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My dad changed his mind. He said I was free to travel the world.
“I’m tired. I’m going to go to my room,” Toph says, when Aang and Katara and Sokka finally leave, and she's stuck standing there in front of her parents. It doesn’t come out as calm as she really wished it did. She hates how she’s crying, hates the way her voice cracks and sounds too thick. It’s so humiliating. In the moment, she hates the whole world. And Lao and Poppy Beifong are at the top of that list.
“You've had a long day, sweetie. Goodnight.” her mother says, in that too-calm voice she puts on when she thinks Toph is being irrational. Not like they’re the ones that practically want to chain her to the wall or anything.
“Guards! Make sure she stays safe,” her father says sharply, waving a hand. Two of them follow.
Toph nods to herself and takes in a shaking breath. Crossing her arms over her chest, she darts out of the room. The pair of guards follow distantly, lagging several feet behind her. She’s not quite running. She wants to at least seem okay. The last thing she needs right now is her mom to think that means she needs comfort, or something, and chase after her. The guards wait, lingering in the wall when Toph goes into her room. She slams the door behind her.
They’re going to keep her locked up in her big house for the rest of her life. Goodbye, Aang, goodbye, Earth Rumble, goodbye, having even a second to herself ever again. Her blood is boiling under skin, and she just wants to yell and scream and bring the whole house down with her. She makes a small, strangled noise in the back of her throat and punches the wall a little too hard. It leaves a dent. A few loosened pebbles of stone fall down at her feet. Too light and small for her to even feel them, they leave her feeling even more trapped.
The thing is, Toph’s never really thought about running before. Not seriously. So she’d ran away once or twice, three times, when she was little, and she’d been sneaking out to fight for a little more than a year. That was different. But it isn’t like she can stay. Not when her father’s already sending a pair of guards after her to what, watch her sleep? She can feel them standing there, under her feet, and she hates it all so much. Her father, her mother, the guards that just sit there and do everything he tells them to.
She’s not going to bring the house down. A day ago, it would have been unthinkable to leave her parents in anything more than some weird, bored daydream. Now, it’s her only real choice. The thought of spending whole life in this nice family home of a prison is terrifying. She isn’t even staying- she’s leaving, as soon as she can, and it still makes her shudder. Aang and all them will take her if she can catch up to them before they take off. They trust her, they know who she is, they want her to come.
If she misses them- well. She’s not going to let that happen. She’s going to leave, she’s going to get out of here.
She throws off her dress, changing as fast as she could. An urgent timer ticks in her mind. It isn’t like they’re waiting for her or anything. They’re all going leave as soon as they’re ready. Toph throws her window open, hesitating for a second to listen. No footsteps, no guards waiting to ambush her outside. She sucks in a deep breath, climbs over the ledge, and jumps.
It’s only a first floor window, so the jump isn’t a long one. She lands hard on her feet and takes off running. Toph throws everything she has into running faster and faster, leaping over the grass and rock. Her lungs burn, her side cramping as she runs. Under her feet, she feels Aang and Katara and Sokka, all the way up on the top of the hill. All the way on the other end of the gardens outside her house. Which are, honestly, huge. They’re all moving around, packing up their stuff, about to leave. Without her. She just can’t get there soon enough.
She reaches them at almost the last second, panting hard and fast.
“Toph! What are you doing here?” Aang asks. Right, right, like she’d ever let them keep her locked up like that.
She gives them some crap about her dad changing his mind. It’s the most obvious lie in the world, but she’s not about to risk telling them anything that might make them send her back now.
“Well, we’d better get out of here- before your dad changes his mind again,” Sokka says. He knows, she knows, they all know, but it’s not like it matters if he let her come or not.
She wins her belt back and climbs up on Appa’s saddle, looping her arm through the side. She rests her head on the side, closing her eyes. Underneath her, the bison grumbles loud and low and flicks its tail, leaping off the ground. Her stomach swoops and twists uncomfortably with every rise and fall and turn, but still. She’s free, and she’s getting out of there. It’s only been about five or ten minutes, but she can’t wait to live for herself, to live as herself. It’s nice. It’s exciting.