And you thought you couldn't do it," Yori chastised.
Mira made to reply, but a new, deeper voice cut in. "Not bad." Akisu was standing behind her, a small smile on his face.
"Good luck," Yuki whispered in a sing-song. She dodged Mira's elbow and melted into the crowd, dragging her sister behind her.
Idiots.
She found Akisu's expectant face waiting for her as she turned back. "Oh, uh, thanks," she said, after realizing she hadn't responded to his compliment.
A low, melodic note rang out in the air, saving her the trouble of formulating something else to say. Couples began to take places within the circles, signaling the start of the common dances. "Care to join me?" Akisu asked, holding a hand out.
Mira reached out to take it, but stopped short when she saw the red lines running across the back of her hand. She'd forgotten she was still painted. "Can you give me a moment to wash the paint off?" she asked. "Might be nice to see the face of your partner."
"Oh, I think it will be," he said smoothly.
Mira's blush burned underneath the red paint. She hurried off to the clearing, where Yori and Yuki were cleaning their own arms. They looked up as she burst in.
"The hell are you doing back here? You've got a clean shot!" Yuki scolded, throwing down her paint-stained cloth. "I was forced to watch you two awkwardly flirt two years ago; I will not go through that again!"
"Calm down," Mira said, picking up the cloth and wiping at her face. "I'm just cleaning up. He's still waiting for me."
"Oh. Well, that's alright, then."
"Glad you approve," Mira said sarcastically. She scrubbed the cloth across her face, then held it out to inspect it. Streaks of red, orange, and yellow bled across the fabric. "Did I get it all?" she asked, turning her face this way and that to show Yori.
"Not quite," she said, extending her own cleaning rag to dab at Mira's jawline. "And…now you're good."
"Thanks," Mira called back as she left the clearing.
"If you don't at least kiss him, I'm gonna lock you two in the costume wagon until you do!" Yuki yelled after her.
Mira winced, grateful that Akisu was not nearby. She may have been a confident girl, but sometimes there was only so much she could take before she blushed.
Before she stepped out into the meadow, she took a small moment to compose herself for the second time that night. Akisu had done his fair share of flustering her two years ago; now that she was sixteen and more sure of herself, it was time to repay the favor.
He was waiting off to the side, watching the dancers with practiced disinterest. When he spotted her, he straightened up and flashed her his trademark lazy smile. A corner of Mira's lips tugged up as she took his outstretched hand.
"Been a while, hasn't it?" she said, following him to where the dancers were gathering in a line dance. They faced each other in two long strings, men down one side, women down the other. A reedy tune began to play, and the dancers started to move.
Akisu approached her, hooded eyes boring into hers with an intensity that made her knees weak. But she didn't dare look away. Instead, she fixed him with what she hoped to be a smoldering look of her own, eyebrow lifted up as if to ask is that all you can do?
They circled each other, closer than was required for the dance. Akisu noticed the fire in her eyes and chuckled, a wry smile on his face. He backed away, a newfound respect on his face.
It was Mira's turn to approach now, and she did so with a little extra sway to her hips. The skirt swished against her bare legs. Akisu's gaze ran her up and down, drawing a faint smile to her lips. "Like what you see?" she asked him quietly, stretching up to whisper in his ear as they turned.
"Someone's feeling bold," he replied.
"I'm not fourteen anymore," she said. She retreated, and for a moment she wondered if she was being a little too forward. But no one had ever looked at her the way Akisu was looking at her now, and she decided that she didn't care much about her audacity. She wanted this; what would be the harm in chasing after it?
The two lines of people met in the middle and assumed a more traditional dancing pose. Mira placed her right hand in his and set her left hand on his shoulder. Akisu's fingers came to rest on her bare waist, sending sparks skittering across her skin. Mira's heart thudded in her chest so loudly she was afraid he might hear it.
They twirled on the dance floor, feet sure and backs straight. Mira could see Sanji's training in the steps he took. "You have been training," she said, unable to keep the surprise from her voice.
"You didn't believe me?" Akisu sounded amused.
Mira ignored him. "You're better than you were back then."
Akisu grimaced at the memory. "I was terrible, wasn't I?"
"Well, at least you're good for something," she joked, patting him on the shoulder.
He fixed her with yet another piercing stare. "I'm sure there's one or two more things I can be good for." His voice was low and unmistakable in its innuendo.
Mira's cheeks flushed despite her determination to remain cool and collected. She'd merely meant his skills on the baiorin, but he seemed determined to steer the conversation in a different direction.
