A/N: And she feels like home. If the shoe fits, walk in it, everywhere you go. Love and be loved. Read… and review!

Sounds of Tortured Souls

[Winter/Spring 125 AG]

In retrospect, she wouldn't be in this situation if she had just done her laundry.

When it comes to big things, larger tasks, such as going to work, or meeting up with members of the Southside crew, or helping Siq, Akola has no issue. She always takes the initiative and never delays. On the other hand, when it's mundane tasks that don't require much energy or effort, she often procrastinates. She finds them tiresome and ill fitting of her time or attention. So she delays things like doing her laundry and in turn that makes her run late to her rendezvous with Jin.

She rushes right along the quiet streets of Ba Sing Se lower ring, a rumbling noise growing closer. Her hurried steps whip around corners and between people walking home in the early twilight. It's winter so the sun is setting earlier and the chilling is biting more. Azula wears the red scarf she so loves, knitted by the hands of the most powerful being on earth, who was the first one to ever successfully hunt her down. Her hair is growing a little too long, reaching once again towards her shoulders and will need to be cut soon. She once thought the winters in Ba Sing Se were nothing compared to some of the other places she lived, and while that may still be true, she has now lived here for over two years and as such her body has adjusted to the temperature.

She hates the winters and the cold, but not as much as she hates having her path interrupted. She rounds a corner in a rush and comes face to face with the 'rumbling noise' in the flesh. A large crowd of gatherers, all blocking her shortest route to their meeting point. There must be dozens of people, maybe even a hundred or more. They are almost entirely middle aged and younger men. They shout obscenities and other such a raucous noise towards some figure who is speaking at the front.

Azula has a choice. Go back the way she came and circle around, costing her precious time, or push her way through them to get where she needs to be. It's not much of a choice. She gets going where she's going.

Azula pushes through the men of varying sizes and shapes. Some are burly and some are scrawny, but they all smell terrible. They're sweaty and completely unaware of a woman pushing past them until she's in their chest and moving them backwards. Even then some of them don't realize what's happening, they just step backwards while listening to the speaker. Azula is about halfway through the group when the words finally reach her.

"This world is broken - but it doesn't have to be."

She continues to push but now she too turns to look at the man and hear what they are all saying.

"Our journey is not complete, your journey is not complete. We have to keep moving forward, together. For those with us now. For those we had to leave behind. We have come this far and we must keep going."

The man at the front has long, slick black hair and tan skin. At night, reflecting off the open flames that light up the stage he is on, she sees his amber eyes. He is lean in muscle and above average in height. His robes are lilac and deep navy. He looks like he'd be a good fighter if he wasn't doing such a captivating job orating. Azula stops in her efforts to listen. For the briefest moment she shares eye contact with him.

"Let us never forget that us benders are the ones who forged this world into what it is – and it is through us that the world will continue to be remade."

Raucous applause all around her.

'Ah! Of course. Bender Supremacist.'

Azula has no such time for their squabbles. She continues working through the crowd as they cheer and chant. She breaks through finally on the other side and walks freely towards her destination.

Azula hasn't given much time or attention to the politics of the Equalist and the Bender Supremacist. She knows Ty Lee feels strongly, as well as many others do. It's a hot-button topic and has been so for years. But she doesn't care for it. She sees value in both sides of the argument, and that sort of ambivalence has only drawn the ire from both sides. So instead of engaging in unpleasantries, she simply avoids the topic or remains quiet when it gets brought up in conversation.

At the very least, she rations, if either side ever became too much of a problem, her brother and the Avatar would surely step in. If they could make time to try and shut down the Dragon Empress, surely they would make every effort to crush any pseudo-rebellions from uprising on either side.

'Those two are all the protection people need from political nonsense. I need to stay focused on my own problems and the challenges we face in the Southside.'

Azula pushes the thoughts away like she did the angry men in the crowd. She stalks through the streets on her way to meeting up with Jin.

