Chapter Text
Katara knew how to point her toes before she could speak. Ballet ran through her veins, her drive and fire. She kept her mother alive through perfected points and structured poses, hoping to be half the prima ballerina she once was. Now entering the doors of the Republic City Conservatory, Katara was alight with a new challenge. After winning several international competitions, she was determined to prove herself, land a few principal roles, and eventually secure a spot at a top dance company. However, studying at the conservatory had to be her first step forward. Although trained as well as she could by her dear grandmother, the opportunities in the Southern Water Tribe were simply too few and far between. Thankfully, her dedication paid off in a full scholarship.
A chic boat-neck leotard in dark blue adorned Katara’s shoulders, hair in a familiar plait down her back. Light wash mom jeans and dark blue sneakers completed the curated casual look. She kept her ballet shoes (both canvas and pointe) as well as tights in a tote bag, alongside a notebook and tablet. She was buzzing with excitement and nervousness, ready to face whatever challenge was given to her. She headed towards the registration office with her head held high, perfect ballet posture, as not to betray her inner monologue.
After registration (the staff are so kind!) Katara was given a map of campus, her personal schedule, and some Republic City University gear. The conservatory was part of the larger university complex in town, full of opportunities and with almost every subject known to man taught there. In addition to her ballet scholarship, Katara had gotten into the physiotherapy and health sciences program, determined to prolong the health of her colleagues and provide expert maintenance for dancers.
There was some time before her class, so she tried to make herself familiar with campus, walking among buildings with one goal - the gym and dance studios. Making mental notes of which buildings her health sciences classes were in, she ambled through the courtyard, enjoying the fall breeze.
Making her way into the campus dance studios, Katara was stunned. She had attended her fair share of smaller dance studios, but nothing this impressive and well-maintained. Large mirrors, solid barres lining the walls, and state-of-the-art speaker systems were in every studio. Theater students, modern dancers, and ballerinas occupied studios according to the schedules on the door. It made Katara’s heart sing.
As she ambled through the halls, she stopped to see a solo performer in a small studio. An impressive bun sat atop her head, and she looked too muscular to only practice ballet. She held a phenomenal penché as the instructor gently, manually corrected her form. Although Katara was used to receiving corrections here and there, they were usually verbal. She hadn’t been corrected in this way since she was younger. As the dancer left the form to turn towards the hall window, Katara was surprised to see eyes that looked like they were boring into her. Yet, there was a glassiness she had never seen before in another dancer’s eyes. As the girl moved to arabesque on her other leg, jade beads made what felt like direct contact with Katara’s eyes through the window. Fascinating… As the dancer took a break, leaning against the wood barre and taking a sip of water, the instructor verbally explained the next set of steps as she modeled them, leading the glassy-eyed dancer to use her hands and observe the position of her feet, legs, and arms. Katara was amazed, but had to peel her eyes away from the scene. She had been so fascinated, she realized she hadn’t even looked at her schedule properly, too fascinated with the dance teachings.
A simple medley of piano and violin boomed through the speakers of the conservatory, Katara’s first ballet class of the academic year. A simple combination of pliés, developpés, and battements to warm up the lower body before floor work. Although she wanted to cement her role as the new starlet of the conservatory, focusing solely on her technique, Katara couldn’t help but gaze in the mirror at her new classmates. A trio of very serious-looking Fire Nation girls stood closer than expected to each other, perfectly spaced as to not whack each other with their legs. They seem to be friends, she mused to herself. In another corner, the cloudy-eyed Earth Kingdom girl from earlier performed on her own, the barre empty around her. Her moves where somehow both careless and precise, oozing confidence and years of practice. Katara made a mental note to try and strike up a conversation with her after class ended.
After finishing their warm-up, the dancers moved to the center of the room. The instructor demonstrated a series of leaps - tombé, pas de bourré, jeté, grand jeté. A classic combination - hadn’t I auditioned already? Or are they taking it easy on me? Katara lobbed a theoretical stone in the reflective pool of her thoughts, letting the insecurity break away. She knew she deserved to be here, and besides, confidence was easy to fake.