"Mira!" Katara's voice cut through her embarrassment.
Oh thank Agni.
Mira stepped away from Akisu, and he reluctantly released her (though his fingers lingered a little too long at her waist). "Katara," she said, hating how her voice sounded a little too relieved. "Enjoying the dancing?"
She nodded, then caught sight of her partner. After taking him in, she looked to Mira with questioning eyes.
"Sorry. Katara, this is Akisu. Akisu, this is Katara."
"Pleasure," he said smoothly, nodding his head.
"Katara, where'd you—oh." Sokka nearly ran into his sister as he joined them. Aang, Toph, and—surprisingly—Zuko were trailing behind him. "Who's this?" he asked abruptly, looking at Akisu.
"This is Akisu, an…old friend of mine. Akisu, these are my friends."
"It's a privilege to meet any acquaintance of our little spitfire," he said. Mira didn't miss the way he leaned closer to her as he spoke, and judging from the way Zuko's eyes narrowed, he didn't either.
"Anyway, we just wanted to say you were awesome," Sokka said. "Great dancing, and all that."
Mira laughed at his awkward compliment. "Thank you. Any chance you're going to dance yourself?" She gestured back to the line dance that was still continuing behind them.
"Oh, no, I don't dance," Sokka said hastily.
"He really doesn't," Katara interjected.
"Meilin will be absolutely devastated to hear that," Mira teased. She pretended to spot someone over Sokka's shoulder. "Oh, I think that's her over there…"
"What?! Where?" Sokka cried, body spasming as he ducked behind his sister.
Mira took advantage of their distraction to grab Akisu's hand and tug him away. "Sorry, but we've got a dance to finish!" she called over her shoulder.
"They aren't the people I imagined you to travel with," Akisu remarked, trailing after her.
She stopped short. "What's that supposed to mean?"
He lifted a hand up in a defensive position. "Only that you were much more belligerent when I knew you. I didn't expect you to befriend such gentle people."
"They're not as gentle as they look. And I'm not as rough."
"I'm not saying either are bad. Now, didn't we have a dance to get back to?"
"Right. Sorry."
The tempo had slowed from the last song, leaving Mira to lace her hands behind Akisu's neck. His warm hands brushed against her cool skin, and Mira's pulse jumped slightly.
They stepped in a gentle, lazy pattern. Akisu was close enough that she could feel his breath against her neck. Her fingers grazed the hair on the back of his neck.
"The hooded one," he said suddenly, "of your friends, I mean. Who is he to you?"
Mira was taken aback, but hid it well. Something like triumph laced her stomach "Not being very subtle, are we?"
"If I'm right, I don't have a lot of time to spend with you. I'd like to make the most of it, and that means knowing who my competition is."
Mira laughed uncomfortably as she tried not to read into the subtext of his words. "There's no competition. He's just a very old friend of mine."
"I don't think he likes me much."
"He doesn't like anyone."
"Except you."
"Yeah, well, I'm special."
"That you are."
An awkward silence stretched out before them as Mira struggled for words. Akisu watched her with amusement, and his smile only grew as she glared at him.
The music began to wind down, and Mira took her chance to escape. She stepped away, and he allowed his hands to slowly brush her stomach as she pulled back. "Perhaps I'll see you later," she said quickly. Before he could reply, she slipped back into the crowd, and was soon caught up in the next song.
Mira lost track of time as dance after dance passed. Her feet ached, and her body was glistening with sweat, but she didn't care. It'd been a long time since she'd felt this carefree. All that mattered to her was the music. Her worries and her obstacles slipped away—and here was the danger the gypsies posed to Mira. There was too much in her life to simply walk away from, but the music and the dancing made her want to do just that. In the back of her mind, of course, she knew she could never forget the path she was on…
…But maybe, for just one glittering night, she could.
As night cloaked the meadow in darkness, the dancing drew to a slow, halting close. A bonfire was set up in the dancing space, and those of the gypsies who were firebenders lit the wood with a dance of their own. Mira was sorely tempted to join, but her old friends didn't know she was a firebender. Revealing it to them now would raise more questions than she was comfortable answering, so she had to content herself with simply sitting back and watching the show.
Yori and Yuki sat across her in the circle, though they hadn't noticed her. Mira took the opportunity to examine them freely. She remembered the first time she'd met the twins, how they'd seen right through her spiky exterior…and said nothing. Of course, at the time she'd thought her walls were towering and impenetrable. It was only now that she could fully acknowledge how insightful and clever the twins were.
