Archive of Our Own

“Your father is so proud, Tenzin,” said Katara, placing her hand on his shoulder. “And so am I.” She beamed at him, then walked down the hall. He heard her rapping on Kya’s bedroom door.

Tenzin sighed, running a hand through his thick black hair. Perfecting the vertical tailspin took a lot of energy, and all he wanted right now was to sleep until the next Sozin’s Comet. But Aang had rushed home from a negotiation an hour away just to see Tenzin, and if anyone knew how valuable his time was, it was his family.

He began setting the table, and was joined by a very grumpy Kya. Her long brown hair was sticking out everywhere, as if she’d just woken up. After haphazardly setting cups on the table, she set a carafe of lychee juice down, some of it sloshing onto the table.

“Are you going to clean that?” Tenzin asked.

Kya fixed him with a glassy red stare and waterbent the juice back into the carafe.

Tenzin wrinkled his nose. “Did you seriously smoke opium-weed right before Dad comes home?”

She scoffed. “I didn’t know he was coming. I didn’t know you were spending all day masterbendng, my bad.”

“Masterbending?” came Bumi’s voice from the kitchen entryway. “So that’s where all my magazines have gone.”

Tenzin flushed as Bumi came in and sat at the table. “We’re not done setting up.”

Bumi put his boot-clad feet on the tabletop and interlocked his fingers behind his head. “I’m not stopping you.”

“Gross, Bumi,” said Kya, pushing his feet off the table. “Help us.”

“Can’t,” said Bumi, twirling a silver fork between his thumb and forefinger. “Basic training really kicked my ass today.”

Kya sighed, tossing a small stack of cloth napkins into the center of the table. “Whatever, it’s done now.”

“Uh, no, it’s not.” Tenzin raised an eyebrow. His older siblings just stared at him blankly. He snatched up the napkins and begin folding them into origami turtle ducks like his father had taught him when he was young.

“I’d help and all, but I don’t know how,” Kya said through a yawn, leaning against the countertop.

“Oh, no worries. Wouldn’t want you to overtax yourself on my behalf,” spat Tenzin, fluffing the wings of his first duck.

“So, little bro. You’re gonna get all tatted up, huh?” Bumi’s eyes gleamed. “Gonna get some pretty blue arrows so you can look just like Dad?”

“That’s the idea,” sighed Tenzin.

Kya burst out laughing. “Oh my god! You’re going to be bald!”

Tenzin felt his cheeks color. “So what?”

Bumi turned to Kya. “He doesn’t know,” he stage-whispered.

Tenzin glared at them.

“I don’t know how to put this delicately,” said Kya with a fake look of concern. “But you have what is medically known as … an oddly shaped head. Hair is the only cure! Without it…” she trailed off, looking worriedly at Bumi.

“You’ll stay ugly forever,” Bumi said somberly.

Tenzin put his turtle duck down and marched out of the room, Bumi and Kya’s laughs echoing behind him. “Take a joke, Tenzin,” he heard Kya call after him as he stormed into his room and shut the door.

He flopped down onto his Air Nomad-style cot, huffing angrily. No matter what he did, Bumi and Kya always found some way to treat him like a joke. His stoner, slacker older siblings were the real losers, but knowing this didn’t help much when they were looking down their noses at him for actually respecting their parents and their legacy.

Aang and Katara had originally had high expectations for all of their children, but somewhere along the way Bumi and Kya had become oblivious to those pressures.

Bumi only joined the United Forces last year because he was kidnapped by some recently recruited friends of his. They threw him into a potato sack and took him to the training fort where he stayed for weeks. Bumi ended up proving to be a very good strategist, putting his superior intelligence to use for once in his life. Everyone thought Aang was responsible for bribing Bumi’s friends to take him, but Aang vehemently denied it, saying that though he supports the armed forces, as the Avatar and leader of the United Nations, he is primarily anti-combat as an Air Nomad. No one in the family could deny the positive effect it had on Bumi, though—most notably, keeping him out of trouble. Bumi was notorious in Republic City during his teenage years for his uncouth behavior and apparent lack of discipline. He felt that he was smarter than his teachers, and ditched school a lot. Their parents ignored the critics, saying that their uncle Sokka always had a strong personality as well, and ended up as a highly influential member of society. Tenzin kind of doubted that Bumi deserved the comparison. Sokka was leading battles at fifteen; Bumi, now twenty-one, couldn’t even find his way home from the bar most nights.

Kya, on the other hand, had seemed promising from the start. She began water bending at a very young age, and was always at the top of her classes in combat and healing. She trained with Katara every day, throwing in the occasional snow ball fight for fun. But when she became a teenager, she decided that standardized water bending lessons were oppressive to her creativity, and that she would be self-taught moving forward. Katara had allowed it, but it was clear to Tenzin that her feelings were crushed. Kya was so afraid of living in their mother’s shadow that she started shutting her out completely. Kya was still a good fighter, but her passion for bending was gone. She currently attended Republic City University majoring in Hydroponic Biology. Tenzin was pretty sure she would have flunked out by now if everyone at the school didn’t worship their parents.

Tenzin was the only one who actually cared what Aang and Katara thought about him. He had the nagging suspicion that if either Bumi or Kya had been an airbender, he might never have been conceived. But it didn't matter. They weren’t. He was chosen by the spirits to carry on his father’s legacy, and to share some of the weight the Fire Nation had placed on Aang when they made him the last airbender. Failure was not an option.

Tenzin thought his earliest memory might be the day he first bent air. He was three years old, trying to keep up with Bumi and Kya as they played tag in the garden. Seven-year-old Kya jumped out of the way of Bumi’s reaching arm, and her elbow connected with Tenzin’s tiny shoulder. As he started to fall back, Tenzin closed his eyes and threw his arms up, knowing he was about to land on a thousand tiny sharp rocks. But then, he didn’t. Opening his eyes, he realized there was a ball of air keeping him a float.

“Daddy?” he croaked, looking around. Then he heard someone scream, and fell to the ground in surprise, cutting himself on the rocks after all.

The scream, as it turned out, was Katara’s delighted exclamation. Aang had been in the bath tub, and ran out with in nothing but a robe as Katara healed Tenzin’s tiny scrapes, a huge smile on her face. Katara asked Tenzin to show Daddy what he could do, but Tenzin felt horribly shy all of a sudden.

“It’s okay,” Aang said, beaming. “We have plenty of time.” He ruffled Tenzin’s hair and kissed him on the cheek.

Bumi and Kya were yelling, trying to get their parents’ attention, but Katara silenced them with a fierce look and returned her attention back to Tenzin, whose scrapes didn’t hurt at all anymore. “We’re so proud of you.”

Now, at sixteen, Tenzin remembered how pleased with himself he had been. He’d earned his parents’ pride without even trying. Over the years, it always seemed to come easier to him than to his siblings. He had no problem staying with the airbending program his dad started him on years ago. He did well in school, always completing his assignments on time and never getting into trouble with his teachers. He just didn’t understand why his siblings had to make it so hard for themselves. Everyone in Republic City had the utmost respect for Aang and Katara, except for two of their three children. It made Tenzin sick. He figured they probably just wanted attention, which was never a problem for Tenzin. If he stuck to the rules and avoided conflict, he could usually avoid attention. Which was just how he liked it.

Someone rapped loudly on his bedroom door. “Dad’s here,” came Kya’s accusing voice through the door. He heard her walk away. He sighed and stepped out into the hall.

He heard several different voices mingling together in the dining room. He recognized Uncle Sokka’s voice asking Katara if she had any seaweed schnapps, which probably meant Aunt Suki was here too.

Tenzin groaned. He loved his aunt and uncle and was normally quite happy to see them. But under the circumstances, it was awkward.

He stepped into the dining room tentatively. All at once his parents, aunt, and uncle began clapping and cheering. Bumi was clapping slowly, a sarcastic half-smile on his face, and Kya rolled her eyes, her arms crossed.

Tenzin smiled, but it felt more like a grimace. He knew his family meant well, but seriously? Clapping?

Aang stood at the end of the dining room table, his arms outstretched. “Son,” he said, his eyes misty. “Come here.”

“Hey, Dad,” Tenzin said, embarrassed by how emotional he was starting to feel. He walked over and hugged Aang tightly.

When they broke the embrace, Aang held Tenzin by the shoulders at arms length. “Today the world gained a new airbending master, and a new airbending technique.” Aang spoke to the room, still looking at Tenzin. “Not only did my son master the thirty-sixth tier of air bending today, he also perfected a technique of his own creation—the vertical tailspin. In the Air Nomad tradition, one must either perform all thirty-six tiers, or perform thirty-two tiers and invent an air bending technique.” He dropped Tenzin’s shoulders and turned to the group seated around the table. “That is how I mastered airbending, with the invention of the air scooter. But Tenzin has gone above and beyond the requirements for mastery, and for that, it is a great honor to call him my son.” Aang bowed and took his seat.

