Chapter Text
Aang sighed as he looked over the bay towards the city before him. It was almost hard to believe just how quickly Cranefish Town grew into the sprawling city across the bay. With his bare feet resting against the stone, Aang could feel the rhythm of construction spreading through the island. He could reshape stone and soil almost without thinking now, but that didn't make him a carpenter. Or a mason. Or an architect. Building this place had taught him how little bending alone could accomplish.
His friends had contributed coin, labor, contacts-anything they could-and Aang was grateful for every bit of it. Every day, the blue and white spire towered higher and higher over the island. And he couldn’t wait until he could call it home.
Footsteps brought him out of his reverie, and he turned to see Katara padding up to him. He smiled at her, but he was sure it didn’t reach his eyes. Things had been rather...he struggled to put a word to it. Strained? Tense? He thought to himself. Half of the time he wondered if it was just in his head and he was tired from his travels. He wasn’t entirely sure, and he’d hoped with time they could sort things out. He couldn’t really imagine spending his life with anyone but her.
“Hey Katara,” he said amiably, nodding to her as he stood up and stretched. She smiled softly back at him, walking to stand next to him on his cliff.
“Hey Aang,” she replied, looking at him out of the corner of her eyes before looking out over the bay. “The island is coming along really nicely,” she stated, eyes shining with pride.
Aang nodded, “Yeah. I couldn’t have done it without your guys’ help.” he slipped his fingers between hers and she laced them together. “Bu-u-u-t I suspect that isn’t exactly why you came out here, even if it’s an easy trip for a Master Waterbender,” he teased lightly, squeezing her hand gently.
Katara let out a little huff, “You’ve gotten scarily good at reading people, you know.”
Aang couldn’t help but puff his chest lightly, “I am the Avatar; I’d hope I can read people well to do my job.”
Now Katara let out a light “Ha!” and nudged him, “Who are you and what’ve you done with the twelve year old boy who just wanted to have fun?”
Aang let out a mock gasp, “Just because I’m learning how to be a proper Avatar during peacetime doesn’t mean I LIKE it! I hate to say it, but at least during the war there was a clear destination. Now it’s just…” he gestured with his hand towards the bay, “Talking and more talking. I feel like I can’t make one person happy without making another upset!”
Katara gave him a sympathetic look, “I believe in you. If you ever need advice, you know we’re all here to help.”
Aang smiled. He really was lucky to have them. “Thanks, Katara. But seriously, I can tell something is wrong. What’s up? You tell me I can come to you for any problem, but you can talk to me too, you know.”
Katara sighed, turning back towards the bay again. She seemed to take a moment (or was it a lifetime?) to answer. “Sokka and I are heading back to the South soon,” she murmured.
Aang nodded, distracted by the sounds of laborers shouting somewhere from the island, the words indistinct but ever present. The Water Tribe siblings heading back wasn't a surprise. Tensions with the North had kept pulling Katara and Sokka home for months, and Aang had mediated enough arguments to understand why.
“And I know how busy you’ve been, going to each temple, and finding relics and restoring things…” Katara went on, looking almost nervous. “And I’ve been so honored to help with that. I know how hard it’s been for you; even if I can never really understand your loss. But Sokka and I loved helping you with this project…but.”
Aang sighed. There it was. He chanced a glance at her, and almost wished he hadn’t. Her ocean blue eyes were glistening as though they were made of water. “Katara,” he started but she shook her head, cutting him off.
“I just…” She shrugged. “Seeing you work on the island, and your temples kind of made me want to help the Southern Water Tribe in the same way. And I can’t be away from home for so long if Sokka and I are gonna follow in Dad’s footsteps and lead it. And I want to start teaching kids too; not just how to heal but how to fight too. I've been in talks with Pakku and Malina about setting up a training area somewhere in the South.”
Aang couldn't help but smile at that. "It's good that you're spending more time with her." he said.
Katara nodded. "I may have been a bit harsh with her at the start but..." she shrugged, "I kind of like having her around. Things feel...normal with her around. It'll always be kind of weird, but Dad's really happy with her so..." Her voice trailed off.
Heart aching, he took both her hands and turned toward her. “I’d be happy to be there every step of the way,” he insisted, trying not to let the desperation creep into his voice.
From the look Katara gave him, he knew he probably failed in that department. He sighed heavily. “And what about when the Acolytes need you?” she asked, not unkindly.
Aang shrugged, “Cepla and Tashi know what they’re doing. I trust them.”
Katara hummed. “And what if there’s a crisis in the city?”
Aang countered, “Muchen-”
“You've only just met him.” Katara reasoned. “And he doesn't exactly seem like the most personable type.”