Sanji sat by them, laughing and smiling at some poor soul sitting next to her. Mira felt a surge of affection looking at her mentor. This was the first woman who'd ever cared enough about Mira to stay by her side. She hadn't known how much that meant to her until she found others willing to do the same.
This place…it holds closer ties than I first believed. Perhaps I was never as alone as I believed.
The thought compelled her to look for Akisu next, but she couldn't find his face by the bonfire. She frowned. Akisu was never one to retire from a gathering early…so where could be be?
The dancing flicker of the firelight almost obscured the shadow slipping behind one of the storage caravans. Mira scanned the crowd one more time, hoping she wouldn't find the one person she was looking for.
He wasn't there. A small smile crept across her face as she silently stood up and slid backwards into the shadows surrounding the fire. Her bare feet pressed into the cool earth as she stole her way along the edge of the forest and back to the caravan.
A dark silhouette stood between the fabric of the covered wagon and the wall of trees that edged the clearing. Mira's steps were inaudible as she walked closer.
"I'm glad you followed me." Akisu's smooth drawl sounded like honey in the humid air. "I'd've looked foolish if you hadn't."
"Well, we wouldn't want that, would we?" Mira's voice was steady, even if her heartbeat wasn't. She knew where this conversation was going, and though the thought excited her, anxiety still twisted her stomach into vicious knots.
"I'd hope not." He approached her slowly. "You'll be gone by tomorrow afternoon, am I right?"
He was close enough now that she could make out the intensity in his eyes, and her mouth dried up. It was one thing to flirt and banter in the bright light of day; it was something else entirely to do so alone in a secluded place, wrapped in darkness. She nodded in response to his question, since she didn't trust her voice to work properly.
"Then we'll have to make use of the time we have now, won't we?"
Akisu's lazy smirk helped her to find the sharp tongue she seemed to have swallowed. "Don't flatter yourself," she shot back. "I'm just bored, is all."
"Oh, really?" He was entirely too close for polite conversation now. Mira's palms began to sweat. "That's probably for the best," he continued, lifting a hand to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. "I'm feeling a little bored myself." He leaned even farther, until his lips were right next to her ear. "I wonder…" he whispered, "how can we fix that, hm?"
Mira's heart thudded painfully against her ribs; she couldn't take this anymore. She'd resolved to pay him back for two years ago, but he was just too experienced in this for her to beat. Standing here with him behind the wagon, buzzing with adrenaline and music, she found that she didn't care if she couldn't get him to blush and stammer. He liked her, he'd said so himself, so why shouldn't she take advantage of this? Tomorrow morning they'd go their separate ways, so what was the harm in allowing herself this night?
This all raced through her mind very quickly, and she made a decision. Gripping his shoulder tightly, she pushed him back—but only enough to press her lips against his.
Akisu didn't hesitate. His lips moved against hers as his hands wound around her waist. Slowly, Mira's arms snaked up around his neck and she sighed contentedly into his mouth. Why had she waited so late to experience the thrill that was kissing? Well, at least her first was with someone very, very good at it. Akisu smiled against her lips at her reaction.
"Shut up," she mumbled, barely breaking contact.
"I didn't say anything," he whispered back, his lips skimming the corner of her mouth.
"You're talking. Why are you talking?" Her voice was breathy and a bit too high-pitched for her liking. She initiated the next kiss, pressing her lips forcefully against his until he broke away with a gasp.
"Point taken," he laughed. He lowered his head to catch her mouth again, and her body stretched out until they were pressed together in a crushing embrace. The spark in her belly danced and crackled, sending a fiery heat through each limb. Her lungs burned with an entirely different ache, forcing Mira to pull back for air. She was satisfied to hear Akisu gasp for breath too.
Abruptly, he turned and pinned her against the rough wood of the wagon. His hands pressed her hips firmly as he leaned down to lay a line of open kisses down her jaw. Her breath hitched at the wave of heat his mouth sent across her skin, then came in heavy pants as his lips skimmed her pulse point. Once he reached her collarbone, he stopped to nip and suck at the skin again and again. A breathy moan escaped Mira's lips, but she found that she didn't care. This kind of touch was foreign and novel to her; savoring it was the only thing on her mind.