"No, no, please, a little slower!" Jin teases her as Akola approaches, steps hurried. "You shouldn't feel the need to rush on my behalf. Not like I've been waiting forever."

"You're still alive? I was hoping you'd die of old age before I got here." Akola cracks back at her.

Jin smirks. "See that doesn't work as well because you're older than me."

"Yeah, but no one calls me 'Mama,' so that makes you older by default."

"Or maybe it just makes you wish you were a mother fucker?"

"Only On Ji gets to call you 'Mommy.'"

They share a laugh and then a hug. Jin shrugs one shoulder in a direction, "C'mon, the place is just around the corner."

Akola falls into lockstep with Mama and they head to their location. It really is incredible to Akola how far the two have come over the years. When Akola first arrived, Jin was an enigma. An endlessly complex puzzle, impossible to decipher, and determined to remain a proverbial question mark. The leader of the Southside was cold and cool and a different kind of leader from how Akola had been once upon a time.

But as the days stretched into months and the months stretched into these years, as Akola proved herself an invaluable asset to the Southside, loyal and good, and as Akola and On Ji became closer friends, the walls around Jin came tumbling down. Now? Outside of Ty Lee, Jin may very well be her best friend. They're practically inseparable. They round the corner and two cloaked figured bump into them, separating the women.

"Hey!" Akola reprimands the smaller pair. "Watch where you're go-"

"Akola!"

"Mama!"

Jin smiles. "Bing and Beng!"

"You little shits." Akola growls.

"Sorry Akola!"

"We're in a rush."

"We wouldn't be if Akola here had been on time."

"Shut it, Mama!"

"Oh cool! We're in a hurry too."

"Where are two running off to this late?"

"There's a bender supremacist rally."

"So we're going to the counter protest."

"Hoping to score some cactus juice along the way?" Akola chides them.

"Oh no, we drank our fair share just before this."

"We'll get some more afterwards too!"

The identical twins, in their matching charcoal capes, make their escape. If there was anything Akola could count on them for, it was their activism in the community, and their active pursuit of getting blasted. They had a very healthy fear of Akola that she had instilled in them since day one, and her general disdain for their presence was not one they missed. Yet despite this, Akola has a soft spot for them, something they know almost innately, while still wary to never wear out their welcome.

"C'mon," Jin says, rousing Akola from her thoughts. "This is the place."

Akola reads the sign above the door briefly and is surprised.

"A meeting house?"

"Technically, yes." Jin replies as they enter the warm indoors.

They walk into a low lit, very spacious room, adorned with a large, square, green rug, with yellow lining in the traditional Earth Kingdom shades. There is an elevated platform at the front of the room, where folding screens are lined up, with depictions of landscapes around Ba Sing Se. There are yellow mats towards the front, where people kneel and focus on the stage. There's a table by the door, with a tan woman about Akola's age and two small children playing. Up at the front of the room, On Ji is on the stage talking slowly but pointedly.

"Welcome to On Ji's poetry club."

"Poetry?" Akola asks, a twinkle in her eye and a smile dawning on her lips.

"Yeah. You strike me as the type who'd enjoy this."

She lets out a half sigh, half laugh.

"Surround myself with the sounds of tortured souls? Sign me up."

Jin steps into the room and Azula follows. She extends a hand towards the table in the back.

"First timers have to observe, no interaction, no speaking, and no sitting with the others."

"That's bizarre?"

"Yeah, it's a holdover policy. The previous lady who used to run the club and mentored On Ji made the suggestion. I think some water tribe kid crashed the club once, or something like that. Anyway, she made the suggestion, old habits die hard, On Ji kept it. So you'll have to stay back here today."

The woman at the table looks up as the two small boys quietly play around her. She has tan skin, her black hair, and emerald green eyes. She looks a little worse for wear, but nonetheless there is an aura about her that screams poise.

Jin explains, "This is our friend and sometimes associate, Yin of the Lower Ring."

