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Toph liked things rough.
She'd spent nearly twelve years swaddled in silk, plush cushions, and the dainty hands of Earth Kingdom nobility—and even the latter was not something she had experienced too often. Sometimes, her mother's fingers would delicately pull back a lock of her hair and tuck it behind her ear. That would tickle. Sometimes, Master Yu would adjust her earthbending posture with the lightest grip possible, and Toph would feel like there was a ghost lingering uncertainly right above her wrists.
Her father never touched her.
They dressed her in large, airy robes that tickled her wrists. They lathered and washed her hair vigorously until it smelled like mangoes and fell around her face in soft wisps.\
And, oh, spirits, she had hated every second of it.
It was like she had been born with a bubble around her. No one dared to lay a finger in her proximity unless it was one free of calluses or cuts. One that couldn't hurt her soft, delicate skin.
Toph Beifong, daughter of the esteemed Luo and Poppy. Toph Beifong, sheltered, naive, pitiful. Toph Beifong, frail, sickly.
Blind.
The ghost touches had never satisfied her, so she set out to satisfy herself.
And damn, did it feel good.
The floor of the Earth Rumble arena was rough. She could feel each and every bump and dent under her soles, and her soles would drink it all in and demand more. More pits. More ridges. More glorious, beautiful imperfections.
She'd quench that thirst by giving the earth a resounding stomp, digging her heels into the crags, letting them embrace her up to the ankles as she knocked down her opponent with a mere flick of her wrist or two.
Boulder who?
The Blind Bandit's soft, pale feet were practically made for the rough terrain.
She...was pale, right? She would assume so. Already a part of nobility to begin with, practically treated like royalty in her own house, barely—no, never—allowed to do anything by or for herself—the sun was never allowed to beat down on a poor, fragile girl like her. The earth could never scar her feet.
So—pale, right? She didn't even know what pale was supposed to look like, but it meant the opposite of tan, and tan meant being out in the sun, right?
Right?
It's not like the Earth Rumble arena was out in broad daylight, either—so she should probably be—
You're doing it again.
Toph halted, digging her nails into her wrist, but not enough to hurt. She wrapped her palm around her wrist, closing in on it to feel her carpals through her skin.
But she needed more.
She bit her lip, feeling her teeth press into her flesh, dug her heels down into the dirt so she could feel every speck of soil slide and skitter across her feet, blinked once, twice, three whole times, and then on the fourth she just clamped her eyelids shut as hard as she could and didn't dare open them.
She didn't dare open them because they stung.
She had set out by herself because damn Twinkle Toes with his damn airbending kept doing his damn pointless acrobatic circus tricks instead of his damn training and damn damn damn damn damn.
Naturally, she had yelled at him. And naturally, he had yelled right back. It wouldn't have been natural had it been with anyone else, but always and only with Toph, Aang had learned that he had to either yell over her or have his own voice drowned out by her booming one.
Toph liked things loud as well as rough, of course. Earthbender thing.
Damn Twinkle Toes would never get it.
All four elements had their own characteristics: water was cold and wet. fire was warm and dry. air was warm and wet. Earth...
Toph stomped at the ground and sent a chunk of soil flying a good foot in the air.
Cold. Dry.
She was the complete damn opposite of the Avatar she was trying to help. But despite it all, there was one thing she could deduce.
The few times Aang had actually let his soles embrace the ground, Toph was able to sense that he was nervous.
And she hated it.
She was nervous, too. But here she was on the verge of tears like a spirits-damned crybaby over things as stupid as airbending and what her face looked like.
Wow! Great makeup!
She swiped at the invisible lipstick smeared on her face from her spa day with Katara and grit her teeth.
For a clown!
"FUCK YOU!"
It was far more guttural than she had expected, like the howl of a raging hog monkey. Sharp, searing—
—broken off harsh and high right at the end.
She dropped to her knees, tensing her muscles so she could feel the fabric clench around her thighs and dig into the backs of her knees.
Her eyes were still closed. She didn't dare open them.
In the end, she was still just a kid, wasn't she? Normally, that was something she'd announce smugly, with pride—and feel the heartbeats of all the adults around her quicken in surprise as they thought, Wow! Damn! The world's greatest earthbender is just a kid!
But now, tendons taut and sticky, sweaty palms pushed forcefully against her upper arms, all she could think was, Wow. Damn. The world's greatest earthbender is just a kid.