Gradually, Akisu began to work his way back to her lips. She kissed him with fervor, gently biting down on his lower lip and pulling it into her own mouth. Akisu pulled away slightly to snicker at her enthusiasm, and Mira found herself grinning back (though perhaps her smile was a little more wicked). She may have been new at this, but Akisu was an excellent teacher, and Mira knew very well that two could play this game.
In seconds, she'd turned them around so Akisu was the one pinned against the wagon. He let out a huff of surprise, but Mira was already setting to work. Her mouth found his neck almost immediately, and she focused on leaving a mark similar to the one she now sported. Akisu's heart thrummed wildly under his skin, and he squirmed and groaned underneath her as she worked. Ah, here was the response she'd been trying to draw from him all day. In that moment, she knew how he'd felt that first day when he'd made her blush. There was something very satisfying about drawing this kind of reaction from another person.
She pulled back to admire the bruise, but it wasn't long before Akisu's lips found hers again and she was otherwise preoccupied. "You're not the only one who can do that," she whispered once they pulled apart for air
"Point taken—again," he said shakily. Mira's heart raced to hear the thickness of his voice. She'd been the cause of it—that fact alone was enough to set her nerves on fire. "Now, I believe it's my turn." He flipped her around again, his body crushing against hers. But instead of feeling pain, she only wanted him closer. Akisu's hands drifted across her lower back, her waist, reaching higher and higher until they skimmed the side of her ribs and breasts. Mira sucked her breath in a gasp, and Akisu smiled. His hands now began to travel south, resting lightly on her hips. His fingers traced fire against her bare stomach.
There was a tugging at the waistband of her skirt as Akisu plucked at it playfully. Mira drew back with a quick inhale. "I'm not that bored," she said firmly.
Akisu pulled back enough to look her in the eye. They remained there, frozen in time as he assessed her gaze. Taking in the expression on her face, he nodded. "Fair enough," he said lightly. "But surely that doesn't mean you've been sufficiently entertained…?"
Mira smirked and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Not nearly enough."
Mira woke much later than usual the next morning, as she hadn't actually gotten to her tent until well into the night. By the time she'd returned the costume, reclaimed her own clothes, brushed out her hair and wiped the remaining paint off her body, it'd been well past midnight. Add in the amount of exertion from the day before, and she hadn't been feeling particularly inclined to wake with the sun.
When she finally did step into the main clearing, the others were already bustling around and cooking breakfast. Heads swiveled in her direction, and though Mira wasn't actually doing the true walk of shame, the stares felt eerily similar.
"You're up late," Katara said in surprise, her eyebrows raised.
Mira shrugged. "Had a late night." She settled herself onto a log by the campfire and gathered her hair up to braid.
"What's that?" Mira glanced up to find Sokka using the stick he'd been poking the campfire with to point at her shoulder. Her fingers probed the area he'd indicated. A sharp, dull ache flared along her collarbone, and Mira's face flushed a deep crimson as she recalled the events of the previous night. She'd forgotten that kisses like that tended to leave a mark (this wasn't from previous experience, mind you—Colie had more than enough stories on that subject). Oh, it was just her luck that Sokka noticed immediately. She should have thought to borrow a scarf from Yuki. Though facing Yuki about something like that would be infinitely more embarrassing than facing her friends. Now that she thought about it, this was facing the lesser of two evils.
"Did you fall or something?" Aang asked, his gray eyes bright with curiosity.
"Or something," Mira said, fidgeting with her skirt.
"What's that s'posed to mean?" Sokka asked, lowering the stick and squinting his eyes.
Oh, Agni, she should have just said she'd fell. That would've been much less painful than this was about to be. "It's nothing, just drop it," Mira snapped.
Sokka looked at her with suspicion. "You're acting funny."
"You're acting funny," Mira mumbled, too embarrassed to come up with anything else.
"Is everything alright?" Katara asked, and the concern in her voice and eyes made Mira want to laugh and cover her face with her hands at the same time.
She picked the latter. Her voice as muffled as she said, "I'm fine; would everyone just please leave me alone."
"What's going on?"
Mira actually groaned out loud. Of course Zuko would choose that moment to walk in.
"Mira's acting funny, but won't tell us why," Sokka said immediately.
Zuko cast a wary glance at her, then flushed a deep red as he caught sight of the bruise on her neck. If she hadn't been so embarrassed, she'd have laughed. As it was, the look on his face told her that there wasn't a good chance of him keeping quiet, and she didn't find it funny anymore.
"Don't you dare," she hissed, moving a hand to cover the mark.
"What? Do you know what's going on?" Sokka asked Zuko, determined to find out.