"Greetings Yin." Akola gives a slight bow of the head.

Yin waves absentmindedly behind her and adds, "And those are my two boys."

Akola eyes them up but doesn't go to introduce herself. Something tells her they wouldn't care even if she did. She eyeballs it and guesses that they're both well under ten years old.

"I'll leave you two to it." Jin says as she departs, headed to the front.

"May I have this seat?" Akola asks her.

"You may." Yin replies and Akola pulls it back.

"Are you also not permitted to join them or recite poetry?"

"Mine is more self-inflicted, rather than mandated."

"I see, so this isn't your first time here?"

"Spirits no."

Akola removes her scarf, and no sooner than putting it down is it grabbed off the table by a pair of tiny hands.

"Boys!"

"It's fine." She tells the woman. She leans down towards the adolescents who had stopped. She whispers to them in a tone containing all of the sweetness in the world and eyes shooting fireballs, "But if you rip it, I'll rip you in half."

Their faces white as porcelain masks, the boys slowly back away with the scarf, careful with it but nonetheless leaving with their treasure.

"Aye, I wouldn't have this problem if their father was here. Probably off galavanting with his girlfriend."

"Eh?" Akola chirps. "You say that so brazenly? Or perhaps you're not their mother?"

"Oh, please, don't be confused. I am, and he is. No, he may not be the most faithful, but he's mine."

"If he's not faithful, then he's not yours. I suggest you put him in the ground."

"Kill the father of my children?" She laughs.

"What father? I see none here."

"Fair. Perhaps I should leave him.

"Perhaps? Just perhaps?"

"I love him. If I'm honest, leaving isn't in my blood. And besides, divorce is for rich people."

Akola doesn't say anything, conceding that this is a correct summation, and not wanting to continue wading into this woman's personal life. She feels content to just focus on the poetry being read and revel in the tortured souls. Apparently, however, the woman is not done talking with Akola.

"Now that I've shared far too much about my personal life with you, as Jin said my name is Yin. My boy's are San, he's the older one who wrapped your scarf around his head, and Chow is the younger one."

"They look young. What are they? 7 and 5?"

"Close. Very close. San is 6, Chow is 4."

"Young. Full of life and energy. It's wonderful, and terrible; youth is truly wasted on the young."

"Do you have any of your own?"

"Ah, no. My wife would love to, but-"

"Oh a gender betrayer like Jin and On Ji?"

"Indeed. And damn proud no less."

"We're getting so personal, and yet you haven't even introduced yourself."

"Ah well, I am Akola, of Ember Island. Although anymore it feels more like I'm from the Lower Ring. It's nice to make your acquaintance."

Akola looks away, again hoping the conversation is over, so she can listen to the poems. Yin forces a smile and leans in. She carefully reaches a hand out and touches the top of Akola's left hand sitting on the table, briefly grazing over the matrimony band. Akola jerks her hand back and turns to look back. Yin squints a bit and looks right into her amber eyes. Akola is alarmed by this sudden act and analytical stare down.

"That's not your name, is it?"

Akola forces a fake laugh. It's been so long since she's met anyone new, she forgets about the ubiquitous reply she always gets. Kindly she replies, "Oh, I know. Everyone tells me it's a man's name, but I assure you-"

"No, that's not it. You may be able to get away with that with others, but I know better."

'Agni Above please help me. Does she also have Seismic Sense?'

"I'm afraid I don't-"

"Akola of Ember Island was an Avatar who lived and died just a shade over a thousand years ago. You're using a spirit to hide your identity."

Akola now squints her own eyes.

Yin carries on, "The only question worth knowing is why?"

Akola calculates her options. Moves and countermoves. The words of her old, bald enemy ring in her head about being useless in the endgame. She weighs her options. Bizarrely, she feels at ease around this woman. She trusts her, almost innately.

"You're right. My name isn't Akola, and I'm not from Ember Island."