Tenzin swallowed. That was a bit… formal, even for his father. But everyone clapped, excluding Bumi and Kya, who exchanged a disturbed look. “Thanks, Dad,” said Tenzin, taking the empty seat next to Aang.

He hoped that if he stuffed his face continuously, he wouldn’t be expected to talk. Unfortunately, that plan didn’t work.

“So, when do we get to see the vertical tailspin?” asked Uncle Sokka eagerly, smiling at him across the table.

Tenzin’s mouth was full of green noodles. He chewed with effort, then swallowed. “Well, it can only be done when it’s light out. That’s why it took a while to perfect.”

“What is it, exactly?” Aunt Suki asked, twirling noodles around her fork.

“It’s more of a stylistic maneuver than a functional one,” Tenzin admitted.

“Like a trick?” Suki asked.

“Yes, a bit. I get pretty high up on my glider and then take it off and drop it to the ground. Then I do a headfirst downward spin, leaving enough time for my glider to catch me a couple of inches from the ground. I tried it at night once, but—” he cringed, remembering his broken nose that took a while for Katara to heal—“it was a little dangerous.”

“The vertical tailspin is super impressive,” said Bumi, a serious expression on his face. “It’s very manly and virile.”

“We’re hoping that if Tenzin decides to take a break from the monk lifestyle, he’ll seriously consider joining the ballet,” Kya added.

No one laughed.

“Excuse me,” Tenzin said through gritted teeth. He pushed his chair away from the table, stood up, and walked down the hall to the restroom. He sat on the edge of the bathtub, fuming. It wasn’t his fault people were impressed with him. Kya and Bumi were just bitter. They hated seeing people happy. But he was already feeling weird from all the attention, and their negativity made sitting at that dinner table feel impossible.

But it had to be done. He couldn’t disappoint his parents. He composed himself and headed back to the dining room.

“Are you okay?” Katara whispered when he sat down. Everyone pretended not to listen.

Tenzin gave her a defensive look. “I just had to use the bathroom.”

“Okay,” said Katara sounding unconvinced. “So, Tenzin,” she continued at full volume, “we’ve already begin the preparations for your anointment ceremony. It’ll be the first that the air acolytes have ever seen, so they’re very excited to get the temple ready. And of course, all of our friends in Republic City will be invited.”

Tenzin repressed a sigh. Since his parents learned he was an airbender thirteen years ago, they had often talked about his future anointment ceremony. He must have heard about everyone’s excitement a hundred times. He knew his mother was only trying to be nice, but it made him feel very, very tired.

“Do you guys mind if we talk about something else?” he blurted.

Katara looked taken aback. “Huh?”

“Sorry,” Tenzin said sheepishly. He turned to Aang, who looked concerned. “I’m just exhausted. I woke up early today, and spent hours training.

“Well, you do seem uncharacteristically grumpy,” Katara said, raising an eyebrow. Sokka and Suki exchanged a look, as if they agreed.

Tenzin made a sound of protest.

Kya gave a small, incredulous laugh. “Tenzin’s always grumpy,” she said, as if it was the most obvious thing.

“Second that,” said Bumi, pointing at his sister.

“Seriously, you two need to shut up,” said Tenzin, pressing his fingers to his temples.

“Tenzin!” Katara gasped.

“Katara, it’s okay,” said Aang, smiling gently. “Tenzin, I know you’ve had a long day. We are very proud of you, but you don’t have to talk about it now. There will be plenty of time.”

“Thank you,” said Tenzin, slumping down into his seat.

There was a pregnant pause.

“Well, if we’re done talking about airbending,” Bumi said, cracking his knuckles, “I can tell you all about how I narrowly escaped with my life last night.” He begin an elaborate lie about a bar fight that started when he won a man’s chicken-pig in a pai sho game. Tenzin stuffed more noodles into his mouth, drowning out Bumi’s voice completely, and flying under the radar, just how he liked it.

************

Lin slammed her front door open, dragging her ten-year-old sister into the house by her arm.

“Let go of me!” Su screamed, pushing Lin’s arm. Lin finally released Su, locking the door behind them.

Their mother came storming down the hall. “What the hell is going on?”

“Lin was hurting me!” Su sobbed.

Toph raised her eyebrow at Lin. It didn’t matter that Toph couldn’t see her; Lin always felt caught in the headlights by Toph’s attention.

“I found Su downtown trying to swindle migrant workers out of their savings. She’s been lying about taking night art classes at the library—instead she’s been running around with a group of street urchins and junior con artists, not thinking twice about her own safety, nor how this would affect your standing as Republic City’s Chief of Police,” she spat, glaring at Su. Su shot her a hateful, tear-streaked look.

Toph turned to Su. “Is this true?”

Su wiped her face. “I wasn’t swindling anyone. They were choosing to gamble their money. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“But you told me you were at the library.”

“I’m sorry, Mama. I thought Lin would be mad.” Su looked down at her boots. Lin scoffed.

“Lin isn’t the boss. It was obvious from your heart rate that you were lying; I was just waiting for you to grow a pair and admit it to me. I guess that chance is gone. Now go wash up, Su, it’s your turn to help with dinner.”

Su shot Lin another look, then set off down the hall.

Lin gaped at her mother. “What was that?”

Toph put her hands on her hips. “What?”

“Aren’t you going to tell her to stop? Aren’t you worried, or even surprised?”

“Lin, who exactly do you think I am?” Toph laughed, the sound metallic in Lin’s ears. “By the time I was Su’s age I was sneaking out of my house every night to fight in the arena. I ran away from home at twelve and traveled the world with a bunch of other kids. Can’t say I never conned anyone, either. So I’m not going to punish Su. That would make me a hypocrite. She’s in no more danger than I ever was.”

“No more danger than you?” Lin exploded. “Are you kidding me? I’ve grown up hearing those stories! You’re all lucky to be alive…” she trailed off.

“Luck had nothing to do with it, sweet cheeks.” Toph smiled crookedly, cracking her knuckles. “I was rolling with the toughest crew around. Even Sokka and Suki didn’t need our protection that much. Su’s fine. Not the best bender her age, but she can hold her own.”

Lin closed her eyes, a vein in her temple beginning to throb. Sixteen years old and she was already starting to get migraines. If only she’d inherited her mother’s ‘fuck it all’ attitude, she’d probably be a lot happier. That was the strangest part about growing up with one parent—her differences from Toph felt as if they came from nowhere. She didn’t know if she was the way she was because of Toph or in spite of her. And she doubted her mother reflected on it at all, so why should Lin?

“Right. You’re the boss, Chief,” Lin said through gritted teeth, trying to inject as much sarcasm as she could.

“I know,” Toph said in a sing-song voice. “Now wash up and get ready to choke down whatever monstrosity Su decides to make. At least her bending is better than her cooking.”

*******

Lin swirled quickly to her left, dodging a trajectory of metal darts, and slid to the ground on her knees while transforming the darts into a metal boomerang that burst forth and hit her opponent’s helmet, knocking her to the ground before returning to Lin’s hand and transforming into a wrist shield. She steadied herself for Tai’s counter-attack.

Tai performed the hand signal for surrender, and took off her helmet, breathing hard as the whistle sounded. Her boyfriend LiShan ran up to her, checking to see if she was okay, but she waved him away. Lin raised her eyebrow. That guy couldn’t metal bend a needle. She wondered what tough-as-rocks Tai saw in him.

Lin took off her helmet and shook out her cropped black hair, a small smile on her lips.

“Excellent work, Lin!” said her instructor, The Dark One. “You beat your old time by twenty-three seconds!”

Lin beamed. Since rising to the top of the class in her age group at Bei Fong Metal Bending Academy, the only person she had to try to beat was herself. Last time she had gone up against Tai, it took a little longer, but she was getting better at utilizing her opponents’ weaknesses. In Tai’s case, she had a tendency to crouch low, forgetting to cover her head. After her mother’s dismissal last night, it felt good to release some energy.

Lin slumped into one of the spectator seats that lined the practice field. The Dark One sat in the seat next to her. The Dark One was a little bit older than Toph, but had been part of her very first group of students when she founded the Academy. Apparently he had been a miserable kid, with delusions of grandeur and a solid hatred of anything cheerful. When Lin began taking the Pee Wee class at the age of ten, she thought for sure she had fallen in love with him, but she slowly realized that that was just the feeling she got after being complemented for the first time in her life. Toph certainly never said anything positive about her bending, and until that first day of Metal Bending Academy when she dominated all the other children, she’d assumed she wasn’t very good. The Dark One still had a flair for the dramatic, but he had been leading classes at the academy since Toph became Chief, and working with children had softened him considerably. Lin found it ironic—they could manipulate even the hardest steel, but she and Su were unable to soften their mother’s heart.

“If it were up to me I would graduate you already,” said the Dark One, watching as LiShan and Fumina, a girl who was also towards the bottom of the class, took their positions on the field. “You sure you want to stay here for another year and a half until you’re eighteen? You could get out into the world now.”