Mira shook her head frantically and shot him a murderous glare, but Zuko disregarded her. "It's a hickey," he said flatly.
"I am going to kill you!" she cried, springing to her feet.
"A—what now?" Sokka spluttered as his face turned beet red.
Mira sighed in irritation. "A hickey, lovebite, however you want to call it. Is everyone happy now?!" She pointed an accusing finger at Zuko. "And why are you blushing? You're not even the one with the hickey!"
Zuko wouldn't look her in the eye. "It's from that gypsy boy, isn't it."
Mira snorted and rolled her eyes. "Who else?"
He scowled. "I don't like him."
"Lucky for you, you're not the one kissing him."
A new, bright voice joined their conversation. "Who's kissing who?"
Oh, shit. Her friends would probably have short memories when it came to this, but if the twins found out, they wouldn't ever let her forget it. And they could get under her skin a hell of a lot more.
"Please tell me Mira got some action last night. My threat still stands if you didn't." Yuki plopped down on the log to the right of Mira and smiled wickedly at her. She crowed loudly when she saw Mira's bruise. "You did! Yori, you owe me five coppers!"
Yori sat on Mira's left and peered at her neck. She sighed and dug into her pocket, grumbling all the while. After emerging with five copper coins, she made to hand them over just as a loud explosion rocked the earth and sent them all flying.
Mira's ears rang from the blast. Her vision swam in front of her, though she had enough sense left to remain flat on the ground, away from whatever had attacked them. An anguished scream rent the air. "YORI!" Yuki made to dive for her sister, who was lying prone somewhere to the left, but Mira seized her ankle and yanked her down.
"Get out of here!" she shouted. "I've got Yori!" Keeping behind the log as much as she could, she reached out a hand to feel for the gypsy girl. Her fingers brushed skin and…oh, Agni.
Blood. So much blood.
No. Focus. No time to panic. Get her out NOW.
Without much thought for her own safety, Mira sprang into action. She darted out from behind the log and wrapped her arms under Yori's armpits, aching muscles screaming in protest as she pulled with all her might. Yori didn't stir.
Oh Agni please be all right.
She lay her down behind the log, then allowed herself to fully assess Yori's condition. It didn't look good.
The explosion had hit the log next to Yori, sending wood splinters flying through the air. One was impaled in Yori's stomach. Scarlet blood leaked out the sides and oozed across her skin.
But now wasn't the time to think on that. Now was the time to clench her jaw and get the hell out of here. She looked around and spotted Zuko squatting on the other side of the campfire, eyes narrowed as he stared at something behind her.
"The fuck is going on?!" She had to yell to be heard.
"Nothing good," he said grimly, and he nodded at whatever was behind her. Mira risked a glance over top of the log. What she saw had her uttering words no sixteen-year-old should have known.
A hulking giant of a man stood near the edge of the clearing, looking impassively over what must have been his work. His body was corded with rippling muscle, but that wasn't the part of him that terrified Mira. It was something much smaller that told her just how screwed they really were.
A sideways eye with three radiating lines was tattooed on his forehead. As Mira watched, his face screwed up as he squinted her way, and she was barely able to make out a crackling sound before the ground behind Zuko exploded.
He dove forward, pressing against her as they tried to hide behind the log. "It looks like him, don't you think?"
"But he's just a legend!"
"Apparently he's not," Zuko snapped back. "But we can talk about that later. Right now we need to move!"
"Then you need to take Yori," Mira ordered, shuffling around him. "My body's too sore to carry her across the clearing. If you grab her, I can cover you." She reached forward into the campfire and plucked out a couple of still-burning coals. The heat was uncomfortable, enough to make Mira wince and bite her lip.
He nodded. After slipping a hand underneath Yori's back and knees, he crouched on the ground, every muscle in his body coiled tightly.
"You ready?" Mira asked, now facing the other way.
"Whenever you are."
"Then go!"
Zuko exploded into motion as Mira popped up from behind the log and hurled the coals at their attacker. He was forced to dodge the firebombs (which Mira had souped up with her own firebending), giving Zuko time to retreat. Mira ran behind him, head turned to watch the assassin. As soon as he regained sight of them, she spun, propelling a huge wash of fire his way. He disappeared behind a tree, and before he could step out again, Zuko and Mira were within the cover of the forest.
Zuko set Yori down gently on the grass. Yuki nearly barreled him over in her haste to reach her sister's side. "Agni, oh please Agni no, Yori, wake up, wake up please…" Tears streamed down her face as she sobbed, hands fluttering over her body in unsure movements.
