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Katara was nine years old when The Jasmine Dragon first opened its doors to the public. Gran Gran had taken her out on a Girls Day, but she was nine years old, she could read between the lines.
It’s been a year since her mom was killed in a botched mugging.
Her dad took Sokka out for a weekend fishing trip, and although a little piece of her wanted to go, to hang out with the boys, she didn’t want to see the haunted look in her father’s eyes. He’d been on edge for most of the week, and Katara could hear him watching old home videos of her mom from under the closed bedroom door.
So really, her day with Gran Gran was for the best.
Opening the door to the café, Katara waws instantly hit with the smell of herbal teas and the faint smell of cake. Her grandmother nudged her towards the counter, noticing that she was frozen in place, eyes full of wonder. There were older teenagers sitting in the corner, reading books and highlighting passages on the actual textbook. Katara wished she could write in her school textbooks. She’d add a doodle to anything that deserved one whenever class got boring.
There was an elderly pair playing a game of chess at a different table, heads bowed in deep concentration. She imagines that this is how Sokka would be whenever he grew old, except maybe by then the board games would be on a console like their new Playstation 2.
It was a gift from their mom, bought before—
—Katara thinks she’ll fare better today if she didn’t think about it. She has to stay strong for her family.
“Yes, this is my granddaughter, Katara. Do you still have the boba tea?” Gran Gran asked the portly old man at the counter.
Whoever this old man was, when he smiled, he smiled from the crinkle of his eyes. Katara decides then and there that she likes him. “Of course, and what a pretty name for a pretty girl. How old are you?” he asks, warmth radiating from within him.
Yes, this is a nice man.
Ducking her head shyly with a blush tinting her cheeks, Katara replies, “I’m nine, sir.”
The man looks at her, then Gran Gran, and laughs. “Oh no, no, that will not do. Sir sounds much too stern, please call me Iroh,” he says with a grin, coming around the counter to shake her hand. “I actually have a niece your age.”
Katara’s eyebrows shot up, because she’s never seen an uncle as old as him. He doesn’t look like a local, so maybe it’s a normal thing where he comes from. “—a playdate one of these days,” her grandmother says, then adds in a hushed tone, “it’s been a difficult time for her, all of us really.”
Iroh nods, solemn. “Has it really been a year already?” Glancing at Katara, he adds, “Alas, my niece and nephew are home with their father, but they’ll be in town for the summer. I think they’ll get along, although Azula can be challenging sometimes.”
A niece and a nephew? Katara allows the corners of her mouth to twitch. She doesn’t have too many friends since her family moved to the other side of town, a safer part of town, after…just after. It was a bit late in the year for a new kid to start to really make friends, and summer vacation is lurking around the corner.
Needless to say, Katara was too new to be included in any of those plans. Her new room still has boxes.
Her lip starts to quiver, and she rubs at her eye with the back of her hand.
Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry—
A plastic cup with a large straw is placed in front of her, and she accepts it with her other hand.
“Crying is not a sign of weakness, Katara,” the gravelly voice says. “Sometimes it’s better to let it out. Nothing good comes from a blocked stream.” She sees Irohs face through watery eyes, and the tears start to flow freely.
Iroh’s niece and nephew never make it down for the summer.