Lin bit her lip. And then what? There was no way they would let her into law enforcement at sixteen, not even with Toph’s influence, which Lin doubted she would utilize. In her mother’s day, a thirteen-year-old could found an academy; these days it was much harder to be taken seriously. She could go to university, but her mom would probably laugh at the idea, and even she had to admit it lacked appeal. Lin was whip-smart, but no one would ever catch her with her nose in a book and her head in the clouds. She had no use for aimless learning.

“I know I’m the top of the class, Sifu Dark One, but I’m not the best I can be. Plus, I’d miss you guys too much.”

“I know you’ll come back and visit even after you become a Republic City legend,” the Dark One said.

Lin scoffed.

“So, uh, I invited your mom to come by and watch a match, but I guess she’s been busy.” He knitted his brows. “She hasn’t watched Su at all yet.”

“Are you surprised?” said Lin.

“Kind of. She used to at least return my letters.” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “I mean, it is her school, after all.”

Lin narrowed her eyes. “I live with her and can barely get her attention, so I don’t know what to tell you.”

The Dark One smiled uncomfortably. “I’m sure she’s very busy. With the city growing at this rate, crime has been on the rise.”

“Yeah, and more children are becoming petty criminals,” Lin snarled.

“Oh yeah, that’s a big problem,” said the Dark One obliviously. “That’s why schools like this are so important. They keep young people active and off the streets.”

“Yeah,” said Lin sadly. “That’s good.”

********
Tenzin woke up in a cold sweat early the next morning from a nightmare where he had suddenly lost his ability to bend, and had been unable to get back to sleep for an hour. When he woke up again, it was noon. His father had moved the negotiations to Republic City Hall and was meeting with the heads of neighboring cities. His mother was teaching a combat waterbending class at the rec center and Bumi was at training. Hoping to finally get some time to himself, he pressed his ear to Kya’s door, grimacing when he heard a high-pitched giggle that wasn’t hers. It was bad enough that Kya’s girlfriend was only his age, but it was made worse by the fact that Ari had been one of his biggest tormenters in grade school. She still treated him as an annoyance in his own home, and Tenzin made no secret of his dislike for her.

Unwilling to face either of them, he slipped on his shoes and decided to go the only place he could get some peace and quiet.

Walking down the cobblestone streets of downtown Republic City, Tenzin strolled up to the bright red facade of a teashop, painted with thick golden curls of steam coming out of a teacup and forming the words “The Jasmine Dragon.” He entered through the gold-colored beaded curtain hanging over the door, and saw Uncle Iroh standing behind the counter, handing a customer a tray with a steaming tea kettle and two cups. Iroh wasn’t actually his uncle—he was Fire Lord Zuko’s uncle. But he and his siblings grew up calling him that, and to Tenzin it might as well have been true.

“Master Tenzin!” Uncle Iroh beamed when he spotted him. “I heard about your recent success! Congratulations!”

“Thank you, Uncle Iroh,” said Tenzin, smiling softly. For some reason, when Iroh said it, it lifted some of the weight.

Iroh eyed Tenzin, taking in his bogged-down appearance. “There aren’t any rooftop reservations for two hours. Perhaps you’d like some space to sit and think, without any distractions?”

Tenzin sighed gratefully. “You have no idea. Thank you so much.”

“Of course!” Uncle Iroh took a large kettle off the stove and added a fragrant satchel of oolong, Tenzin’s favorite. He put it on a tray with a couple of ceramic cups and led Tenzin up the small wooden stairs to the private rooftop area. He set the tray down on a low table next to a tatami mat. “If you run out of tea, just come see me.” He winked at Tenzin and shut the door behind him.

Tenzin positioned himself on the tatami. He took in the animal-shaped topiaries that lined the rooftop, fusing together with the ivy that hung from the wooden canopy. He took a deep breath. The soft incense that hung in a marble holder on the wall filled his nose, mixing with the scent of oolong and relaxing him. He could faintly hear the waves of Yue Bay over the hum of the city, washing onto the shores of its beaches and the island Tenzin called home. He began to meditate, stripping the layers of expectation that had been weighing him down.

***********

Lin was walking through downtown Republic City on her way home from the academy, hoping to catch sight of Su, or one of her little urchin friends. She didn’t know why she bothered; it wasn’t like she had any authority over Su. Toph made it perfectly clear that she was unconcerned, and Lin wasn’t going to spend her teenage years trying to be the parent figure for her sister. If Toph didn’t care, Lin didn’t care. It wasn’t her problem. She resolved to wash her hands of it. Still, she kept her eyes peeled for a little girl with black hair and green eyes. Just because.

In the distance she spotted a tall guy in red and yellow Air Nomad clothing. That could only be one of two people. She squinted and saw a thatch of thick black hair on his head. Tenzin.

Suddenly, the desire to vent to someone other than her mother-loving bending instructor hit her like an expertly delivered metal boomerang. She picked up her pace, tripping once over the uneven cobblestones, but Tenzin turned and went inside a shop.

She recognized the deep red facade as belonging to The Jasmine Dragon, Uncle Iroh’s place. She began to run, ignoring the alarmed looks she was getting from passersby. She ducked through the beaded curtain, and looked around. There was a middle-aged couple slurping out of their cups unappealingly in the corner, and an old man reading the Republic City Press while his cup sat cooling across the table, but no Tenzin.

Lin heard a door click shut, and saw Uncle Iroh descending the stairs that went to the private rooftop. His eyes widened when he saw her.

“Lin, what a surprise! It’s been a long time since you’ve come by for tea.”

Lin smiled sheepishly. As she got older, she had become more of a coffee drinker. “Hey Uncle,” she said, giving him a stiff hug. She wasn’t much of a hugger, but like he said, it had been a while. “Uh, is Tenzin here? I thought I saw him come in.”

Iroh shifted his eyes towards the staircase. “Tenzin needed some alone time. I told him I wouldn’t allow any disturbances.”

“So he’s on the roof? Thanks, Unc,” she said, stepping towards the stairs.

Uncle Iroh moved swiftly in front of the first step. “Lin, I don’t think he wants company. Why don’t I pour you a cup of tea instead, and you tell me how your metalbending classes are going?”

“Sounds great. I’ll be down in just a minute,” said Lin, breezing past him and clamoring up the stairs, ignoring Uncle Iroh’s gasp.

She threw the door open, breathless, realizing a little too late that she probably shouldn’t be rude while seeking commiseration. Tenzin was sitting cross-legged on a tatami mat, his back to the door, and he glared over his shoulder, a look of pure annoyance on his face. Lin shrunk back against the door frame. Tenzin caught her eye, and his expression changed to one of relief.

“Lin?” he said, turning his body to face her.

“Uh, hey,” she said awkwardly, closing the door behind her.

“What’s going on?” he asked, his big blue eyes searching her face.

She swallowed, and pulled a tatami mat towards where he was sitting, plunking down with a deliberate lack of grace. “Not much. I saw you heading in here and thought you might want some company.” She grimaced. “Actually, Uncle Iroh said you didn’t. But… I did. I’ll go, if you want.”

“No, stay.” Tenzin reached over to the tray, now on the floor, and poured some oolong tea into his remaining cup. He handed it to her.

“Thanks,” said Lin, extremely grateful he didn’t turn her away. She blew on it, then took a long sip. It wasn’t as good as coffee, but it wasn’t bad.

Tenzin took a sip of his own tea, sprawled out on his mat, his posture very different from the meditative stance Lin had found him in. She hadn’t seen Tenzin since Kya’s twentieth birthday a few months ago, which was the last big family get-together. Kya had ran off with her friends, throwing the whole party into a panic looking for her. When she had returned two hours later, Tenzin was so annoyed he shut himself in his room. Lin had barely talked to him at all, preoccupied with trying to keep Su entertained enough not to run off herself.

“So,” she said, feeling as though she should say something. “How have you been? Anything new?”

Tenzin eyed her skeptically. “You mean you haven’t heard?”

“What?”

“That I mastered airbending? There’s going to be a ceremony after I get my tattoos, and everyone’s invited. My mom said she was telling Toph.”

Lin’s stomach turned with a mix of pride and anger. “Somehow, she neglected to mention that to me.”

“It’s really fine, Lin,” said Tenzin. “I’m actually kind of glad you didn’t know.” He smiled sheepishly.

“Why? That’s a huge accomplishment; I feel like an asshole for not knowing to congratulate you!” She rubbed her temples, squeezing her eyes shut.

Tenzin laughed. “Well, I didn’t see it that way. To be honest, it’s a little overwhelming. Everyone is making such a big deal about it.” He shrugged. “I don’t really enjoy the attention.”

Lin nodded, taking another sip. She related to Tenzin on that aspect. They both followed the rules, kept their noses out of trouble, and generally tried to reflect well on their famous parents. For Tenzin, though, it seemed to backfire—his troublemaking siblings were often ignored while he was showered with public attention. Lin was always impressed by how gracefully he handled it, but maybe it bothered him more than he let on.

“So, what’s on your mind?” he asked gently. “You said you wanted someone to talk to?”

