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Summary
The sound of the retreat horn pulls him out of the water bender's eyes and slams him back down on the ice just in time to see them glaze over with panic. “It’s the retreat horn,” he explains, but his voice makes the water bender flinch. “Take the sergeant and tie him up. Don’t put anything over his hands because he’ll be able to burn through it. We won’t come back for him.”
That’s all he has time to say before Minho yanks him away. He’s halfway down the street, close to wheezing from how exhausted he is, but he skids to a halt as the water bender’s voice echoes in his ears.
“Wait!” they shout. “Who are you?”
The water bender is looking into Chan’s soul; he’s almost positive. He feels his soul trying to claw out of his chest; he feels it begging to be set free so it can lie at the feet of these all-consuming eyes. There is nothing he wants to do more than let it happen, but Minho is tugging at his arm, and the ship’s horn is still blazing, and Chan has to do what he always does when his feelings get too big for his body.
Shove them down.
“I’m nobody,” Chan calls as Minho drags him away, and if a muttered "thank you" echoes after him, he regrets not turning around to catch it.