A/N: For Tomadashi Week Day 4: "Elements"

Scenario: ATLA/LOK-verse AU

Tadashi never sees the motorcycle coming.

One moment, he's stepping onto the street while admiring Republic City's blue sky, his fingers curled around a paper bag of warm steamed buns; the next moment, the wind is knocked out of him and he careens sideways, landing in a messy heap on the asphalt.

Someone curses. Tadashi pushes himself up slowly, trying to get his bearings. His first instinct is to check the food—safe—before he notices the sound of footsteps approaching.

"Hey."

He looks up to find a girl standing over him, motorcycle helmet tucked under one arm.

"You okay?" she asks, expression a mixture of guilt and annoyance, and as her gaze darts back to her bike, Tadashi gets the sense that she's just as worried about her motorcycle's wellbeing as she is about him. Maybe more. (He'll give her the benefit of the doubt.)

"Yeah," he reassures, smiling brightly.

The girl doesn't move. Instead, she watches him expectantly; Tadashi realizes he hasn't made a move to get up, still too dazed from the impact.

Sighing, the girl holds out a hand. After some deliberation, Tadashi takes it, jerked forward by the force of the girl's grip as she pulls him to his feet.

"Uh," he says, at a loss. "You're pretty strong, huh?"

The girl raises an eyebrow, her gaze scanning him for any cuts or bruises. "So are you, it seems. Took that hit like a trooper."

"Yeah?" Tadashi grins at the compliment. (It is a compliment—right?)

The corner of the girl's mouth twitches. There's something familiar about her—the jagged ends of her hair, the set of her chin—but Tadashi can't place it.

"Try not to do it again, though," she cautions, sliding her helmet back on and walking over to the motorcycle. The dust she kicks up as she speeds away makes his eyes water, but Tadashi watches her go anyways.

o.O.o

He takes Hiro to that night's probending match, because Hiro will find a way to sneak out to one anyways, so it's better if Tadashi's at least around to accompany him. His younger brother lights up like a flame in the arena, and not for the first time, Tadashi wonders what things would be like if their parents were still around. He and Aunt Cass try their best, but they're still nonbenders, able to do little more than watch as Hiro figures out how to manage the fire flowing through his veins.

Beside him, Hiro opens and closes his hands, creating a flame and then snuffing it out as he waits for the action to start. His knee bounces in excitement as he asks, "Who do you think is going to win, Tadashi?"

"No idea," Tadashi says, holding out the bag of popcorn. Hiro grabs a handful and shoves it into his mouth before toasting another one to a crisp with his fingers.

"I think it's going to be the Tigerdillos," Hiro says. Tadashi figures his brother's guess is as good as any—he practically devours probending stats, and Tadashi's pretty sure Hiro has picked up some pocket money from secretly placing bets, but that's a conversation for another time. "Their firebender is sick."

"Mhmm," Tadashi says as the lights die down over the audience and the spotlights flare over the arena. An extended cheer goes up as the players come into view, waving from their platform.

Tadashi scrutinizes the Tigerdillos, interest piqued thanks to Hiro's assessment. From where they're seated, he can't make out many details beyond stature, build, and belt color. The Tigerdillo's earthbender is muscular, his uniform stretched broadly across his chest; the waterbender is willowy, hair tied up in a messy bun that peeks over the edge of her helmet. She and the earthbender tower over their third member, the firebender Hiro spoke so highly of. He or she—Tadashi can't tell, from this distance—remains relatively stoic, especially compared to the waterbender, who waves and flashes peace signs and blows kisses to a legion of adoring fans.

The bell dings. The match starts. Rock disks meet water meets fire, colliding into puffs of steam. Tadashi watches, transfixed, as the Tigerdillos advance.

"Look, Tadashi, that's what I'm talking about!" says Hiro, grabbing his sleeve and pointing. Tadashi blinks, watching as the Tigerdillos' firebender rolls to her feet after throwing herself sideways to avoid a blast of water. He finds he can't look away. She's a blur of motion, all sharp, rapid punches and darting maneuvers, and Tadashi can tell from the way she plays that she's the kind of person to throw herself fully into whatever task is at hand.

The Tigerdillos have a brief scare in round two but blaze to victory in round three. Hiro surges to his feet, triumphant: "What'd I tell you, huh, 'Dashi?"