“Oh. That.” Lin sighed. She would rather just talk about Tenzin’s problems and ignore her own, but maybe that wouldn’t help. “It’s my mom. She just… doesn’t care about me.” Lin blew out a puff of air, her long bangs fluttering in front of her face. “Or Su, really.”

She expected Tenzin to protest, but he just took another sip of tea. “What happened?”

“I found Su running around after dark with a bad crowd, and my mom didn’t care. She thinks it’s totally fine because she and your parents could look after themselves when they were kids. She made me feel stupid for caring.” Lin’s face flushed, remembering that feeling.

“Reminds me of my brother and sister,” said Tenzin. “They always make fun of me for caring about anything.”

“At least your parents think you’re great,” said Lin. She didn’t mean for that to come out so bitterly, but it did.

“Yeah,” Tenzin sighed. “They’re so excited that I’ve mastered airbending. Now I can get my tattoos and shoulder the weight of an entire lost nation! Every sixteen-year-old’s dream.”

Lin narrowed her eyes. “I thought you wanted that.”

Tenzin paused for a moment, then shrugged. “I want to be an airbending master. But I don’t want to be the only other one. It’s a lot of pressure.”

“I don’t really have that problem,” Lin admitted. “My mom made sure that everyone who can learn metal bending does. And I’m just one of many.”

“But aren’t you doing extremely well at the academy? I’ve heard you’re the best student there.”

Lin smiled involuntarily, wondering where he’d heard that. It certainly hadn’t been from Toph.

“Yeah, I guess,” she said.

“Then you’re one in a million,” said Tenzin, clinking his cup against hers. Lin beamed in spite of herself. Coming from anyone else, that would have been cheesy, but from Tenzin it felt genuine. They sat together, drinking tea in companionable silence as the sun rose higher into the sky and the city buzzed below them. When Uncle Iroh knocked and told them his reservation was here, they were both surprised by how quickly the time had passed.

“I’ll see you at the ceremony, I guess?” Tenzin asked Lin as they stood out front, preparing to head in opposite directions.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” said Lin, smiling slightly. She turned and headed down the cobblestone road, her foot catching slightly. This time, she didn’t trip, and felt light as air as she hurried home.

**********

When Tenzin stepped through the front door, he was greeted by the smell of fresh sea prune stew and seaweed cookies. His mom usually only made authentic Water Tribe food when Uncle Sokka was over, so Tenzin figured he and Aunt Suki were here for the second night in a row. Strangely, this didn’t bother him.

He walked into the kitchen. Katara stood over the stove, stirring a simmering pot. Bumi was wearing one of her frilly pink aprons, pulling a pan of cookies out of the oven that was built into the stone wall. He set them on the counter, noticing Tenzin. “I made these cookies. You can’t have any.”

Tenzin raised his eyebrow. He had no idea Bumi could bake. Tenzin supposed he had to be good for something.

Katara looked up from the pot. “Hey sweetie,” she said, kissing him on the cheek. “Where have you been all day?”

“Just wandering. Went to Uncle Iroh’s shop for a bit,” said Tenzin.

“How’s he doing? Is he coming to your ceremony?”

“Of course,” said Tenzin. “He’s doing great, as always.”

“Okay guys, the chicken-duck is almost done. Please tell everyone it’s time for dinner.” She looked at Bumi pointedly. He was lifting a seaweed cookie to his mouth, but dropped it before he could take a bite, shaking his hand out to relieve the burn. Katara sighed and bent some water from a cup on the table onto his hand, healing it instantly. “Alright, go.”

Bumi grumbled out of the room, Tenzin following behind him. Bumi was as tall as Tenzin, and—Tenzin thought privately—better looking, having inherited their mother’s Water Tribe features. But he was so childish. Sometimes Tenzin couldn’t believe how much older than him his siblings were. Did Bumi even date? If so, he clearly wasn’t dating anyone impressive enough to bring around the family.

They walked down the hall and into the living room. Aang was sitting on a low bench, his eyes lined from a long day at work. Even tired, he radiated power. Sokka and Suki were lounging in the love seat next to him, each holding a beer bottle. Suki’s had a little knitted covering to keep her hands from getting cold. Kya and Ari were sitting on the floor, laughing up at Sokka, probably following one of his stories. Tenzin was sure Kya had heard them all a million times.

“Dinner’s ready,” said Bumi. “Need a refill, Aunt and Uncle?” He gestured to the beers in their hands.

“I’m good,” said Aunt Suki, wiggling her beer slightly to show how much was still left.

“I could go for another. Thanks, kid,” said Uncle Sokka, stretching and standing up.

Bumi pushed past Tenzin and headed back toward the kitchen. Tenzin found that he didn’t mind too much.

He lead the group back to the dinner table, which had already been set. Tenzin knew he should feel bad that he hadn’t helped, but he just didn’t. He was glad that he had spent so much time at The Jasmine Dragon.

They sat down, Bumi returning with an opened beer for Sokka and one for himself. Katara poured herself some plum wine from a carafe on the table, and poured a minute amount into Kya’s cup. Kya smirked at the size of it and gave Ari a pointed look. Ari giggled, as if she wasn’t way more underage than Kya. Tenzin almost pitied them.

“So,” said Aang, after pouring himself a giant glass of lychee juice. “How was your day, Tenzin? We didn’t see too much of you.”

“Sorry about that,” said Tenzin. “I was visiting Uncle Iroh at the shop.”

“He’s doing well?”

“Very. He said he’s coming to the ceremony.”

Katara set her napkin down in her lap. “It seems like everyone is going to be there! Zuko said he’s bringing Mai and Izumi, and Ty Lee and Haru are back from their trip. Has anyone heard if Toph and the girls are coming?”

Tenzin choked on a prune. He tried to play it off like nothing was wrong as his face grew red. He chugged some lychee juice and cleared his throat.

“I ran into her today at City Hall,” said Aang. “She said they would all be there.”

“That’s wonderful,” said Katara.

“Damn, Tenzin, looks like the whole world is coming together to watch you become a man,” said Bumi dreamily. “I hope you don’t get performance anxiety!”

Kya and Ari giggled. Katara shot him a warning look.

“I’m not worried about it,” Tenzin said, grabbing a cookie from the platter on the table.

“Watch it, Bumi,” said Aang lightly.

“Why?” said Bumi, frowning. “No one threw me a party when I became a man.”

“That’s because you’re still a child,” said Tenzin, smiling sardonically. He bit into the cookie, chewed, and swallowed. “Although your cookies are fairly palatable.”

Ari laughed nervously. Bumi just raised his eyebrows at Tenzin. Tenzin polished off his cookie, feeling triumphant. He noticed Sokka and Suki exchange a look.

“Come to think of it, no one threw me a party when I mastered waterbending,” said Kya, her lip curling.

Katara threw her napkin down. “Kya, you decided to stop training with me. You can’t master a bending art on your own, I’m sorry. And the last time we threw a party for you, you left, so I refuse to feel bad about it.”

Kya’s face turned red. Ari glared at Katara, and Tenzin saw her squeeze Kya’s hand. Tenzin scoffed inwardly. Kya wasn’t exactly the greatest person ever, but he had no idea why she liked Ari. Ari was so plain looking, with no personality to speak of. Her only pretty features were her eyes, which were a soft shade of green. Actually… they kind of reminded him of Lin’s. But they didn’t have as nice of a shape.

“So, um, Ty Lee and Haru had a great time in Caldera!” said Suki, in an obvious attempt to change the subject.

“Oh, good,” said Aang. “Were all the sisters there?”

“I think she said five of them were.”

“Lucky Haru,” Sokka said, nudging Bumi, who laughed.

“Oh, shut up,” said Katara. “Ty Lee had the biggest crush on you when we were teenagers, and you didn’t even care.”

“Yeah, but if there were five of her…”

Suki smacked him lightly on the arm.

Sokka smiled at her. “I’m just kidding. I never looked twice at Ty Lee because I had my eye on you, baby.”

“Awww,” said Suki sarcastically. She shrieked as Sokka attacked her cheek with kisses.

Bumi and Kya exchanged a grossed out look as Ari’s cheeks turned red. Katara cleared her throat loudly. Tenzin, however, realized he was grinning ear to ear. His dad caught his eye, smiling in a puzzled manner. Tenzin shrugged and stuffed another cookie into his mouth.

Sokka and Suki had been married for twenty-five years without having children, and still behaved like lovesick teenagers. Tenzin had always found it embarrassing, but maybe he was being judgmental. It was actually kind of sweet.

After dinner, Tenzin helped his parents clear the table while Kya and Ari disappeared back to Kya’s room, and Bumi returned to the living room with Sokka and Suki.

“Tenzin, I just want you to know how proud I am that you didn’t let your brother and sister get to you tonight,” said Aang. “I appreciate that you’ve taken my advice to take the high road. You are truly embodying the airbender way of life.” He set a stack of dishes into the sink where Katara was using waterbending to clean them.

