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The family had finished eating. It was one of those rare days when everyone was together, spending time as a family—perhaps the last for now, as Bumi would soon be joining to the united forces. Dinner had been somewhat tense, though, due to Kya's strangely withdrawn behavior and Bumi's odd demeanor. The waterbender stared intently at her almost untouched plate. Her older brother leaned closer, whispering something their parents couldn't hear, but they did see it make her tense up and grip her silverware tightly.
It's just teenage stuff, Aang and Katara thought, deciding not to press her to explain what was going on in her head.
As everyone was getting ready to go to their rooms to rest, Kya spoke. "Wait!" she exclaimed, but her voice quickly dropped as she continued, revealing her nervousness. "There's something I'd like to talk to everyone about."
Her parents exchanged confused glances, wondering if each other knew what she was about to tell them. Bumi seemed impassive, while Tenzin looked on curiously.
Kya swallowed hard. "I've wanted to tell you this for a while now. But I haven't had the courage..." She looked at her older brother. "Bumi gave it to me, and I want to use it before I regret it."
She hugged herself. "Ever since I was little, I felt there was something strange about me, something that made me different from everyone else. But I didn't find out what it was until much later."
Her gaze seemed lost as she spoke, her eyes clouding over with what would soon become tears. "I... I..."
Bumi stepped forward and put his arms around her, murmuring soft words of encouragement. Kya clung to her older brother's arms, just like when she was a child.
"Do you want me to tell them?" Bumi asked his sister, who quickly shook her head as she tried to regain her composure. She wiped the tears from her eyes and stepped away from the non-bender.
This was her announcement, this was her battle against the unreasonable fear of rejection.
She took a moment to breathe and spoke in a trembling voice. "I like women." The room fell silent, and Kya closed her eyes, wanting to avoid the look of disgust that was surely reflected on her parents' faces. She heard footsteps; Bumi had left. But before she could think about that, other arms wrapped around her, and when she opened her eyes, she knew whose they were by the blue arrow tattoos etched into his skin.
Aang hugged her tightly to his chest, tears streaming down his face as well. He was smiling. "It seems we have something else in common."
She gasped for breath, processing those words, and finally collapsed into her father's arms, sobbing. She felt two hands on her back and, trembling, turned to look at her brothers. Bumi seemed proud, his eyes glistening with emotion. Tenzin was still young, but old enough to understand what was happening, and he gazed at her with happiness.
But someone was missing. Kya's gaze swept the room until it finally found her mother, in the same spot where she had been since she had decided to speak. She wasn't looking at her; instead, her attention was fixed on the floor, her brow furrowed. And she felt her heart shatter into tiny pieces.
"Why have you been ignoring Kya?" Aang asked as a greeting, suddenly appearing in the room. He startled Katara, who was sitting on the bed combing her hair.
"I thought you were staying later for the council meeting," the waterbender said, dodging her husband's question.
"It was canceled," he admitted. Sitting down beside her, he gently took the bone comb from her and gestured for her to turn over. Since the beginning of their marriage, they had made it a habit for him to comb her hair before bed. "You still haven't answered my question."
"I'm not ignoring her."
"Don't lie, Katara." He knew her well enough to tell from the change in her tone that she wasn't telling the truth. "You haven't spoken to her since she opened up to us at dinner three nights ago."
The only sound in the room was the gentle rustle of a comb through the waterbender's hair, delicately untangling it. Aang wished he could be standing in front of her to see his wife's expression as they spoke.
"It's complicated," she admitted quietly. The airbender said nothing, and she took that as a sign to continue. "This is a rather strange topic for me, you know. The water tribes are very conservative about this. Even in the southern water tribe, but it is much frowned upon in the northern water tribe."
"They're also conservative about whether women should be waterbenders masters, and you've fought hard against that to prove them wrong," Aang questioned. "What's different about this?"
Katara sighed. "I... I don't know... this is how I was raised, Aang. I was taught that the traditional family is a man and a woman. And that anything different goes against tradition and is considered a private matter, something to be shared only with the family."
The man thought for a moment before finally speaking. "The air nomads taught me that we shouldn't hide those we love, regardless of their gender."
"I thought they were against earthly ties," the waterbender whispered.
"We were expected to keep earthly ties to a minimum," Aang explained. "But love is hard to avoid; we can't control how we feel, or who we feel that way about. We have to accept differences and welcome everyone equally."
"It's like trying to trap air in a closet; no matter what you do, it will escape sooner or later. You can't hide it, you learn to live with it." The airbender placed the comb beside the bed and gently arranged his wife's hair with his hand. He wasn't going to press her for an answer now. "There, shall we go to sleep?"
Katara walked through the temple corridors, lost in thought. She remembered the words Aang had spoken to her the night before. She decided to go to the island's beach to clear her mind, which was currently embroiled in an internal war.
The water always calmed her, so she couldn't help but sigh when she slipped off her shoes and the waves crashing against the shore wet her feet. She practiced the basic waterbending movements until a voice called to her.
"Mom."
She would recognize that voice anywhere. The water she had been controlling moments before returned to its original source. She turned to see her daughter. Kya wasn't looking into her eyes, but rather at the sand beneath them, yet Katara still noticed the redness in her eyes. It completely shattered her. No mother liked to see her children suffer; it hurt more when you know very well that you are the one responsible for that pain.
"Yes?" she asked gently, taking a few steps toward her. Stopping when Kya hugged herself tightly, her body trembling uncontrollably. "Sweetie..."
Tears welled up once more in the little waterbender's eyes. "Do you hate me?"
She froze at the question, opening her mouth ready to deny it, but Kya wouldn't let her. "I-I'm sorry if I disappointed you, M-Mom... I'm really s-sorry... I'm a w-weirdo..."
"T-There won't be any more waterbenders from the south because of me and—"
"Kya," Katara immediately stopped her daughter, her hands gripping her shoulders, forcing her to look at her. "Don't ever say that again."
"I love you, that won't change for anything in the world," she affirmed, her voice breaking. She too had begun to cry. "Please don't ever call yourself that again."
"I'm not disappointed that you like girls. I don't care whether you have children or not. We're not the last waterbenders from the south, don't you rembeber Sika and Sura? They are too," she reminded her gently. "And even if they weren't, children will still be born with our ability. My parents couldn't bend water, but I can."
"S-So... why have you been ignoring me?" The same question Aang had asked, one she hadn't been prepared to answer when he asked it. But now she was.
"It wasn't my intention," she admitted. Thanks to her conversation with her husband, her mind was clearer. "This isn't something that's talked about much among the Water Tribes. So I didn't really know how to react."
"But I don't care that you like girls, you're my daughter, and I'll always love and support you." She hugs her tightly. Kya stiffens for just a few seconds before finally melting into her mother's arms. "You're perfect just the way you are. Forgive me for making you feel this way."
"Don't apologize, Mom," she whispers in response. Katara's hand gently strokes her head, humming the same song she used to sing to calm her when she was little. "I love you."
"I love you too, my little penguin."