Chapter Text
The walls on the house must have likely been painted over ten times at this point already.
Fifteen-year-old Toph didn’t care. She was buying paint regardless. She doesn’t have much money but a resolved and satisfied smile ghosted at the corners of her lips as she slid the same brand of white paint and a new roller over the register. She blew on a stray strand of hair sticking to her face while scanning the nearby merchandise. The displays nearest to the entrance of the depot were different kinds of tiles and floorboards. She mentally judged each one and wondered what her preferences would be if she could only afford it for her dream house.
She bit her cheek as the disinterested cashier rang out her items and cited the total before carefully counting her coins to give the exact amount. She knew there wouldn’t be enough for a sweet treat after this purchase but that’s fine as long as the painting materials were secured.
The can is heavy and the roller made the paper bag jostle against her chest. Her school uniform was crumpled after much struggle with the weight of the paint but there’s a bounce to her step as she made her way home with her purchase.
The uphill climb to her house burned her lungs raw. It was a short and forgiving incline but carrying the large can of paint proved to be quite the challenge on her small frame. Toph didn’t have a lot of meat on her bones to begin with and the sweat rolling down her brow was obscuring her one good eye. She slowed her pace as she approached the dilapidated and rusted gate of the house. She craned her neck trying to peek above the open slats, waiting to see any movement from within. After a moment of sensing nothing, she placed the paper bag on the ground and carefully unlocked the gate. It usually made a sharp creaking sound because it was so old but Toph learned over the years how to work it to avoid causing a ruckus as much as possible. She grabbed the paper bag, stepped into the shabby yard, and closed the gate behind her while still peeking over her shoulders, wary of any movement from inside the house.
Her father, Lao, wouldn’t be due home until much later that evening.
Perfect.
This was her chance to paint the walls in her room.
She quickly trotted off into the house and bounded across the small living room in glee. Toph’s room was small and nearly bare, save for a bed, a study table, and a small cabinet. She dropped her backpack on the bed and the depot bag on the floor.
She felt the excitement in her bones as she scoured her cabinet for her most ragged-looking house clothes. There weren’t that many choices. Most of what she owned were old and faded. But she had some shirts and pants she kept specifically for chores because she knew she couldn’t afford swapping out her wardrobe often if she ruined whatever meager belongings she had.
“Aha!” She exclaimed when she found what she was looking for. A sallow blue shirt with a neckline stretched from wear and a pilled pair of cotton shorts that would hang above her knobby knees. She quickly discarded her uniform and haphazardly folded it over the back of her study chair. She hurriedly slipped into the shirt and shorts before reaching for the brown paper bag on the floor.
“Now, where did I put that thing?” She whispered to herself while unwrapping the roller and plucking off pieces of stray lint as she looked around the room. She caught sight of the paint tray peeking from underneath the bedframe. It was caked with layers of white paint from multiple previous uses. She grabbed it and blew off some dust bunnies before grabbing a rag to wipe it down.
In minutes, she had covered half a wall with a fresh layer of white paint. In less than two hours, she had covered all four corners entirely in a gleaming, shiny coat of white that made the small room look pristine and bright.
“Much better.” Toph smiled, stepping back to admire her handiwork. She replaced the lid on the paint can and reminded herself to wash the roller and tray in the backyard right away so she won’t have to buy new ones next time. The old roller ended up drying with the paint still on it. She was pissy about it for a while, knowing she’d have to spend money again on a brandnew one. The pay at her part-time weekend gig at a nearby corner store was barely enough for an allowance and saving up wasn’t easy.
Toph carefully carried the tray and roller out to the backyard faucet and started cleaning. She had to scrub until the water ran clear. She gazed up at the back of the house and took in the sight of the cracked cement and peeling paint on the outer walls. If she could reach that high and had more paint, she would’ve had a field day scraping and painting the whole house until it was new again.
“One thing at a time.” She sighed, scrubbing the drying flecks of paint on her hands before flicking her arms in the air to get rid of the excess water. She picked up the cleaned tray and roller before trudging back into the kitchen door and into her room. The smell of the fresh paint seemed more pungent after being away for a brief moment. Satisfaction bloomed in her chest as she took a fat whiff of the paint-heavy air of her bedroom.
The paint tray and roller found their spot back under the bed. Toph plopped herself on the mattress and rummaged through her bag while occasionally glancing at the walls. It’s comical how something so plain and mundane could make her happy. She dreaded having to wrangle the beast called homework but in consolation, she thought, at least she would be doing it in a freshly-painted and clean bedroom.
There was peace in that and in that moment, it seemed enough. Never mind the ache that crept on her shoulders and neck after straining to make sure she got the corners of the walls filled just right. Or the weariness weighing on her eyelids after a lengthy school day. The labor of painting a whole room felt rewarding but now, Toph had to shift her focus on something far less interesting.
It’s 11th-grade chemistry homework time.
Hours had passed and Toph had fallen asleep on her study table. The chair wasn’t the right height for the desk which left her with a strained post-nap back. She frowned at the warped page of her textbook where her sweaty forehead had been before glancing at the clock on the wall.
Shit.
It’s half past eight. She hasn’t done anything other than the paint job in her room and a few pages of homework. Her father could be home any minute.
Soreness and warmth had fully settled into her limbs now. It usually happens after doing strenuous chores. She grit her teeth and hauled herself up before hurriedly scrambling out to the hallway. The house was small but her rushed movements still felt too slow to get where she needed to be in time. Toph just turned around the corner, into the direction of the small kitchen.
Lao Beifong was already standing beside the table, suitcase still in hand, yanking at his necktie. His face was stoic but his movements exuded annoyance. He turned to Toph as he heard her footsteps. Toph’s heart pounded in her chest as Lao’s brows furrowed.
“What did I say about making sure dinner was ready before I get home?”
He slammed his suitcase with a loud thud on the table. His fists clenched and his arms swung with his stride as he approached Toph who seemed frozen in place at the sight of him.
“You useless fucking child.”
Lao’s hand grasped her hair and he yanked her forcefully back into her room. He huffed in hot breaths as Toph tried to find her balance and voice at the sudden assault. She could only yelp as Lao’s grip tightened on her hair and her feet kicked uselessly while she was being dragged. Her breathing picked up pace. The image of her father seething was hardly a new sight but it rattled her all the same.
‘Damn it, I just painted my room clean too.’
It was the last thought in her head before Lao Beifong flung her across the floor of her room, her body hitting the cabinet in the corner with a loud crash.