Tenzin, who was collecting napkins off the table, grinned sheepishly. Was his internal condescension toward his siblings against the airbender way of life? Or were all dignified people secretly condescending toward those who weren’t? Either way, he didn’t feel nearly as lost as he had the night before.

After the last dish had been cleaned and put away, Tenzin followed his parents to the living room. Sokka and Suki were starting to make their goodbyes since Sokka was on the council for an early hearing the next day. Tenzin offered to fly them back to Republic City on Oogie, his beloved bison.

Flying through the air, Tenzin felt peaceful for the first time in a while. This, of course, had to be ruined immediately by present company.

“So, Tenzin,” Suki begin, leaning over the saddle attached to Oogie’s back to peer down at Tenzin, who was sitting on Oogie’s head. “How have you been lately?”

Tenzin raised his eyebrow. “Well, you know. Pretty good, what with mastering airbending and all.”

“Yeah, but like, how’s your personal life?” Sokka added. Tenzin looked over his shoulder. His aunt and uncle’s heads were both sticking out over the edge of the saddle, eyeing him curiously.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tenzin asked dryly, turning back around.

“Your uncle and I couldn’t help but notice a drastic change in your mood from yesterday to today… and we were wondering if there’s anything going on in your life that’s making you, you know, happier.”

Without invitation, images of Lin from this afternoon popped into Tenzin’s mind. Her black hair, disheveled from her morning at metal bending class; her green eyes that got a faraway look in them when she talked about her mother; the crease between her eyebrows that Tenzin wanted to soothe by making her smile.

As soon as he thought of Lin and how happy she had made him today, another feeling overtook him—aversion. He had known Lin his entire life. They played together before they even knew how to walk or talk, and grew up in the same city. When they were little, Tenzin and Lin would hold hands, and Katara swears she found Lin kissing him once when they were too young to remember. But one day, when they were about six, Lin told Tenzin that holding hands and liking boys was gross, and that they could only be friends. After an afternoon of moping, Tenzin had accepted her offer of friendship, and hadn’t thought about her as anything more than a friend since. Until now.

His aunt and uncle didn’t let him reflect in silence for long. “Basically, Tenzin, we just want to know if you have a secret lover. We totally won’t tell your parents,” said Sokka.

Tenzin flushed, feeling the tips of his slightly oversized ears going red. “I do not have a secret lover!”

There was a long pause. Then Suki said, “Why not?”

“He could probably use one,” Sokka whispered loudly to Suki.

Tenzin sighed, and started Oogie on his descent, happy to be shortly rid of his relatives, and wondering what it would be like to have a normal family.

***********

Lin stood in the training court, sizing up her opponent. She hadn’t been matched against Gowan since last year, and she had beaten him easily. He was a bit of a latecomer to metalbending, not discovering his talent until he was fifteen years old. Since that match, however, he had improved considerably, and was now one of the better students in their year.

When he first got to the academy, it seemed like Lin was going to have to earthbend a safe landing place for all the girls who were practically fainting over his appearance. It was annoying, but she couldn’t blame them for being attracted to Gowan. He was tall and broad-shouldered, and very built for his age, but not in a freaky way like Lin’s mom’s friends from her Blind Bandit days. With his strong jawline and wavy dark hair, he was handsome in a very conventional way. Lin didn’t usually like conventional guys, but cute was cute. She found the other girls’ desperate behavior embarrassing, so she just removed herself from the equation. Gowan almost never spoke to her, surrounded by the boys and girls who admired him, but a few months ago he spotted her while coming out of the washroom, and congratulated her on the match she had just won. She thanked him, and told him she didn’t expect him to be watching.

“Well, between you and me, you’re one of the few people I actually like around here,” he’d whispered. “You’re not clamoring for attention like everyone else.”

By “attention” he’d clearly meant his attention, and was polite enough not to say so. But from that moment on, Lin had nurtured a painful little baby crush on him. One she couldn’t even act on, because then he would think she was like everyone else, and stop liking her.

When she discovered that she was paired against him this morning, her heart palpitated just a little before she squashed her feelings down. It didn’t matter how cute or nice her opponent was; she was going to crush him out on the field. Just like she always did.

When the whistle sounded, she sprinted toward the center of the field, where several large metal balls sat at intervals. She swept her arm dramatically, and half the balls jumped into the air and hovered behind her. She easily could have taken all of them, but she liked to at least give her opponents a chance, and didn’t want to tire out too early. Gowan metalbended one of the balls into a bullet shape and sent it flying at her face. She bent two of them into flat, plane-like shields that buffered his attack and sent it ricocheting back at him. While he was deflecting this counter attack, she transformed one of the shields into a chain that caught him around the calves, knocking him to the ground and dragging him toward the center of the field.

Gowan severed the chain, sending it flying back at Lin. She whirled out of the way, detected his location with her feet, and sent a shower of metal spikes his direction. He whipped the rest of the chain off from around his legs and quickly used it to block all of the spikes. He affixed the spikes to the end of the chain and hurled it back at her. She grinned evilly as she moved to block it.

But she wasn’t quick enough. It caught her in the crook of her left elbow, jerking her arm forcefully backwards and bringing her to her knees. She cried out in pain. A few of the students who were watching actually stood up, concerned. It wasn’t unusual for a student to get hurt, but it was unusual for Lin Bei Fong.

She gritted her teeth and stood up, rotating her shoulder. Fury pulsed through her veins. Gowan was circling her, a metal ball floating between his outstretched palms, which were held by his ear, poised for attack. She reached out and directed her fingers at the ball, flicking them to the side. The ball hit Gowan in the temple, and he went down, sprawled face first on the earthen floor of the playing field. A few seconds of tangible silence passed, and then the whistle sounded, signifying the end of the match.

Lin ran over to her fallen partner, a sick feeling welling in her throat. Why did she let her temper get the better of her? She had certainly caused her fair share of injuries, but apparently she couldn’t handle it when it happened to her. And now Gowan could be seriously hurt. She leaned down next to him, and heard a faint moaning.

She grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him onto his back, groaning from the effort. He blinked groggily at her.

“Gowan, are you okay?” she asked urgently.

“Ugh.” He turned his head and spat into the dirt next to him. “I think so. I feel like shit.”

She closed her eyes. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe that just happened.”

He smiled, putting a hand over his forehead. “No worries. When you’re a famous metalbending legend, I can tell my grandchildren about the time you knocked me out.”

She cringed, her face flushing. He laughed. “I’m seriously fine.”

“Okay,” she said reluctantly. She stood and offered him her hand, helping him up very slowly.

They went to the Dark One’s tent to get medical attention. As the Dark One checked Gowan’s pupils and reflexes for signs of a concussion, Gowan pointed to Lin’s arm. “Aren’t you going to get a bandage?”

Lin looked down. Her sleeve was ripped open at the crook of her elbow, and blood was flowing from a small puncture wound, staining the soft green ripped fabric almost black.

“Sorry about that,” said Gowan sheepishly.

Lin smiled shakily. “That’s okay. It’s not like you knocked me out or anything.” She went into the next room of the tent and rummaged through the medical kit, pulling out the supplies she needed. She cleaned her bloodied arm with alcohol—the shirt was ruined already, so she just poured it on—and rubbed some antibacterial salve on the wound. She tried to balance a piece of gauze on her arm and wrap it, but it was very difficult to do one-handed.

Gowan walked into the room. “Need a hand?”

“Yeah, thanks,” she said as he repositioned the gauze and begin to wrap her elbow. “So, what was the verdict about… your head?” She tried to keep her breathing normal, but her heart was beating so fast. She’d never had an attractive boy touch her this much. Or any boy. Which was kind of pathetic.

“Oh, I definitely have a concussion,” he said, finishing the wrapping and tucking the loose end in. “The Dark One is ordering me to go home and get some rest.”

“Oh, god.” Of course this would happen to her. “I feel terrible.”

He laughed. “I guess that’s the price of being an amazing fighter. You’re going to wreck a few skulls here and there.”

She blushed, unsure what to say. It seemed wrong to take a compliment after giving a guy a concussion.

“So, uh, I was wondering,” he said, the smile fading slightly as he begin to look vulnerable. “It’s fine if not, but… do you want to go out for lunch at Pan Chuk?”

Lin bit her lip. Pan Chuk was a moderately fancy restaurant downtown. “For what?”

“Like… for a date.”

It seemed like all the air had disappeared from the room. Lin had spent months trying to undo her crush on Gowan, convinced it would only lead to disappointment. She had never even allowed herself to think that this could happen. He was smiling at her in a way that was both tentative and expectant. And totally overwhelming.

If she felt this overwhelmed just standing next to him, how would she feel on a whole date together? Would she be expected to make small talk? Lin despised most kinds of talk, but small was the worst. Suddenly, a date seemed like a ridiculous thing.