"I know you aren't. So let's begin again. I'm Yin of the Lower Ring Ba Sing Se. Who are you?"

"I'm Asuna of Lanxi." Asuna assures her.

"Ha!" Yin chuckles. "Called out on 'Akola' so you go with the Avatar's second name. Clever girl! But Lanxi? Now that is original. Now we're getting somewhere."

"You know an awful lot about a dead Avatar?"

"I like to think my knowledge is second to none, but you may make me a liar yet."

"Perhaps we can learn from each other. I've spent years in search of Avatar Asuna. What can you share with me?"

Yin shrugs. "I've forgotten more than I know, I'm afraid."

Asuna sighs. "Our faulty memories commit timeless crimes with countless, forgotten victims."

"But right now I'm more interested in you. Do the others know your name isn't Akola?"

"I'm sure they have their doubts, in fact I know they did at first. But they accept me for who I am now."

"And who are you, exactly?"

"I'm a woman just trying to get by."

"There's more than that though. Akola, Asuna. Ember Island, Lanxi. You're hiding yourself from the world."

Asuna sighs. She tells her, "I can't say much. Suffice it to say that I have a violent background, but I've left that all behind me now."

"Hmm? An ex you're trying to escape?"

"That's part of it. At first it was, yes. She betrayed me and tried to kill me." Asuna examines the scar in her right palm, a finger tracing the line where the blade with the red handle once pierced it.

"Are you aware that there are other ways to handle this sort of situation, besides lying about your name and pretending to be a dead Avatar?"

"How do you mean, Yin?" Asuna asks, true curiosity in her voice.

Yin leans in, a voice of reverence about her. "There is a spirit that exists in the West. As rumors go, there is one who can change your face. Even erase your memories of your past life. Give you a real fresh start."

Azula met the Mother of Faces many moons ago. She had not forgotten. But she harbors her own feelings on the matter.

"I have heard such stories."

"Oh?"

"I even know a woman who used such power."

"And?"

"It is the route of a coward."

"Well!"

"I would never stoop so low as to cheat life. I shoulder this burden because of my own actions, so I deserve to live with it."

She holds out her open palm, the scar visible now to Yin.

"Admirable, but not a choice many would make."

"I am not many. I am one."

"Akola of Ember Island. Asuna of Lanxi."

"Indeed." She nods.

Yin purses her lips. "I'm surprised you know someone who saw the spirit. Myths and legends whisper only one person alive who has come back from it."

"They do? Perhaps it's the same person?" Akola probes.

"Oh, I doubt that. Unless you were somehow familiar with the Fire Lord's mother?"

"Hmm." Akola hums. "It appears then that there are two someone's who have come back from the spirit."

"I see." Yin replies, but does not believe.

Akola, sensing the doubt and desperate to change the subject, pivots back to earlier talking points.

"If you believe yourself second to none about Avatar Akola, perhaps you can help me?"

"Perhaps?"

"Huwan. Various scrolls and texts refer to Huwan as a place of residence for Akola. Do you know anything about it?"

Yin puts her questions and wonder to the side for now. She takes a deep breath in and tries to answer.

"Yes, well. After the Avatar completed mastering all four elements, it is customary for them to travel the world, usually with a partner of some such."

"Yes, I know this."

"Well, Huwan is where Akola and her wife Mareen settled after their travels."

"Where is it?"

"I'm not surprised you've struggled to find it. Huwan isn't on any maps anymore. Thousands and thousands of miles mostly South, and somewhat West of here. Far below Lanxi. A few days' boat ride from Gaoling, and not incredibly far from the South Pole. It's on Chenyao Island, but on the remote side," She explains.

A thought crops up in Yin's mind. With a smile, she tells her, "In fact, anymore Huwan is a perfect village where someone could go and disappear and never be found again."

The women share a knowing smile. Akola thinks Yin will make for an interesting ally. A clever one, but not necessarily one she can fully trust. She clicks her tongue and asks a question.