"What happened?" Sanji asked, appearing behind Yuki. She kneeled over Yori, assessing her condition, but addressing Mira at the same time.
"We were just sitting at the farthest campsite, and there was an explosion. One attacker in the woods, opposite side of the clearing."
"Why's he here?" Sanji demanded, voice rock hard.
Mira hadn't had time to ask herself that question. Her mouth went dry as she landed on a likely answer. She leaned to Zuko. "He's after you," she told him. "Azula doesn't know Aang's alive, but she'd send someone after you. I'm not sure, but he might've been aiming for you."
Zuko went white. "We need to get out of here."
"Care to share?" Sanji said sharply. She gestured to someone nearby, but didn't look away from Mira and Zuko.
"He's after us," Mira said. "He'll leave you alone once we get out of here."
For a moment, Sanji's face softened, and she looked at Mira with concern. "Seven hells, girl, what have you gotten yourself into?" she whispered.
"Nothing I don't know the consequences of," she replied just as quietly. "Take care of your own; I can handle myself."
Sanji didn't look happy, but she nodded. "Go then. We'll cover you."
"Will she be okay?" Mira asked, looking at Yori.
"I don't know," Sanji said bluntly. "I'm not a healer."
Her words sparked an idea. A really terrible, risky idea. Mira glanced at Zuko, who could read her intentions plainly. "You'd have to ask her," he said. "It's her life you'd be risking."
Mira chewed on the inside of her cheek, then made a decision. She craned her neck, scanning the crowd for tan skin and dark hair. "Kat!" she called, cupping her hands around her mouth to amplify her voice. "I need you!" She hoped the waterbender was over here; she'd lost track of everyone in the commotion.
A ripple of movement snaked her way, until the blue-eyed girl stood by her side. "What? What is it?" She sounded breathless.
"Where are the others?"
"Aang's getting Appa. Sokka and Toph are with him. Why'd you call me?"
Mira gestured to Yori, who was growing pale. "I know it's a lot to ask of you, but do you think you could…? We'll back you."
Katara didn't even hesitate. "Of course." She sank to her knees, hands steady as she carefully probed the skin around Yori's stomach.
Mira addressed the confused look on Sanji's face. "You may not have a healer nearby, but I do." She took a deep breath, then asked the fatal question: "Do you have any water?"
To her credit, Sanji's reaction was low-key. Aside from the widening of her eyes and her mouth falling open slightly, she remained relatively nonplussed. Crooking her finger to someone behind her, she whispered something in his ear and sent him scurrying off.
Yuki looked up, her eyes puffy and wild. "Can you do it?" she asked Katara, her voice cracking in desperation. "Can you save her?"
Katara met her gaze evenly. "I think so. I can repair most of the damage, at least. It'll be a while until she's fully recovered, but I believe I can save her life."
"Then I don't care how she does it," Yuki said firmly, her expression just daring Sanji to disagree. "She saves my sister."
"I wasn't going to deny her," Sanji said, a corner of her lip curling up. She sobered as she focused on Katara. "Do what you can." A cloth water bottle was passed to her.
Mira slid closer to Yori and tugged Zuko along with her. "Everyone budge up a little," she said quietly. "I trust you, but I don't want anyone else to see this. For Kat's sake."
They obeyed, and soon Katara was shielded by their bodies. A muted glow emanated from her hands as she began to work. A thick silence descended on them as they watched her with hollow eyes.
A few minutes later, she pulled back and cradled the water in the palm of one hand. The other drifted towards the large splinter sticking out of Yori's stomach, fingers flexing. "Someone needs to hold her down," Katara warned. "This'll really hurt her."
"Need someone to pull the wood out?" Sanji asked.
Katara shook her head. "It's easier if I do it myself. Just make sure she doesn't move."
Yuki placed her hands on her sister's shoulders. Tears still dripped down her face, but there was a fierce stoicism there as well. Mira recognized the expression well; she'd seen it in the mirror plenty of times.
"Get ready," Katara said. "And…now!" She yanked the splinter up and immediately covered the hole left behind with her water. Yori, still unconscious, screamed and bucked, but Yuki held her down tightly. Mira threw herself across her knees to keep her still, only relaxing once Yori had slipped back under.
The hand holding the piece of wood hovered in the air as Katara lost herself in her work. Mira gently took the splinter from her hand and laid it on the ground. Katara nodded vaguely as she brought her second hand in to work, both moving rhythmically in a tune only she could hear.