She thought about yesterday morning, when she had needed someone to talk to, and found Tenzin. That kind of talking wasn’t so bad. They discussed what was bothering them, and when they didn’t have anything left to say, they just sat in silence. Neither of them felt the need to comment on the tea or topiaries just to fill the air with the vibrations of their own voices. It was—perfect, actually. The happiest she’d been in a while. And even though she didn’t know Gowan very well, and therefore might be judging him unfairly, the idea of spending time getting to know him just seemed so exhausting.

“Lin?” Gowan said, looking a bit worried. She realized she still hadn’t answered him.

“I just remembered something I have to do,” she mumbled. “I’m meeting my mom at the shopping center.”

“No worries,” he said, half-smiling. “Maybe another time?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

They walked out of the tent. The Academy had just closed for the day, and they were amongst the last few leaving. As they reached the street, Gowan started towards downtown, and so did Lin, heading home.

Gowan stopped and looked at her, puzzled. “I thought you had to go to the shopping center?”

Lin stopped. The shopping center was the opposite direction, in the merchant area of the city. “Right. Just a habit, I guess.” She waved goodbye and turned on her heel, quickly walking the other way.

She felt ridiculous for lying, and then continuing her lie to the extent that she actually had to go to the shopping center, just in case. But she had to lie. Otherwise, what would she say? ‘I don’t want to go out with you, even though I very obviously have a crush on you? Take this concussion in lieu of my affection?’ It didn’t make sense even to herself, so there was no way she was going to try and explain it to him.

When she arrived to the multi-storied shopping center, she ducked into the nearest store on the ground floor. It was a knickknacks and curios shop, with figurines and antiques lining the dusty shelves. ‘Gift Shop,’ claimed the sign above the checkout counter.

Lin’s thoughts returned to Tenzin. He had mentioned that his tattoo ceremony was in a few days. It would be nice to get him a little something to commemorate the occasion.

She rifled through a stack of black and white prints of landscape photos. Maybe they would have one of Air Temple Island, or some of the urban structures of Republic City. Instead, she found landscape after landscape of some rural part of the Earth Kingdom. There was one that was kind of okay, showing a bunch of emu-horses frolicking in a barren field. But what would Tenzin do with that? Hang it on his wall next to the incense table? No way.

“Looking for something specific, miss?”

Lin turned and came face-to-face with a shrunken old man, his eyes thick with cataracts. Lin had realized long ago that most blind people weren’t exactly as able as her mother, and immediately empathized with the man.

“Uh, yeah. I’m looking for a present for my friend,” she said. “Something kind of… congratulatory. He’s a sixteen-year-old boy,” she added.

“Ahh, yes,” the man murmured. He turned and gestured towards a table stacked with stuffed animals. “Perhaps a teddy platapus-bear?”

“For a sixteen-year-old boy?” she asked skeptically.

“Oh, a boy doesn’t mind a cutesy gift if it comes from his sweetie,” the man clasped his hands and batted his eyelashes. Lin suppressed a groan. She had little patience for romantic people. And she was not Tenzin’s ‘sweetie.’ But the guy was old, and blind, and she wanted to give him a chance.

She canvased the selection of toys. They were kind of old and flea-bitten. She picked up a poodle-lamb that had once been white, but was now dingy, its glass eyes chipped. The others didn’t look much better, but the man was still standing there expectantly, so she pretended to be interested in a sunbleached eel-hound doll.

She spotted something glinting in her peripheral vision. Looking up, she saw a shelf high on the wall lined with ancient jewelry. She honed in on what caught her eye: a thick bangle bracelet made of some type of whitish-silver metal. The bracelet was hideously unfashionable, but the metal was beautiful. She knew exactly what to do.

She walked over and lifted the bracelet from the shelf. It was surprisingly heavy. “How much for this bracelet?”

The shopkeeper took it from her, identifying it with his hands. “Twenty yuans,” he replied. “But this is an odd gift for a young man.”

“Well,” said Lin, scratching the back of her neck guiltily. “He’s, uh. An odd man.”

“Very well.” He wrapped the bracelet in silk and placed it into a small gift box. She handed him twenty-five yuans—her lunch fund for the week—and told him to keep the change.

*******

An hour later, Lin sat at the dinner table, putting the finishing touches on her gift. What had once been a bracelet had been liquified and re-crafted into a small sculpture of a baby bison, its teeth bared in a ferocious display. It looked adorable, but still respectably fierce. Like Tenzin, she thought, half-smiling. She had left the back of the bison flat and smooth, and used the last of the remaining metal to fashion a pin to it. She imagined Tenzin wearing it on his airbender robes. It would suit him so well.

Lin heard a key turn in the lock, and looked over at the front door. Toph stepped inside the living room, followed closely by Su. Lin raised an eyebrow. Normally Su was still out running the streets at this hour.

Su glanced at Lin furtively, then ran down the hall. Lin heard her door slam.

“What was that about?” she asked Toph.

Toph sighed, setting her briefcase on one of the dinner table’s chairs. “She’s upset because one of her little friends got pinched. Tried to ask me to release him.”

“And you didn’t?” Lin said, surprised. Wasn't her mom acting like the criminal behavior of children was none of her concern just a few days ago?

“Of course not.” Toph gave Lin a hard look. “Do you know what kind of strings I’d have to pull to get a criminal off the hook without a trial? I could lose my job.”

“Right.” Of course that was all she cared about. Lin picked up the baby bison pin and reached for the wrapping that had originally been used by the shopkeeper. She would put it back in the gift box, and it would be a much better present than she could have found in any store.

“What’s that?” asked Toph, gesturing to the bison.

“It’s a gift for Tenzin,” Lin said, unwrapping it and handing it to her mom. “I made it.”

Toph turned the bison over in her hand, inspecting it. “Why did you make him a gift?”

“Because he mastered airbending. We’re going to his ceremony, right?” Her mom still hadn’t mentioned it.

Toph snorted. “Yeah, but, kid, you don’t give people presents for an airbender ceremony.” She thrust the pin back into Lin’s hand.

Lin frowned. “What?”

“It’s not like it’s his birthday, Lin! It’s a super serious, religious-rite type of thing. It’s a ceremony, not a party.”

“So? I’ll give it to him after.”

“No offense, kid, but I think that would be kind of unorthodox. If there’s a group of people that loves their traditions, it’s that family. And with this being the first ceremony in well over a hundred years, it’s probably better to just hold off.” Toph stood up and stretched, her back making a loud cracking noise. “It’s your night to make dinner, so hurry up. I’m hungry.” She retreated down the hall to her room.

Lin stared at the bison pin bitterly, feeling foolish. Of course it was a dumb idea. She shoved it in the gift box and stashed it on one of the pantry shelves, resolving to forget about it, and tried to concentrate on what she could cook for dinner, since none of them had remembered to buy groceries..

**********

Tenzin was lying on a cot in the back room of the temple. His entire body throbbed, making him feel lightheaded. He glanced down at his arm, feeling the tenderness in the back of his neck as he turned his head. His arm had a bright blue stripe running down it. He kept looking at it every ten minutes or so, unable to fully believe it had happened.

Yesterday afternoon, an air acolyte had shaved his head and gave him an herbal tea that produced a mild anesthetic. He was awake and aware during the tattooing, and though the sensation was uncomfortable and odd, it wasn’t outright painful. After the tattoos were complete, he was given a sedative tea, and fell into a deep sleep, filled with confusing and abstract dreams. His pain ended up waking him, but only after he’d gotten many hours of sleep. He had been awake for a couple of hours now, meditating the pain away, and feeling anxious and excited to be in what felt like a new body.

The velvet curtain doorway to the back room fluttered, and his mother poked her head in, gasping at the sight of him. “Can we come in?” she whispered.

“Yeah,” Tenzin croaked. Katara stepped through the curtain, followed by Aang, Bumi, and Kya. Aang’s face was eclipsed by a massive smile, and his eyes looked wet. Bumi and Kya shared a somber expression, as if Tenzin was bedridden because of some horrible illness, and not a rite of passage.

“Oh, Tenzin!” Katara rushed to his side, kneeling. She tentatively took his hand, careful not to touch the arrow tattooed on the back.

“Hey, Mom.”

“How are you feeling?” He saw her eyes go to the arrow tattooed on his now-bald head.

“Okay, just a little sore.”

Katara sighed. “I know it’s not traditional, but do you want me to heal it? Then you won’t be in any more pain. And your father doesn’t mind,” she added in a stage-whisper.

Tenzin looked at Aang, who shrugged, still smiling broadly. Bumi and Kya were still staring blankly at him. If he had his mom heal his tattoos, it would pretty much confirm every awful thing they thought about him.

“It’s okay Mom, really. I want to do it the traditional way.”

Katara nodded sadly.

Aang knelt down and put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a sideways embrace. “That’s my boy,” he said softly. “A true airbender.” They looked down at Tenzin.

“You look just like your father,” said Katara tearfully.

“But maybe even handsomer, if that’s possible,” said Aang, winking. “The ceremony starts in an hour. You’ve been preparing for this moment for years. The hard part is over—mastering airbending, I mean. Now comes the time to receive your accolades and present yourself to all of Republic City as the first new airbending master in one hundred and thirty-five years.”