And the rest of her ragtag army—
"Toph?"
—Were all just kids, too.
Spirits damn her if she knew what he looked like, but she could recognize that soft, raspy voice anywhere. Sounded like he was parched all the damn time.
It was too soft. Annoyingly soft. Why couldn't people just speak loud and clear? She could tell if they were lying or not anyways, so it didn't make a damn difference if they tried to sweet-talk her, anyways. She was the world's greatest earthbender, after all, even if she was just a kid.
She turned around with as much nonchalance as possible, like she was expecting him this whole time, but the small gasp that escaped from her mouth betrayed her, quickly turning into a scowl meant for herself for keeping her guard down.
"What do you want?"
And, of course, that had come out much harsher than intended, too, like a sharp chunk of obsidian haphazardly sliced off of the remnants of a volcanic explosion. But whatever. She was a sharp person. Sure as spirits beat being unbearably soft.
"Uh...your eyes are, uh..." While his arms weren't connected directly to the ground, his feet were, and Toph could vaguely pick up that Zuko was gesturing to his face.
"Yeah?! Spit it out!"
"Uh. Closed."
"Oh." Toph deflated and spit into the dirt in frustration. "Shit. They are."
She didn't talk after that. He didn't talk after that. The air felt so thick and hazy that Toph wanted to make like a badgermole and burrow down into the dirt and never come back up.
After what seemed like at least five reincarnations, Toph heard him clear his throat in uncertainty.
"Are you, uh? Going to—?" More vague gestures towards his eyes.
"Mind your own business," Toph spat.
And that was the part where he had to go on some preachy rant about how they were all a team, and if they were going to defeat the Firelord, they had to be sappy and embarrassing and open up and share their fears and hopes and what they ate last night and their spirits-damned sandal size.
(Sokka's was a 26.5. He took this stuff very seriously for some reason).
Instead, what she got was:
"Sorry. I'll leave."
And then he never left.
His feet were were planted in the ground, stubborn enough to be an earthbender's.
She turned back around, away from him, still scowling. Spirits, she hated people who were just like her.
She would have bent a thick slab of earth to serve as a wall between them, but she could feel the pressure behind her eyes increasing dangerously. Any sudden movements would expose her. And she was only good at defense so long as she had an adequate shield in tow.
Without it?
"Just a kid."
She could almost hear Zuko frown as she gave a quick, hard slap to her forehead.
"What?"
She whipped around. "I said it was noth—!"
And then it was too late.
She hated tears and crying not just because they meant she was weak, but also because they were made of water. Water was slippery and soft. Air was hazy and ticklish. Fire was vague and untouchable (plus, it burned her feet). Earth was the only thing she could touch that wouldn't slip away.
And that's the other half of the reason why she so desperately and violently swiped away at the hot globs slithering down her cheeks, giving a single, violent sniffle as she finally opened up her eyes once more. Not that it really made a damn difference. And as she sensed Zuko kneeling down beside her and then crossing his legs, implying that it was going to take a while before things were back in balance again, she knew it was all her fault, not his.
Damn Blind Bandit and her damn earthbending that still doesn't make up for her damn whiny ass.
She took a deep breath to steady her voice before speaking. "Go," she hiccuped. She scowled and tried again. "Go away, Zuko. I know I look stupid right now."
"You don't."
He wasn't lying.
And that was what made Toph latch onto what was possibly the dumbest idea she could ever think of.
What if...
And yet, sometimes, a kid just couldn't help but wonder. Even if they were the world's greatest earthbender.
"Zuko." She said it evenly and slowly, both syllables clear and loud so she would know he heard. So she would know she heard before she decided to turn back.
"What do I look like?"
She could hear him shuffle on the ground a bit, repositioning his legs as his heart started racing almost indiscernibly higher in confusion. "What do you mean, haven't—" He coughed as Toph started smirking.
"—Oh. oh. No, wait!" Hands fluttering in the air. "That's—I kind of forg—I mean you're just so good at...your thing that I kind of forgot that—wait, wait no! Restart! That came out really wrong, I uh—"
She simply snickered, turning to face him and plopping her own legs onto the dirt in butterfly formation as she swiped at some snot above her lip.
"What do I look like?"
"Your face is round."
Toph snorted. "Oh, please, even I could figure that out." She framed her circular face with both of her palms and cracked her neck while she was at it. "I can't see, Zuko. It's not like I can't feel."