"I'm sure he's just aloof," Aang chuckled with her. Though Katara wasn’t wrong; the Earthbender was hard to read at the best of times.
He looked at her, serious now. “You’d be great at anything you put your mind to!” he kept going, as if the words were water pouring from a leaf into a small pool, “The teaching, rebuilding, you could make the Southern Water Tribe into something even greater than it was before and…” he blinked. “And you didn’t mention us in that future.” he whispered, not looking at her. “You thought this all through didn’t you?” He tried so hard not to sound hurt but it felt like his heart had cracked in half and he knew it bled into his voice.
Her voice trembled slightly as she replied, “Yes.” She nodded. “Sokka and I talked a lot about it; not about this,” she added quickly, causing them both to chuckle despite the situation, “but about what going home means. And I thought a lot about this. About us.” She cleared her throat before continuing, “And I love you Aang,” she reached up to cup his face in her hand, and Aang leaned into it before he could stop himself. “But I think we both have been feeling that pull towards our homes for some time now.”
Aang rested his hand over hers, kissing her palm gently, “I know, I know. ” he sighed. “I just…” he paused, trying to think of what to say and only settling on, “I guess if I just ignored it maybe it would go away?” it was a weak excuse, even to his own ears.
Katara let out a watery chuckle, “There’s nothing wrong with wanting somewhere to belong, Aang.” She sighed. “But it isn’t just wanting to help Sokka rebuild the Southern Water Tribe as to why…”
Aang closed his eyes. Of course, he thought. This conversation... it was one he’d been dreading. “Kids,” he muttered.
“Yeah.” Katara nodded, looking away now. “I know loving children isn't the same thing as wanting your own. But I’ve seen how you are with kids, Aang. And yet every time I bring it up, you freeze. You won't even tell me what scares you.”
Aang lowered their hands so they rested in between them. “I do love kids. They’re cute. And I love how your eyes sparkle when you help them.” Katara blushed at that. Aang sighed as he continued, “But that doesn't mean I know if I want my own. Especially right now.” His throat tightened. “I’m still figuring out how to be an Avatar now that the world isn’t in danger of falling apart. I have no idea how to be a father.” He huffed. “And we both know the world is going to watch them like a buzzard wasp just waiting to see if they’ll-” he cut himself off from finishing the treacherous thought.
Katara’s voice was gentle, “I’m not asking for kids tomorrow.” She glanced at the bay before continuing, “But. I do want them someday. Once the South is on steadier footing, at least.”
He blinked, confused as to why his vision had gotten blurry. He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palm only to realize his face felt wet. When did I start crying? He wondered.
“I’m sorry-” he whispered, his voice hoarse.
Katara hushed him as she reached up and gently brushed a tear from his cheek. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”
Aang shook his head, “But-”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to kiss him, interrupting his apology. It felt wet, salty, and Aang closed his eyes and held on until Katara was the one who finally pulled away. When they parted they rested their foreheads together, eyes closed. “I know you’ll do amazing things here. You’ve already started with the Acolytes.”
Aang chuckled, though it sounded wobbly even to his own ears, “And you’ll be amazing in the South. They better build a statue of you and Sokka right by the oceanside by the time you’re through with your work.” Katara let out a soft huff of laughter at that.
And then, blinking rapidly as though something were in her eyes, Katara stepped away, but Aang had to ask just one more question. “What happens now?” his words were as soft as the breeze that stirred around them.
Katara’s eyes were kind as she replied, “I think you know the answer, just as much as I do, Aang.”
It sounded so final, and they both knew it. “I’ll write to you.” Aang felt as though he could look into those gem-like eyes for ages, as they still held each other's hands. He felt a bit of comfort as the breeze kicked up around them, his orange cloak billowing around his legs. “Whenever I’m able to.”
Katara took a step back, and their hands let go as she did. Her eyes looked like two sapphires in a river. “And I’ll read every letter you send.”
With that, she turned and walked away. He couldn’t help but notice the way her shoulders silently shook. Just slightly. But enough for him to want to reach his arm out and call her back. But he stood still. And not once did she look back. Aang watched as one of the people he thought would be by his side always got smaller and smaller, until the foliage of his island swallowed her completely, hiding her from view.
The breeze tugged at Aang's cloak. Far below, the bay kept moving against the rocks. Beneath his bare feet, the island stayed exactly where it was. Somewhere below him, hammers struck iron. He jumped as the blare of a ship horn sounded, and he whirled around to see a large ship with a pitch black hull slowly enter the bay.
The work went on. The world still moved forward. He was surrounded by laborers, architects, benders and nonbenders, by wind, by sea, by noise and stone and warmth.
And yet despite the world turning around him, Aang had never in his life felt so terribly alone.