Tenzin smiled sheepishly. “Got it, Dad.”

“I know.” Aang looked straight at Tenzin, his dark grey eyes gleaming. “Son, I couldn’t have asked for a better successor to lead the future of airbending. This is the proudest moment of my entire life.”

“Dad,” Tenzin said, a lump rising in his throat. He lifted himself up with some effort, and reached out to hug Aang. Katara wrapped her arms around both Tenzin and Aang. Looking over Aang’s shoulder, Tenzin caught sight of Bumi and Kya.

Kya’s mouth was hanging open, her eyes shocked and hurt. Bumi’s jaw was jutted out, his mouth a tight line and his eyes hard. Tenzin looked at them questioningly. Bumi shook his head, a quick jerk, a refusal of Tenzin’s acknowledgement.

Aang and Katara released Tenzin, wiping their eyes.

“We’re going to make sure everything is ready for the ceremony,” Katara said, kissing Tenzin on the cheek.

“I’ll be back to get you when we’re ready to start,” said Aang.

“Okay, thanks,” said Tenzin.

He watched as his parents walked past his brother and sister without acknowledging them, and disappeared through the curtains.

The three siblings remained in the room. Bumi was pointedly glaring at a place behind Tenzin’s head. Kya was looking at him, her eyes red and her bottom lip heavy.

“Congratulations, Tenzin,” she said meekly, before turning around and pushing through the curtain.

Bumi finally looked at him. “Yup, you’re the man, Tenz.” He made each of his hands into a gun shape and pointed them at Tenzin, smiling sarcastically. Then he followed Kya through the doorway.

Tenzin blinked rapidly, unable to comprehend what had just transpired. Sure, their dad had said Tenzin’s mastery was the proudest moment of his life, but that didn’t mean it was the only proud moment. And of course he was going to put more emotional energy into Tenzin—he was literally the only other airbender in existence. But, he reminded himself, it wasn’t Bumi and Kya’s faults they weren’t airbenders.

Was that why they picked on him so much? Because they were jealous? It seemed impossible, but it was true that Tenzin generally got more positive attention from their parents. He’d always assumed this was just because he was better behaved and more respectful, but maybe his siblings had never been given a chance. They were part of Aang’s legacy too, after all.

Tenzin sighed. It was a lot of pressure, being the only other airbender and such an important part of Air Nomad culture. But Bumi and Kya had just as much Air Nomad blood as he did. Somehow, he’d never really thought of it like that. And now that he did, he was finding the pressure lifting. He was becoming lighter, more air-like. Maybe he would make a decent master after all.

**********

Lin stood with her mother and little sister in the crowd outside the Air Temple, the collar of her dress itching. Toph was wearing her police uniform; Lin never saw her wear anything else. Su was wearing pants and a long-sleeved shirt with boots. Partially out of defiance towards them and partially out of respect for Tenzin and his family, Lin had decided to wear her nicest dress, custom-ordered for her by her grandparents from a boutique in Gaoling. It was a rich shade of Earth Kingdom green, with cream-colored lace around the collar and edges of its three-quarter sleeves. Cream buttons spanned from the collar to the cinched waist, where the skirt hung to above her knees. It wasn’t too poofy or too tight, showing off her curves in a way that was subtle and tasteful. She’d always admired the dress, but never had a good place to wear it.

Not that she was entirely sure this was a good place for it. Sure, there were several people in fancy dress, but it was all so boring and formal, nothing that came from an upscale boutique. People kept complimenting her, which was so embarrassing, making her wish she could open the earth to swallow her whole. Which, of course, she absolutely could. But it wouldn’t be very polite.

“Oh my god, Toph!” a high pitched voice squealed. Lin, startled, looked around. A very bubbly woman in full Kyoshi attire was waving, her other arm linked at the elbow with a man who had long hair and a handlebar mustache.

“Hey, Ty Lee,” Toph said gruffly. “Haru.”

“Are these your girls? I haven’t seen them in so long!” Ty Lee cooed, looking from Su to Lin.

“Yeah. They’re ten and sixteen now.”

“Oh, wow!” Ty Lee looked Lin up and down, taking in her figure. “I bet you have, like, all the boys after you, right?”

“Uh,” Lin said.

Toph scoffed. “Lin? No way. She’d kick a boy’s ass as soon as look at him. They’re probably all scared of her.” Lin felt her face go red.

Ty Lee gave a feminine tinkling laugh. “She takes after you, then,” she said sweetly.

“Damn right,” said Toph. Lin looked at her mother, startled. Was it her imagination, or did Toph actually seem proud? Ty Lee smiled, and then she and Haru walked off to say hi to other guests.

Others came up to greet Toph, and most of them complemented her on her ‘beautiful daughters.’ Lin gritted her teeth, horribly embarrassed. Why did she have to wear this stupid dress? She should have worn something matronly and concealing. But what if Tenzin saw her? She wanted to look at least somewhat attractive, but it was turning out to be more trouble than it was worth.

As they said hello to Uncle Iroh, Fire Lord Zuko, Fire Lady Mai, and the Princess Izumi, all she could think about was if Izumi was judging her outfit. Izumi was wearing long formal robes, with a simple, elegant red dress underneath. The dress reached the ground and didn’t show the outline of any curves. Not that she really had any; she was pretty thin. But still.

“Lin didn’t tell me that,” Toph said, catching Lin’s eye.

“Huh?” said Lin. She hadn’t been paying attention.

“You went to Pops’ tea shop the other day?” asked Toph.

“Oh, yeah.” Lin scratched her nose awkwardly. “It was nice.”

“It was nice having you there as well! Master Tenzin is a regular, so maybe we’ll both start seeing more of you?”

Lin felt five pairs of eyes on her like lamps, heating her skin. Even Toph’s eyes seemed to bore through her. “Oh, yeah,” she said faintly. “Maybe.”

There were a couple seconds of silence. Then Fire Lord Zuko cleared his throat. “I think they said they were letting people in in about five minutes.” He looked at Lin apologetically, as if sensing and commiserating with her embarrassment. “Are you all ready to go inside?”

“Let’s do it,” said Toph. They set towards the front entrance, where a gong was beginning to chime.

*******

The entire crowd of ceremony-goers was enraptured as Aang gave his speech on the tenets and beliefs of the Air Nomads, and what it meant to have another airbending master on this earth after the entire race was destroyed. A group of air acolytes performed a drumbeat to accompany his voice. A figure was kneeling next to the drum circle, clad in a yellow robe. Lin looked over at her mother and sister. Even Toph and Su were hanging on Aang’s every word.

When Aang finished speaking, he turned toward the kneeling figure in the back. Lin’s stomach swooped. Tenzin.

Tenzin stood and reached up with both hands, grabbing the hood and pulling it off his face. His head was smooth, and a bright blue arrow gleamed on his forehead, fresher and more brilliant than Lin had ever seen Aang’s.

He removed the robe completely, dressed only in short orange pants. The arrows traced down his arms and legs. His chi pathways, Lin remembered from a conversation they’d had years ago. He seemed to glow, like the moon.

He walked up to his father, who placed a large wooden medallion around his neck. Then he turned to the crowd. The drumbeat reached a thunderous pace, and the crowd was awed into silence.

Lin was horrified to realize that her eyes were burning with unshed tears. She hadn’t cried since she was younger than Su. She bit her lip hard, trying to stem the flow.

She felt a punch on her arm. It was her mother. Tears were flowing from Toph’s frosty eyes, running down her cheeks. “Are you trying not to cry?” she snapped.

Lin wiped at her eyes. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Don’t be such a baby,” Toph said, smiling as she sniffled. “Just cry, it won’t kill you.”

Lin smiled shakily and looked back at Tenzin. He looked so grown up, and at the same time, so young and vulnerable. His big blue eyes searched the crowd, finally making contact with her own. He smiled tentatively. Lin smiled back, gazing into his eyes for as long as she could until her own blurred with tears.

**********

Tenzin walked through the familiar streets downtown, enjoying the nice weather. A few days had passed since his ceremony, and his tattoos were starting to feel like a normal part of his skin, albeit a painful part. He was also getting used to his shaved head, though a couple of tiny hairs were already starting to emerge. His dad said he shaved his head every day, but to Tenzin that seemed like a bit much to put his fresh wounds through.

As he approached The Jasmine Dragon, he admired his reflection in the window. He never thought of himself as the best-looking guy, but now he was cool and distinguished. He realized that anyone inside the teahouse could see him, and quickly stopped strutting in front of his reflection.

He walked through the beaded doorway and over to the counter, where Uncle Iroh was putting a teapot onto a serving tray.

“Hey, Uncle. I’ll take the usual today.”

“Master Tenzin!” said Iroh, looking surprised. “What brings you in today?”

Tenzin raised an eyebrow. “I always come in here.”

“Oh.” Uncle Iroh looked thoughtful. “No, uh, particular reason?”

“No,” Tenzin said, confused.

