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Yue’s light cast over the bay named after her, water rippling softly in the moonlight. The night air was cool and calm, carrying a faint scent of flower blossoms and the distinctive salty tang from the bay. Most nights, Bumi is able to look out at the bay and let the rhythmic sound of the waves drown out the thoughts in his head.
Tonight is not most nights.
Tonight was his breaking point. Over his life, Bumi has always hidden his true feelings behind a carefully crafted persona. He was the fun sibling, always searching for the next adventure and joyfully finding the best in any situation. Sokka had always blamed his restless energy on Aang, saying it was the nomad in him. Katara would blame Sokka, saying his restlessness came from listening to Sokka’s countless stories of glory, enchanting him with stories of far away lands. Aang would always smooth down his hair and say it was just normal little kid energy.
None of them knew the truth of course.
Bumi wasn’t even sure he knew at this point. As a kid, he was excited and eager to explore the world like his parents had, using his bending to help him out. It didn’t matter if he felt the call to the wind like his father or the pull of the sea like his mother. Either way, he would be happy.
He waited until he was five, knowing bending took a while to show up. It hurt seeing his little sister bending water like a natural when she was three, but it was okay. He knew it could take a few years for his bending to appear, he was fine to wait. Kya was just an early bloomer. He ignored the feeling of dread under his skin and told himself he was just happy for his sister.
At first, he thought it was because he didn’t know enough. Even after extensively studying countless scrolls, he couldn’t bend. Then he thought it was because he wasn’t physically fit enough. He stopped eating and began working out at the young age of eight, hoping it would make the spirits take pity and bless him. Every night he would cry and beg the spirits for the ability to bend.
It was harder to keep those prayers up at age ten when Tenzin started airbending at five years old. He could still be a bender…right? It got harder to hold on to those childhood dreams as he grew older, to hold on to that slim chance he could bend.
He turned twelve and decided to give up. His bending wasn’t going to appear, no matter how hard he begged the spirits for one more chance to prove himself. The spirits had decided he wasn’t worth it. He was fine.
Katara had Kya. Aang had Tenzin. He had nobody. That was a partial lie. He had his Uncle Sokka.
Uncle Sokka told him how it was okay to feel bitter about being a nonbender. He was the only nonbender on Team Avatar, aside from Sukki, and look at how well he turned out! He didn’t need bending to outsmart anyone, just his brain. Bumi nodded but knew some traitorous part of him would always want to bend.
He decided to join the United Forces when the opportunity presented itself with him getting stuffed into a potato sack. He traveled the world and used his brain, just like his Uncle Sokka said, and outsmarted all of his enemies. He quickly rose through the ranks, proving himself at every twist and turn no matter what was thrown at him.
Then came the day of his uncle’s death.
He looked at the letter, wondering if he somehow lost the ability to read. These characters didn’t make sense. Uncle Sokka couldn’t be dead. He wasn’t old enough. Bumi still needed him.
He was offered a long leave of absence after his Uncle’s death. He rejected the leave offered, choosing to stay and bury his grief with work. He ignored the concerned looks from his peers. He was fine. He had to be fine. He had no choice but to be fine, so he was fine.
Then came his father’s death. He took a few weeks off, traveling to see his family. He watched Kya comfort his mother. He comforted his mother too, but felt like his words couldn’t convey how he really felt. Tenzin had to step up to take Aang’s place as the sole surviving airbender. The future of a nation rested on his shoulders, similar to his father.
Bumi was out of his element. He couldn’t relate to his family anymore, so he left using the United Nations as a feeble excuse. Kya and Tenzin accepted it, but Bumi wasn’t even sure if they even noticed how shaky his voice was. Katara noticed, a maternal instinct screaming at her that something was wrong with her son, but by the time she decided to ask Bumi what was wrong he was gone.
Bumi loved his family, but he knew he was better off observing from a distance. He happily kept the distance for seventeen long years, even when it killed it, because it was what they needed.
That all changed when General Iroh telegraphed him with the urgent news of an Equalist attack threatening his family. He hid his fleet at Red Sand Island, waiting for a signal, ignoring the rising anxiety within him.