Long, agonizing minutes ticked by. Mira watched woodenly, her mind racing from unpleasant thought to unpleasant thought. Despite the tiny little voice that tried valiantly to convince her that this wasn't her fault, that she couldn't have known this would happen, the rest of her was all too happy to shoulder the blame.
I should have known Azula wouldn't let Zuko go so easily.
I've become too lax; I should never had let my guard down.
If only I hadn't listened to my damned hormones so much.
We're fighting a war; I've no right to be so carefree.
I'm slipping.
Each thought like a toxic vine, wrapping around her chest and making the next breath harder than the one before it. A hot, poison guilt slid down her throat as she swallowed. She'd believed herself to be on the road to redemption, but this attack made her wonder if the path she was on led to a different destination altogether.
Her self-deprecating train of thought was derailed as Yori let out a breathy moan and began to stir. Katara sat back on her heels, wiping her hands and disposing of the used water. The hole in Yori's stomach had been pinched together in a hasty patch. Aside from the fresh pink scar tissue radiating from the edges, the skin looked as though it'd never been broken.
"There's still some internal damage," Katara said, "but I've fixed the worst. Your healers should be able to take care of her from here."
She'd barely finished when Yuki threw her arms around her neck and squeezed her tight. "Thank you," she said, her voice throaty from crying. "Oh Agni and Kai, thank you."
"Of course," Katara said, like it hadn't even been a question that she'd help.
"You should go," Sanji said, standing up. "Before he breaks through our firebenders. We'll cover you, but make sure you lead him away." Her gaze was stern, and Mira was once again reminded that Sanji was putting her people at risk in order to help them.
"Agni, Sanji, I'm sorry. I never meant for this to happen."
"No one ever does," she said briskly, but there was a spark of kindness in her eyes. "Now go."
Katara and Zuko began to shuffle off, but Yuki caught hold of Mira's arm and held her back. "You catch him," she ordered Mira. "You catch the bastard that did this to my sister, and you end him. Promise me."
Mira could only nod in reply. Whatever Yuki's probing gaze found must have satisfied her, because she let her go and stepped away.
Mira caught up to Katara and Zuko, following the younger girl's lead to where Aang was waiting with Appa and the others. Sokka opened his mouth to ask a question, but the look on his sister's face warded him off. After a quick head count, Aang sent Appa into the sky, in full view of the assassin lurking on the other side of the clearing.
"Sit up at the end," Mira told Zuko, nudging him gently. "Make sure he can see you."
Zuko complied, turning to face the point of attack and letting the hood drift back just enough to confirm to their attacker his identity.
It didn't take long for a response. The explosions rocking the clearing below stopped suddenly, and Mira could catch a glimpse of red as a figure stepped out from behind a tree to stare up at them.
Mira held her breath. This was the moment that would make or break her. Either the assassin would cease his attacks and pursue them, or he'd stay and level the gypsy caravan. If he picked the latter, she wasn't sure she'd be able to keep herself aboard Appa.
Thankfully, she didn't have to make that decision. The assassin turned his back to the gypsy camp, and disappeared between the trees.
Everyone in the saddle let out a shaky breath. "Alright, who was that?!" Sokka exploded.
Mira and Zuko exchanged a glance. "He's an urban legend in the Fire Nation; no one's really sure if he exists or not. Though I suppose we can confirm that. Anyway, he's the best assassin in Caldera—maybe even the world. He's mastered some kind of hands-free, mental firebending, which makes him extremely dangerous. And it looks like he's after Zuko."
"Zuko? Why him?"
"As far as Aang is concerned, Azula thinks he's dead. But she knows the rest of you are alive, and that Zuko's with you. She probably believes that Zuko's leading a rebel group to challenge Ozai. So it makes sense she'd want him out of the way, and quietly."
"That's…really not good." Katara looked pale.
"I still think we coulda taken him," Toph said.
"And risked more innocent lives?" Mira snapped. "Running away was the best thing we could have done."
Toph said nothing, but the grudging look on her face showed that she'd been convinced.
"At least he can't follow us as easily when we're on Appa," Aang said. A stricken look crossed his face. "Unless he can fly?"
Mira managed a small smile. "No, we're safe from that. As long as we keep our eyes and ears open, we should be fine." And as she said the words, they really sank in, and she began to believe them. The tight coil that had been wrapped around her stomach since the attack slowly began to come undone. Her muscles trembled with exhaustion as she relaxed.