“Well then!” Uncle Iroh stepped out from behind the counter and clapped his hand on Tenzin’s shoulder. “Why don’t you just go upstairs?”

“What? Shouldn’t I wait for my tea?”

“I’ll bring it up to you.” Uncle Iroh started steering Tenzin toward the staircase. “Now then, up you go!” He gave Tenzin a little push.

“Okay, okay,” said Tenzin, hurrying up the stairs. Uncle Iroh was acting so strange. He reached the top of the stairs and pushed the door open quickly, stepping inside and shutting it behind him. Lin was sitting on the bench swing, holding a teacup and staring somewhere past the garden walls. When she heard the door shut, she jumped, sloshing a bit of tea onto her shirt. She looked at him and then laughed.

“You scared me.”

“I’m sorry,” Tenzin said, laughing embarrassedly. “Uncle Iroh told me to come up here. He didn’t say you were here.”

“Oh.” Color rose in Lin’s cheeks, a pretty pink shade. It looked like she was wearing make-up. She cleared her throat. “Want some tea?”

“Sure,” said Tenzin. He poured himself a cup and then sat next to her. “What flavor is it?”

“I’m not sure,” Lin admitted. “I don’t drink tea much, so I just asked him to give me something mild.”

Tenzin took a sip. It just tasted like hot water that had a slight funk to it. “Hmm,” he said, pretending to like it.

They sat together in silence for a few minutes. Lin was rotating her cup in her hands nervously.

She suddenly spoke. “Did it hurt? Getting the tattoos?” She turned her head so that she was staring right into his eyes.

He thought for a moment. “Does it hurt knowing you just asked a very silly question?”

She scoffed, and then started laughing. He laughed as well. “Okay, that was a dumb. Obviously it hurt.”

“I didn’t say it was dumb,” Tenzin said. “I just had faith in you to figure out the answer.”

“Does it still hurt?”

“Nope.”

She eyed him skeptically.

“Well, a little. But not nearly as bad as it did.”

“That’s good.” She took a tiny sip from her cup. Tenzin did the same.

“Um,” said Lin. “Is it just me, or is this tea not good?”

“It’s really not,” said Tenzin, placing his cup on the floor, happy to discontinue his charade. “I think Uncle misunderstood when you asked for ‘mild.’ Maybe he thought you said ‘moldy.””

“I’ve been known to mumble,” said Lin, placing her cup next to Tenzin’s. He laughed, and they both relaxed back into the swing.

“Oh, by the way.” Lin reached into the pocket of her coat. “Speaking of things that are silly.” She extracted a small gift box. “I made you a little something to commemorate your ceremony. It’s kind of dumb, but I thought you might get a kick out of it. I was going to leave it with Uncle Iroh, but you’re here, so…” she trailed off, dropping the box into his hands.

Something welled up in Tenzin’s chest. He carefully untied the ribbon, and opened the tiny wooden box. He lifted the small, heavy object, and slowly unraveled the silk wrappings. The small silver bison dropped into his hands, gleaming.

“I, uh, made that out of a bracelet from Lee’s Gift Shop,” Lin stammered. “They didn’t really have anything cool so I just figured I’d improvise. But, you know, I’m not exactly an artist or anything. I understand if you don’t want to wear the stupid thing.” She laughed self-consciously.

Tenzin wrapped his hand around the bison, as if to protect it from her insults. He looked into her vulnerable green eyes. She was chewing on her bottom lip, clearly embarrassed.

“I don’t think it’s stupid,” he said seriously. “I think it’s the best gift I’ve ever received.”

“Really?” said Lin, a look of disbelief crossing her face.

“Yeah. Definitely.” Without thinking about it, he reached out and clasped her hands, the bison pin cradled between them. He looked down at the pin, then back at her. Her mouth was slightly open. He leaned in, feeling something magnetic between them.

“Uh, I also have a coupon!” Lin hastily reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of pink paper, shoving it in his face. ‘Lee’s Gift Shop - 20% off next purchase!’ was printed on it in bubble letters.

“Oh!” said Tenzin, reeling back quickly. “Uh, thank you.” He took the coupon and stared at it awkwardly.

He wasn’t sure what to say, so he attached the bison pin to the lapel of his robes. The silver contrasted with the red and yellow of his outfit, and his wooden medallion, but it was a nice contrast. The metal sparkled so beautifully. He couldn’t believe Lin saw it and thought of him. He looked over at her.

She was slumped in the corner of the swing, her hand over her face. Her cheeks were flaming red underneath. Tenzin let out a breath of relief—at least he was making Lin feel as awkward as she was making him feel. That had to count for something, right?

He put the coupon into the gift box along with the silk wrappings, and put it in his pocket. “So, uh, what are your plans for the afternoon?”

She set her hand down, looking over at him. “it’s my night to make dinner,” she mumbled. “I actually have to go home soon.” She seemed disappointed.

Tenzin realized he was disappointed, too. “Do you want me to walk you home?”

Lin brightened slightly. “But it’s kind of out of the way for you.”

“Not really,” said Tenzin. “I’ll just use my glider to get back to Oogie. Piece of cake.”

Lin laughed. “Alright then. Sure.”

*******

As they turned off the cobblestone streets and headed down the dirt road toward her house, Lin felt oddly satisfied with Tenzin by her side. She had been so reluctant to give him that pin, but it had gone over so well.

Well, except for when they had been about to kiss… she could have handled that a little better.

She wanted to kick herself in the face. Now Tenzin would probably never think of her that way again, and it was all her fault. As soon as she had derailed it, she realized how much she wanted it to happen. But maybe it was better this way. Maybe they had known each other for too long.

Suddenly, something hit her square in the back, snapping her out of her reverie. She whirled around. Tenzin had fallen behind, and had an evil grin on his face. He sent another air ball in her direction, this time catching her on the shoulder.

“What the hell?” she yelled, confused and angry. Why was Tenzin attacking her? For revenge because she didn’t kiss him back?

“Bending fight!” he declared, sending another air ball into her stomach.

“Oof!” she said. Tenzin laughed, clutching his own stomach. Lin hadn’t seen him laugh like that since they were kids. “You’re on!”

She slammed her foot into the ground and bent the earth beneath Tenzin’s feet, causing him to lose his balance and begin hopping around. “Dance, puppet!” she screamed with glee.

“Oh, I will!” he shouted, creating an airscooter. He drove it right at her, but she dove out of the way, bending a wall in front of him. He crashed against the wall, the scooter disappearing. He made a whirlwind to catch his fall, and then turned around, sending the small tornado at her. It caught her and spun her around and around, making her dizzy. When she was pointed in Tenzin’s direction, she bent the earth around his feet rapidly, causing him to trip and fall on his back with a loud thud. As he fell, the tornado that had been keeping her aloft disappeared, and she lost her balance, falling next to him.

Lin’s body shook with silent giggles. Even as a child she had been very serious, and she couldn’t remember the last time she had behaved this ridiculously. She would bet money that Tenzin was feeling the same way. She looked over at him. He was laughing so hard his face was red, and so was the top of his bald little head. It was adorable. He exhaled loudly, wiping his eyes, and looked over at Lin, smiling.

She felt like her heart was going to explode from nervousness. Don’t think about it, she told herself. Just do it. She rolled onto her side and put her hand on Tenzin’s cheek. He turned his head towards hers, his eyes bright. She pressed her lips to his, feeling outside herself.

Tenzin placed his hand on the back of her neck and rolled on top of her, pressing his mouth to hers. She opened to kiss him more deeply, barely aware of her hair being rubbed into the dirt. After a few long minutes, Tenzin broke the kiss, gazing down at her. She smiled. She could have standed to do that for a lot longer.

“So, um.” Tenzin smoothed her hair off her face. His expression was both happy and incredulous, as if he couldn’t believe his luck. He looked away shyly. “Maybe sometime, when you don’t have to make dinner… would you like to… I don’t know… hang out?”

Lin laughed. “Hanging out sounds nice.”

He quickly looked back at her. “Okay. Cool.” He kissed her again, two pecks on the lips. He grinned.

Lin grinned back. “Since we pretty much tied in the bending fight, we need to have a rematch.”

Tenzin laughed. “Okay. But for the record, I really like it when we tie.”

*********

Lin could hardly concentrate while she was making dinner. She accidentally overcooked the noodles, and put way too much seasoning on them.

“Lin, what the hell?” Toph complained after eating the first forkful.

“Sorry,” said Lin. “Just kind of distracted.”

“Oh, yeah. You sound real apologetic, too.” Toph snorted and took another bite. “You don’t normally get distracted, Lin. This one—“ she jabbed her thumb in Su’s direction—“always has her head in the clouds, but not you.”

Lin smiled and bit her lip. It was true. But Tenzin was part air and part water. He was like a cloud, stormy and serious, but able to let the light shine through. Lin wasn’t usually much of a dreamer, but for the first time in her life, her care for another person lifted her spirits rather than weighing her down. If there was one cloud she didn’t mind getting lost in, it was that boy.