"Well, Yin, this has been an illuminating conversation. What other very personal topics can we get into?"

With a laugh, Yin puts a finger under her chin and thinks. She offers, "Hmmm. How do you feel about the Royal Family?"

"-and as if it isn't bad enough as it is, we've got fucking bender supremacist rising up by the dozens in Ba Sing Se. And the government isn't doing shit about it."

"Wow. Well. That was a lot. And if I'm honest, I think you need to get some rest, Suki."

"I need to get a fucking lead, that's what I need. This asshole, 'never lifted a finger' schtick is infuriating."

"Sokka is going to be worried sick if you don't get home soon."

"He's not even here anymore."

"Huh?"

"He left Republic City this morning. Headed back to the South Pole."

"Really?"

"Fuck if I know. He might've gone to Avatar Island, or to stare at his ex in the sky for all I know."

"Are things really that bad between you two?"

"They're not fucking good. Actually, they're not even fucking, let alone good, at this point."

"Well shit. There's your answer!"

"Hm?"

"You need something to take the edge off! Why don't we go get a drink?"

"Don't threaten me with a good time, girl."

"C'mon, let's go. I'm gonna pump you full of more cactus juice until you pass out."

"So I told her that I've seen cactus juice is destroying the lives of the Lower Ring people, and the Monarchy has a fair share of the blame in that, using it to further the cycle of oppression and such, and, well, let's just say she disagreed vehemently."

"You just can't help but to pick a fight, can you?"

"Me? Never."

Akola and On Ji walk home together, having just left the poetry club at the meeting house. As penance for arriving late, Jin offered to stay behind to clean up, reset the room, and lock up for the night. Even though Akola was responsible for their late arrival, because she is not yet a member she is excused from such punishment.

"So what did you think? Wanna join us?"

"Oh yes. You meet monthly I think I overheard? I'll be there next month with a few of my older works. Some things that are a little rough and could use some refinement."

"Oh, I'd love that, 'Kola."

"I can't wait to show Ty Lin."

"Yeah? Why's that?"

"Most of my poetry is about her."

Walking the opposite way of them is a roving group of four, including three large men and a taller, leaner one. It's late at night, the sun has long since set, and high seated lamps only barely light the darkness. Neither Akola nor On Ji pay them any mind, too wrapped up in their own conversation. But as the two groups draw closer, the leader whispers something only his cronies can hear.

"Speaking of whom, when is she coming back to visit? I want to go on a double date. Maybe get some noodles and just talk. She is so much fun!"

"She's the best, right?" Akola is always quick to prop up her princess, even when she's not around.

"Absolutely! No Siq, no one from the Southside, just the four - AHH!"

As the two groups went to pass each other one of the large men threw his hip, almost naturally, into On Ji and set her falling to the floor. His movement would've been imperceptible to the naked eye, but Akola's eyes are not untrained. She does not reach for On Ji and thereby turn her back on the combatants. She stands ready and stares them down. On Ji looks up at Akola, distressed, hoping for a hand. One of the men leers down at her.

"What's the matter, Miss? Need help getting up?"

"If you touch her again, it'll be the last thing you ever do."

They turn towards the Immortal Soldier.

"Is that so?" The three of them step forward.

"I'll only say this once: Stand down, or I'll put you in the ground."

"Are you supposed to scare us or something?" One hulking bastard stares down at her, practically on top of her.

There's a fire in her eyes that is unnerving in its calmness.

"I should terrify you."

There is a calm and peaceful moment as three grown men stare down a small woman who just left a poetry house. However any doubt that they had harbored about their directive has been wiped away by her attitude and approach to the situation. She digs her heels in while arms remain at her sides, nonthreatening. The one on her left takes the first swing.