"Tui and La, Mira, you're bleeding!" Katara's exclamation startled Mira, causing her to lock up again.
"I am?" she asked dazedly. "Where?" As she asked the question, she became aware of a hot, sticky liquid on her left arm, and she looked down to see blood trickling from a gash across her forearm. "When did that get there?" she asked, sounding puzzled. She hadn't felt a thing until Katara had mentioned it.
Katara was on her in an instant, flicking open her water bottle and sending a thin wash of water to cover the area. The sensation of cool silk knitting flesh together settled upon her skin and sent a shiver down the back of her neck. Minutes that felt like hours later, Katara pulled back. "That should do it," she said. "Unless you've got more injuries I don't know about?"
"Hey, I didn't know about that one," Mira said defensively. "But I don't think so. Check Zuko out, though, will you?"
Katara gave him a quick-once over, stopping to heal a shallow cut on his forehead. Zuko seemed baffled by her ministrations, but allowed her to work anyway. After both were given a clean bill of health, Katara left them sitting near the back of the saddle.
Mira leaned back and truly relaxed, forcing each muscle to uncoil bit by bit. Her mind refused to do the same, remaining active as she replayed the past day's events over and over, looking for any clues she might have missed. Had he been there in the shadows as Mira had stumbled back to her tent, intoxicated by dancing and music and kisses? Had her one carefree day almost cost her the life of a friend?
"It wasn't your fault." Zuko's rough voice came close by her ear. He was quiet, though they were sequestered away from everyone else.
"You don't know that," she replied, too tired to bury her guilt.
"I do," he said. "If you're going to blame yourself, then why not the rest of us? We were in the same situation as you."
Mira chuckled darkly. "Not quite."
Zuko was silent for a long moment. "I won't lie, I'm not that happy about that part. But your actions didn't bring the assassin there. I did. Blame me."
Mira whipped around, fixing him with a glare. "Don't you dare say that. You didn't know what Azula would do."
Zuko's eyes bored into her own. "Neither did you."
Mira's mouth fell open and she gaped at him. "That's—not…you play dirty."
Zuko shrugged. "Does the trick."
Mira's nostrils flared as she huffed in irritation, but he had a valid point. If she couldn't blame him, then why blame herself? Still, it was one thing to think it, and another to believe it. But she did feel better, temporarily.
Since she didn't want to talk about the attack anymore, she changed the subject. "I never asked, what did you think of the camp? Never seen that side of the Fire Nation."
Zuko stilled. "I spoke with Sanji."
"Really? What'd she say?"
He regarded her critically. "I think I understand you better now."
"…Well, that's not comforting."
Zuko's lips twitched. "It's nothing bad. Just something for me to think about."
Mira considered keeping quiet and leaving him to his thoughts, but she'd been doing that with him an awful lot lately. "Have your thoughts changed? About you decision, I mean?"
"I…think so?" He didn't sound so sure of himself. "Nothing is the way I thought it was, and that makes me question what I grew up believing. How did you do it?"
The question threw Mira for a loop, as it'd never been asked of her before. "Well, I think partly it was because I wanted to get back at my father. Flouting tradition was one of the ways I did that. But part of it was Sanji, and Temal, and Colie, and Guang. I've met a lot of people with a lot of different views. And I've learned to keep an open mind. But the most important thing I think you should know is this: just because adults have been around longer, doesn't mean that they know best. Just…take what they say with a grain of salt. It's okay to think you're right and they're wrong, sometimes."
Mira wasn't sure if it was the best piece of advice she could give him, but judging from the look on his face, it was definitely something for him to chew on. She left him to his thoughts then, and tried not to stew in her own too much.
After they'd been flying for several hours, Aang crawled up to lean on the saddle and look at the others. He chewed on his lip, looking an odd combination of thoughtful, confused, and curious. Finally, he asked, "What's a hickey?"
The question was so unexpected, Mira nearly choked on her own spit. The older ones along the group looked at each other in horror.
"…Well, I'm not telling him."
A/N: I wrote this chapter while listening to Florence + the Machine's "Howl" and "Drumming Song" on repeat. Both capture the feeling of the gypsy dancing I'm imagining.
Fun fact: the twins were completely unplanned. I swear, I don't know what happened. Although I think I could say that for this entire chapter.
Please let me know what you thought! It only takes a few moments, and it really does help me out.
Next chapter: "The Thief and the Fire Spirit."