Down on the platform, the winning team takes their helmets off, faces flushed with exertion and pride.

And as a shock of black hair—spiky ends, purple streak—emerges from under the firebender's helmet, as she tucks it under her arm, cradling it the same way she cradled her motorcycle helmet, Tadashi thinks: Oh.

Oh.

o.O.o

Hiro wants an autograph.

But the kid is also darned shy when he wants to be, so Tadashi finds himself pushed into the line instead.

He knows her name now. He kind of feels stupid that he'd ever forgot it, because Hiro has a poster of the Tigerdillos in their room. GoGo Tomago, of the raised eyebrow and piercing look—Spirits, Tadashi has seen her face before falling asleep—although when you phrase it that way, it sounds kind of creepy.

"Next."

Tadashi stumbles to the front of the line and everything he'd been planning to say ("Hey, my brother's a big fan, and wow, fancy seeing you here") flies out the window. He winds up awkwardly thrusting a pen and poster in GoGo's face.

She's sandwiched between her two teammates, laughing at something Honey Lemon has whispered. The self-contained aura she had earlier in the day has disappeared, replaced by the glow of camaraderie and confidence, but something about that makes her seem less approachable to Tadashi, like she's cruising on some higher plane of existence.

But then she looks at him, does a double-take, and it's like getting the wind knocked out of him all over again.

"Hey," she says, smiling a little in recognition.

"Hey," Tadashi replies.

He honestly doesn't know what he was expecting. Maybe something along the lines of, "It must be fate," though, looking back, that sounds all sorts of cheesy that Tadashi is pretty sure GoGo Tomago would never spout.

What GoGo Tomago does say? "You're the guy I hit with my bike."

"Yeah…" Tadashi winces. Honey Lemon giggles.

"So you're a probending fan, huh?" says GoGo, pulling the poster toward her and uncapping the marker. She holds it, poised. "What's your name?"

"I'm not," Tadashi says, then realizes how bad that sounds and adds, hurriedly, "I mean, I am. A fan. But not as big a fan as my brother, who the poster is for. He's Hiro. And I'm…I'm Tadashi," he finishes lamely, watching as she signs her name. Her handwriting is just like her, he thinks, the end of the "o" swooping out into oblivion, like it has places to go.

"Hi, Tadashi," chirps Honey Lemon, reaching over to scrawl her name on the corner of the poster as well. "Where's your brother?"

"Over there." Tadashi points to where Hiro is watching anxiously from the sidelines; when Honey Lemon waves, he flushes bright red and jerks his attention determinedly toward the water and away from the autograph table.

"He a firebender?" asks GoGo, spinning the pen in her hands as she looks up at him.

"Um, yeah. Watching you has made a big impact on his life. I mean, not as big as the impact you made on me with your bike, but—" he cuts himself off when he sees Honey Lemon elbow GoGo.

"I'm sorry, did you just make a joke about me hitting you?"

"Um…" The tips of Tadashi's ears burn. Why oh why does he say these things?

"Don't worry, I thought it was cute," winks Honey Lemon, waving another person over.

"I—I wasn't…" hitting on you, Tadashi wants to finish, but there's another inadvertent joke in there somewhere and he isn't sure he wants to sink any further.

"Relax," smirks GoGo. "I don't bite."

"Yeah, you just punch stuff. With fire."

"I wouldn't punch you, though. I think I've dealt you enough pain for the day," teases GoGo.

"Yeah." Tadashi shifts his weight from one foot to the next, catches Hiro widening his eyes at him from afar. "Um, I should go. Thanks for your time." He takes the poster back and tries to walk away at a leisurely pace, resisting the urge to glance over his shoulder and see if GoGo's eyes are even following his departure.

When he finally reaches his brother, Hiro bumps his elbow. "Finally. What took you so long?"

"Nothing," says Tadashi, shoving his hands in his pocket as they start to walk back toward the city.

"'Nothing,' huh?" Hiro says in his know-it-all voice. "Then how do you explain this?" he turns around and waves the poster in Tadashi's face.

Tadashi pulls it back to study it more clearly and sees, written along the bottom:

Hiro—keep feeding those flames

Tadashi—maybe we'll run into each other again