In the blink of an eye, Akola's left hand rises up and catches the fist mid-air. As the eyes of the other men raise to see this, so too does the balled fist of Akola's free hand. With a precise strike she disrupts the flow of his chi, and then she follows through with another lower on his arm. Just like that, his entire arm is lifeless, and with a devious smile she pulls his fist with force, slingshotting his body forward and to the ground beside her. He can't even brace his fall as he collapses into a heap on the floor.

"HANDS!" The assailant on her right screams.

He quickly lunges forward and grabs Akola's right hand with both of his, presumably to prevent her from chiblocking. With both of his hands he forcefully grips her hand and pulls her fingers apart so she can't form a fist. She raises an eyebrow at him and takes a step towards him. She hasn't done this in years, yet she remembers it all so easily. She twists her fingers in his hands and feels the power rush through her body, down to her fingertips.

"Gaaaaaah!"

Like a flash of lightning, the massive human of a man is shocked and electrocuted. He gurgles and tries to scream. Akola lifts her hand up above his head as he falls to his knees, shaking violently. She knows if she holds on for much longer he won't survive. With a flick of her wrist she releases her grip on him and pulls her hand away. He falls backwards onto the ground, convulsing from the shock.

"What the fuck!" The lone remaining goon shouts, standing directly in front of her having watched her dispatch his partners with ease. "What the fuck are you?"

She tilts her head and smirks a bit. She answers the question.

"I'm your worst fucking nightmare."

She pump fakes him, pretending to dash forward but really staying anchored where she is, and he bites hard on it. He scrambles backwards and falls on his ass to the ground. She snickers at him before hearing a slow clapping noise. She turns her attention to the man who set this all in motion. He has long, slick black hair, tan skin, and bright amber eyes. His robes are lilac and deep navy. He is tall and lean. She recognizes him instantly as the man speaking at the Bender Supremacist rally earlier.

"Exceptional. A bender and you've been trained to chi-block? You're one of a kind!"

"And you're next." Akola says, stepping to him.

"Tut tut! Not so fast. There's no need for any further violence. You've earned your peace today with that showing."

"So you're going to run from the fight? Like a coward?"

"Maybe so, but a dead soldier plots no revenge. Only the living can do that. Cowards or not."

Akola growls at him but he doesn't take the bait. She is contemplating attacking this man and teaching him a lesson when a voice speaks to her.

"Akola!" It painfully whispers to her through the night.

She turns quickly to see On Ji, still on the ground, in shock, mouth agape. Akola steps away from the man but he speaks to her again.

"Akola? So that's your name?"

She ignores him, going to the ground to tend to On Ji and examining her for bruises or scrapes.

"Well, Akola, I am Shulun. And you have our respect," he bows slightly to her, but she pays him no mind. After he's done he gestures to his men, "Come along, brothers. Let's leave Akola and her friend to their night."

Once they're gone, Akola rises to her feet. She leans over and extends a hand to On Ji. "C'mon, you're clean. Let's get you up."

On Ji does not take the hand at first. Akola looks up at her face and realizes that the woman is seeing her for the first time in a completely different light. She is scanning Akola and reading her, trying to justify the woman she knows and the display she just witnessed. Akola feels the eyes of judgment upon her. In two years she has never bent in front of anyone besides Siq, and she has not bent lightning at any point. She can only imagine what On Ji is thinking right now.

"Listen, On Ji, I know what you saw may have surprised you. I hope you can understand, I just-"

On Ji launches herself off the ground and into an embrace of the raven haired librarian. Akola wraps her arms around her fellow Fire Nation woman. Akola looks around as she hears On Ji crying over her shoulder. Unsure of what to do or how to process any of this she stumbles upon a question.

"Are you alright, On Ji?"

The only words that On Ji can say in response, the only words she'll say the rest of the way home and in the days to come, reverberate in Akola's ears.

"Thank you!"

A/N: This chapter's OST is "The Batman Theme (Something's in the Way)" by Nirvana.

Love always. Tyzula forever.

Notorious