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The summit had gone on for hours. Kyoshi was on the verge of screaming by the time the delegates finally reached an uneasy agreement, solid enough that the Avatar's presence was no longer required.
She wasn't sure how many times across the day she'd almost reached for her fans, but she knew it was too many. Rangi would have hissed reproach, probably, pressed a hard booted foot down on Kyoshi's when she noticed her fingers twitching. As if Rangi wouldn't have been restraining the urge to fire-punch them all herself.
But Rangi was visiting home, which had left Kyoshi facing the horrors of diplomacy alone. She'd grown used to these events, across the years, but never grown to like them any better. Asides from the endless posturing and debating and obscene privilege on display, the social niceties always evaded her understanding.
She hadn't quite made another blunder to rival mistaking Fire Lord Zoryu's brother for the Fire Lord himself, but it had been a near thing. Rangi despaired of her ever learning diplomatic social intricacies, but she'd softened to it over the years, understanding it wasn't for lack of trying.
Kyoshi really had been trying.
Home at last, she shut the door heavily behind her. Resisted the urge to slump down against it, so great was the relief of being finally alone. The social dance had scraped the energy from her insides. She wanted a dark room, wanted the simplicity of bending or moving her body, wanted to fall asleep with Rangi warm as a coal between her arms.
Wanted something that didn't require overthought, watchfulness of every inch of her body, every flicker of her face, every barbed word between the politicians she stood among.
She kicked her shoes from her feet, drew off her headdress and dropped it heavily to a table in the hall, wincing at the clang of metal.
Made her way slowly towards the bedroom, shedding extraneous layers as she went, but folding them neat and careful, because old habits never died.
They still kept the house in Yokoya, its walls too history-laden to be discarded. But Kyoshi had opened its doors to children like she once was, lost in the cracks of the world.
Their home now was smaller, cosier. Only the two of them. Rangi had protested that, at first. An Avatar should have a palace to live in.
Kyoshi had reminded her of what she'd said back when they were sixteen: I don't need a palace. Not when I have you.
And Rangi had agreed, eventually, that the privacy was nice. Kyoshi was glad of the same now, wiping her paint cursorily in a mirror before she made a turn towards the bedroom, ready to drop.
Somewhere, something creaked. Kyoshi's instincts snapped to belated alertness. She reached for her fans, remembered she'd set them down. Lifted her hands instead, lighting a flame over her palm. Her fine control had improved, though she still needed the fans for her bending's full potential.
“Show yourself, now,” she warned. Layered menace over her voice's tired cracks. “I am not in the mood for company.”
From the bedroom doorway, a small snort of laughter.
Kyoshi recognised that laugh.
The door slid open. Rangi stood in the threshold, lips twitching at the corners even as a frown dug between her brows. “Not even mine?”
Kyoshi dropped her hands. Stared.
Rangi shook her head. “Shut your mouth, rocks-for-brains, you'll catch a bumble fly.”
Kyoshi gathered herself, crossed the distance in two steps, and caught Rangi in a fierce hug. Pressed her cheek to the top of her hair, drew in the flowery scent, the soft strands against her skin, the solid warmth of Rangi's body.
“I thought you weren't back for a week,” she breathed. Felt oddly that she might cry. The past days had wound her tight as the skin of a drum. She could feel each of her muscles begin to relax in Rangi's arms, catching up to safety, to the feeling of being home.
Rangi tightened her grip. “Atuat arrived to drag Mother off somewhere. She extended the offer to me, but... I knew you'd be slacking at your training. And I'm not convinced I'd enjoy following those two, anyway.”
“Has Hei-Ran admitted what they are to each other yet?” Kyoshi asked, trying to suppress her grin. Knew you'd be slacking was Rangi-code for I missed you.
Rangi sighed, a short, frustrated sound. “She refuses to discuss it.”
“Like mother, like daughter,” Kyoshi joked. Then, at Rangi's sound of protest– “Sorry.” She exhaled, softened further into the embrace. “I missed you.”
“I thought you weren't in the mood for company.”
Kyoshi grinned into her hair. “I didn't mean you.”
Rangi drew back, looked at her in affront. “I don't qualify as company?”
“No, that isn't–” Kyoshi swallowed, hastily attempting to patch the mistake. “It's just– I can be alone, with you. And I don't have to be the Avatar. I can be Kyoshi.”
Rangi's smile showed itself, tugging at the corners of her lips like sunlight. “I know.” She leaned in, then, drew Kyoshi down towards her by the collar: “And I have the perfect way for us to spend our alone time.”
Her lips brushed the corner of Kyoshi's mouth. Kyoshi grinned and chased the kiss as she drew away.
“Stance training,” Rangi whispered.
Kyoshi's stomach plunged in horrible recognition. She stared at Rangi, eyes wide. “The summit lasted hours. And I've practised every morning you were gone. Can't we–”
And Rangi's face cracked open, grin stretching wide. “You've gone soft, Avatar.” She leaned back in, drew Kyoshi down into a searing kiss. “Disgustingly, I have too.”
“What?” Kyoshi mumbled, blinking as Rangi drew back again. Nine years in and she was still left breathless and reeling whenever Rangi kissed her like that. Head spinning, thoughts scattered and wandering aimlessly for somewhere to land.
Rangi shook her head. “It was a joke, rocks-for-brains. This time. Tomorrow, we're doing Horse Stance.”
“Tomorrow,” Kyoshi promised, “I'll do whatever you like.”
“Then tonight,” Rangi whispered, low and breathy, hand curling round her waist. “I'll return the favour.”
Kyoshi melted into the kiss, couldn't keep the absurd grin off her face as Rangi backed her towards the bed.
She'd come home relieved to be alone. Couldn't be happier, now, to be alone together.