When he saw Tenzin again, he put on his carefully constructed persona. Seeing his brother in those airbender robes made him think of his father. He squashed those traitorous feelings his heart brought him, unable to deal with them at the moment. He let the kids infect him with their endless energy, acting like he was okay. He was Bumi! Why wouldn’t he be okay?
Six months later he was seated across from General Iroh, feeling anxiety rise within his chest at the man’s serious face.
“Bumi, have you ever thought about retiring?” he asked.
Bumi smiled. “I did when I was younger. I thought I would retire and pick up a trade in some small town without a name somewhere in the Fire Nation, but never did. I always had to return to my family when they needed me, so I had to be accessible.”
“They need you,” General Iroh said, his eyes conveying a pain far beyond his years. He was two decades younger than Bumi, but that didn’t mean shit out here. He’s seen the same war horrors Bumi has, maybe even worse with his position.
“They don’t need me,” he said, laughing without humor.
The other man reached across the table and clasped Bumi’s hand. “Bumi, Tenzin almost lost everything. His kids were nearly killed in front of him. He thought Korra was dead.”
“I know,” he said, squeezing the other man’s hands. “They don’t need me ruining things.”
“You’re too hard on yourself. You fix a lot of things. You help so many of us and don’t even realize it. We can handle ourselves fine out here Bum, but they need you more than they’re willing to admit. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, but if you want to retire I can get you a shit ton of benefits,” he said.
The next day Bumi turned in his uniform. He had to face his family, even if the thought made him want to flee. They needed him now, especially after almost breaking.
The next few weeks passed as normal as he reunited with Tenzin and Kya. They went through all their shit with Unalaq, but what was a family reunion without drama? The stupid fucking argument with his siblings brought up old pain he buried under mountains of work and years of repression. Suddenly, he was twelve years old again, feeling the world around him burn as he stared at the wall trying not to crack under the pressure. They made up as families do, but Bumi didn’t move on. He still felt as worthless as he did as a kid, even after saving his siblings.
That was fine though. As long as they were safe, Bumi would be okay. He had to be. He had no more time for crying.
Then he found he had a natural affinity for spirits because of fucking course he would. Ironic that he could go into the Spirit World without an issue but he could never bend. The spirits had ignored his pleas and gave him a cruel gift of irony. He could watch, but he could never partake.
That all changed when he found out he could airbend. Everyone laughed him off or told him to stop joking when he tried to explain himself. It lit an old fire inside of him, fueling the pain that had never really gone away. He was being honest, he wasn’t lying! He cast aside the mental image of him crying at night, begging the water to ripple just a little bit or begging the wind to change just a little bit.
Then Meelo threw the plate at him and he just reacted. He threw his hands in front of him, expecting a hit that never came. He watched the plate spin in his hands, realizing his childhood prayers were answered. He could airbend, but didn’t expect the sudden dread to rise within him. But he was Bumi, he would be happy.
He called his mom and told her about the great news, excitedly talking with her for a while. He hung up the phone when the sun dipped below the horizon and Yue started to rise. He knew this should be a happy day for him, but he couldn’t muster the energy to keep his mask on.
That’s how he ended up on the roof, watching Yue cross the sky. When he started living with Tenzin, he couldn’t always explain why he was awake at night. He couldn’t explain the horrors of war, so he told stupid stories to make his family not worry. They didn’t need to worry about him, he was fine.
One night, Tenzin caught him in the kitchen making a cup of tea and tried talking with him. Bumi appreciated the effort, but sometimes he just couldn’t talk about his trauma. Even just thinking of opening up like that to anyone made his skin crawl. That’s why he began heading to the roof.
Nobody looked for him up here. He could let his persona and countless masks drop safely up here. He was okay. He looked out at the water, wishing his brain would stop agonizing over pain he thought he buried. He wasn’t ten anymore, begging the spirits for the ability to bend and then crying himself to sleep in his room. He was nearing sixty, no longer blind to the true nature of the world and the people who live in it.
He would fight with every last breath in his body to make sure none of his loved ones ever felt like he did as a kid. Jinora, Meelo, Ikki and Rohan would never feel like they were inadequate or worthless as long as he lived. He could put on whatever persona they needed to thrive and flourish like they were supposed to.
He had years of practice after all.