She could hear Zuko huff in response. "Fine. Your eyes are kind of...grayish green and—"
"I CAN'T SEE!"
"Then why did you ask?!"
She stiffened, melding in with the rock she had settled on top of. So far, she had learned that her hair was thick, soft, and black, she had a strong jaw, her cheekbones were higher than most people's, and she looked like she had what appeared to be a birthmark on her chin that was actually just a speck of mud.
And the more and more she figured out about herself, the more and more she realized that it didn't and wouldn't ever matter because she could never compare it to what other people looked like anyway. And that just made her even angrier.
And then she got even more angrier as she heard Zuko's breathy sigh.
"Sorry."
She shook her head in defeat. "No, you're right. It's useless."
"Hey!" he protested. "I never said that—"
"It's dumb," she continued. "And I'm being a whiny crybaby over it for no damn reason."
Damn. she almost chuckled. Damn damn damn damn fuck shit ass fuck damn. She knew she wasn't allowed to say it, and that's exactly why she did. That shock you get when you realize you're doing what you aren't supposed to, even in the smallest ways—sometimes it could ground you better than any lousy bending could. The only reason she never said it out loud in front of the rest of the gang was because she couldn't bear the thought of getting a lecture from Mr. Let's Have A Tea Party With The Firelord about what should come out of her damn mouth. The Avatar was just a kid.
"—Your nose is pretty small, kinda flat—"
Toph gaped back, increduous. "I thought I told you to quit it!"
"—Oh, but your eyebrows are pretty thick."
Her small, kinda flat nose scrunched up in confusion as she ran a finger across one of her pretty thick eyebrows and snorted. "These are thick?" She relaxed a bit, separating slightly from the rock.
"Yeah," he assented softly.
She yanked a hair out and twirled it around in her fingers, tongue sandwiched between her teeth for a good minute before she spoke.
"What, so you don't have any eyebrows at all?"
That was rhetorical. She wasn't expecting a—
"One."
She dropped the hair. "What?"
"I have one eyebrow."
She frowned. "Isn't that kind of, uh...not normal?"
It seemed like Zuko's voice had become progressively softer until it had dwindled down into nothing. Toph sighed and dug her teeth into the inside of her cheek. She was stuck with a bunch of not normal kids (well, except for maybe Sokka but she supposed just hanging around with the abnormal made him abnormal by merit), she'd always wanted to be a not normal kid, who was she to judge?
"Zuko, I didn't mean—"
"It's okay. I know. It doesn't matter, it's just an eyebrow."
His voice was still soft, and yet...his words seemed clipped. Obsidion. Toph hopped off her rock and dug her heels into the soil, if only to stop her racing mind from feeling too airy and elusive.
"Zuko...what do you look like?"
"Uh!" Toph could feel his body stiffen up in confusion, then slowly melt into the soil in even more confusion.
"No one's...asked me that before."
"Well, no duh! They have eyes, dum-dum!"
For some reason, that made his heartbeat quicken, and not in a good way, so Toph puffed out her cheeks, exhaled violently, and knelt down in front of Zuko, leaving a few inches to spare between them.
"You don't have to tell me."
"My face is kind of long, I guess," he began, completely ignoring Toph once more. "And you wouldn't notice it if you looked at me from the front, but my nose is a little hooked. I mean—it's not completely hooked, it's not like Sokka's or anything, but it's not as flat as Aang's, either. I'm...hmm. I'm not as pale as you, but I guess I'm still pretty pale. I'm paler than Katara and Sokka, and maybe even Aang. I mean—maybe I have to check just to make sure...wait, uh. Never mind. That sounds weird now that I think about it. And my eyes—"
He stopped. He stopped there. Toph frowned as she felt his entire body stiffen.
"I said you didn't have to," she hissed between gritted teeth.
And then she punched the ground because she didn't want to seem like even more of a freak by punching him.
And then he acted like a freak and grabbed her wrist.
"What the fu—"
"I just don't know how to explain it," he said, louder than usual, probably to prevent Toph from striking him in the jaw. And then he placed that solid, earthbending hand on his wispy, firebender face.
"Here."
Everything about his face was thin.
His chin tapered to a sharp angle. Toph could barely feel his lips; that's how thin they were. His nose was slender and pointed (and yeah, Toph could feel the curve).