The girls performed the combination diagonally across the room to maximize the space the room could offer. First, the Fire Nation girl who stood at the center during the barre portion. Her moves were sharp and practiced, landing softly but hitting all the poses with a fascinating severity. Next, her friend in pink, bounding through the series with impressive height and with phenomenal flexibility. After her, a girl who seemed rather bored to be here, although her stunning technique implied years of dedicated practice. The Earth Kingdom girl went next, harsh landings but impressive leaps nonetheless. Katara felt her heart beat faster as each girl completed her first go and lined up behind her, expectant eyes awaiting her solo. With a deep breath and a flourish of the hand, Katara leapt with a practiced confidence, making sure to hit the shapes she envisioned for herself.
“You seem quite toned for a dancer,” Katara said to the Earth Nation girl as technique class was dismissed. Although her face turned towards her with a large grin, there were no pupils to meet Katara’s. “Thank you! I eat a lot of protein. The name’s Toph,” she stuck her hand out to meet Katara’s in a warm handshake. “I haven’t heard your voice before, and I was hearing whispers of a new student joining our cohort.”
Katara smiled politely. “Sounds like me. I’m Katara, from the Southern Water Tribe.”
Toph nodded as if she had known. “You land quite softly, and I can tell you have very fluid motions.” Waving a hand in front of her eyes, she continued. “I was born blind, but I’ve always had a fondness for ballet. Being able to hear the movement over the music was my favorite part of the dull bougie outings my parents would take me on.” Katara hummed in agreement, although she couldn’t relate as directly. “I prefer to dance barefoot to feel the vibrations. It helps me see better, in a way.”
“That’s so cool,” Katara mused. “Your technique is marvelous. Have you felt a difference training on vinyl versus hardwood?”
Toph grinned, a wicked smile at home on her features. “Yeah, I prefer hardwood for turns, although it’s easier to judge the pressure needed through vinyl.” Katara hummed, utterly fascinated with her newest classmate.
Katara made her way through the cobbled streets of Republic City, the thrum of excitement and newness masking any exhaustion she could have felt. As she made her way up the stairs to her brother’s apartment, she was relieved to have some respite from all the performing of the day. She had decided to room with her brother close to campus, a convenient and easy arrangement for the both of them. Sokka was in his third year of engineering at RCU, his passion since he was a kid. Always tinkering, sketching, and inventing, their father always swelled with pride seeing his son follow in his footsteps.
Katara took a deep breath upon arriving in the apartment. They had brought some SWT decor with them, furs and pelts along the couches and floor, warrior masks adorning the walls, just to remind them of home. Sokka, seated at the dining table, turned to his sister, grinning at her. “So? How was your first day?”
“Absolutely incredible,” Katara sighed, tossing her bag on the floor and sinking into a chair across from her brother. “Everyone was so kind, so talented, and so smart.”
Sokka smiled and put his pencils down, pushing his sketches to the side. There was always some new project, new invention he was mulling over. If it wasn’t papers strewn across the table, it was models or replicas of his inventions, prototypes to make sure they worked before iterating and refining.
“Sounds about right for the best university in the world,” Sokka mused, pushing his chair back and drawing his arms over his chest. Katara sighed dreamily, cradling her cheek in her hand and staring off into space.
“Is this how you felt when you started here too?”
Sokka shrugged, although his bright smile betrayed him. “The excitement? For sure, although I think I was a little more skeptical of my classmates than you.”
Katara laughed to herself. “A critical eye is always important for invention,” she mused aloud, her brother chuckling along with her.
That evening, Katara drew a bath, adding some epsom salt to the hot water to ease her muscles and psyche after a long day. As she dipped into the hot water, Katara sighed, utterly satisfied with her new step in the direction of the rest of her life.