Damn, and she thought she was obsidian. As a Beifong, everything about her was supposed to be elegant, almost to the point of frail (or to the point of frail, where her parents were involved); but with the Fire Prince, her hands felt clumsy and far too big to belong to her or on him.
"You could kill a man with that chin, Zuko."
"Uh...thanks."
And then, for the first time in the past few hours, she started laughing, her hand sweeping across his face until he flinched a bit and she asked why and he said "Sorry, I thought I was going to sneeze." And then she laughed even more.
But it stopped just as abruptly as it had started when she found it. It. The unexplainable.
"I...what is it?" she asked, fumbling around the edges where his skin had suddenly turned unnaturally cold for a firebender and almost twice as slick.
"A scar," he said, so quietly that Toph could barely register.
Damn it, just scream it at me. I can't handle this.
"It doesn't feel like a scar," she replied, although what she really meant was, It isn't a normal scar.
it was slick and cool around the edges, but as she inched closer towards the center, it grew almost unbearably hot and felt like rough patchwork. Like that one time her mom tried to "teach" her how to sew (teach here used loosely to mean she just grabbed her daughter's hand and guided every movement while Toph struggled not to scream like a raging hog monkey). She gasped a bit when she was able to feel his eye there, the lids stretched taut horizontally and lined with harsh bumps. Curious, she went up just a bit higher, and realized—yep. No eyebrow. Just a vast expanse of cool-hot skin her fingers didn't belong near. She pulled her hand back, her face burning and her stomach sinking with...shame, for some reason.
It wasn't even the scar itself that really did it for her: it was the eye, then the eyebrow (or lack thereof). And for some damn reason, it made her feel miserable.
Miserable when there were far bigger things to feel miserable about.
"How." She stated it like a command moreso than a question.
"My father."
"What?!"
The reaction was immediate, her right foot shoving forcefully against the dirt and pushing her upwards, both fists clenched. "He did this to you?"
Zuko gave some weird noise that sounded somewhere in between a snort and a humorless chuckle (Weird. She didn't know Sifu Hotman had it in him). "Are you really surprised?"
"I—" She stopped, her steps as she paced an inch back and an inch forth jagged and haphazard. "No—but—" she spat. "Fuck him," she decided, ceasing her pacing and digging into the dirt once more.
No response.
"Hey, Zuko...why did you come out here?"
"To think," he replied simply. Toph didn't ask for what. She figured she had pried enough for one day. She bet even he didn't know for what.
None of them really knew what they were doing at this point. Sometimes you just needed to get away from it all for a bit and calm yourself down. What else could a kid do?
She could sense Zuko's soles coming down on the ground once more as he stood up. His steps were light, fast, soft. Hers were hard, heavy, grounded. And for once in her life, Toph realized why some people stepped like that. His steps deflected his pain. Hers channeled hers.
Neither one was ideal, but maybe together—his light steps, her heavy ones, Sokka's strategic ones, Katara's fluid ones, Suki's swift ones, the floaty ones from dumb Twinkle Toes that she could barely register—they could find the right balance.
And maybe one day the ghosts would vanish. And maybe one day the world's greatest earthbender wouldn't be just a kid. And so wouldn't the Fire Prince and the Avatar and the girl who was most likely going to be the world's greatest waterbender (not that she would ever admit it, mind you) and the nonbending swordsman (it didn't feel right calling him a man, but "swordsboy" just sounded weird) and warrior who were still putting their lives on the line to restore peace in a world that had been scarred and beat up and damaged and almost everyone had lost hope, either that or there was a small glimmer of hope she could sense in them whenever they were talking about things they weren't supposed to talk about and their heart started speeding up—in a good way.
And that glimmer of hope came from them. Well—mostly from Aang, maybe, but from everyone else, too. And if—no, once they save the world, they'll look up to them. They'll look up and think, Wow. Damn. They were just kids.
She was just a kid.
And that's why right after she said thanks to Zuko and he asked what for, she launched herself away from him and declared that the last one back to camp was a rotten ostrich horse egg.
And that's why Zuko ran right behind her, eventually catching up with her neck to neck and giving her a run for her yuan. He almost beat her. But only almost.
After all, she was the world's greatest earthbender. It didn't matter if he or anyone else put up a fight, she would always win. It didn't matter how rough it got.
Toph liked things rough.