Chapter Six: The Aang Gaang
Katara's Point of View
I could lie and say it's all a dream.
You could cry and then we both could scream.
I could say that's it, we're through
There's no more us, just me and you
I could try to say it was fun
But in the end it's over.
I'm done.
I read over the poem and closed my little brown leather notebook. The rhyme meter got a bit off towards the end, but other than that it seemed pretty decent. I sighed, running my fingers over the clumsy, ill-drawn words. I was unable to keep the memory from resurfacing.
Aang.
It was hard to know he loved me as more than a friend while all I could offer was mere companionship. He was my first kiss back in Omashu. I had convinced myself that I liked him, that we should be more than friends. But there was nothing in that kiss. No spark, no chill, no nothing. My stomach used to churn with shyness when he looked at me; now it churns with the fear of breaking his heart. It is a weight I must carry. I am the companion of the Avatar, and I have promised to protect him. Even if I'm the one he needs protection from.
I know it breaks his heart that I can't love him back. I've tried. Someone once told me there were five stages of grief. So, according to the five stages of grief, hear of the five stages of me and Aang as I see it:
I. Denial
I must love Aang, I thought as we journeyed down into the womb of the Cave of Two Lovers. Sweet, innocent Aang. So strong in the face of being the avatar – or perhaps ignorant of the weight at times. No, no. He was only twelve in years, but he carried a certain maturity; really, he was more of man. More than a man. He was the bridge between the spirit world and our tangible one. He carried a great weight with dignity.
I must love him, I thought. The logical conclusion; did any other option make sense? There was no reason not to; I did not find him repulsive in any way, did not dislike him. So this must be love. It only made sense.
I must like this; the girls at home said kissing is the best thing ever. I'm must be enjoying myself. I must, I thought as his lips touched mine.
Air picks up, disrupting the ocean's soft surface.
II. Anger
Why did he have to make things so complicated? Why was he staring all gooey-eyed, all puppies? Why wasn't he thinking about me, about my feelings? I didn't like being stared at. Besides, it is not the place of the Avatar to seek a life companion. He had a million things to do. People to heal, nations to save, dictators to kill – you know.
It wasn't fair. I couldn't be the Avatar's girlfriend! Can you imagine the responsibility? The women of the world would be looking to me for guidance, me for direction. People would come to me asking what to do with their lives, how to live. They'd want me to birth their babies and blessing their marriages and fight for water I'd bended. How could Aang as me to be their leader, to look after the world? I was only a girl!
And what did I know of the world, really? I'd spent the first thirteen years trapped in the South Pole and the last two had been so rushed that there was no way I could understand all those little cultural intricacies. How could he? How could he?
Ice fights to break air, only to be melted, suffocated, evaporated.
III. Bargaining
I dragged Toph to the spa and watched with a critical eye as they did her makeup, drawing out her natural beauty. I was trying to find someone else for Aang to love. . .so surely that meant I wasn't so bad, really. I brushed her hair and touched the makeup and fussed until Toph finally demanded to know if I had an agenda.
Of course not! I assured her. Now just hold still while I put this blush on your cheeks. We should get some new clothes.
Jeez, sugar queen! What's your deal today? she grumbled, squirming and disrupting my carefully cultivated hand.
Just be quiet and hold still! I finally shouted, loosing patience. Toph thankfully didn't push the issue, and at dinner that night I did everything in my power to make Aang notice her. He didn't, and quietly I cried myself to sleep. My dreams were noiseless, but for my pleas and an inconstant god.
Earth doesn't move, so the air goes uninterrupted. The water is still, hiding plummeting depths.
IV: Depression
I kept breathing. Such a burden; I could destroy or make his happiness. My stomach howled with hunger pangs, begging me to eat, to stop ignoring the demands. But no, no. I wouldn't eat; I would fight to die, fight for flight. The blood was hot on my wrist, dripping slowly from a sparring wound. A superficial cut; so easy to make it deeper, to make an accident. But did I really want this? I wanted to escape the pain. Yet still I healed the cut and went on.
In the cover of the darkness of the night I walked into the sea, shivering against the cold and staring at the inconstant moon. The moon fades. I wanted to fade to, to go and go and go.
Katara. . .what are you doing? Zuko's voice, not accusing, not pressuring. I felt him wading out until he was beside me, and placing his hands on my shoulders. He was so warm. Katara, he said, softly, slowly.
Go away, Zuko, I demanded, squirming and fighting as he wrapped his arms around me.
He kissed my neck as I sobbed. He said my name over and over again, took me back to camp where I slept. I clung to him with clawing fingers, salty cheeks.
If I'm dead I can't hurt him anymore, I said. He'll have to get over me.
Zuko tightened his grip on me. I have a knife in my pocket. My uncle gave it to me when I was eleven, right before the end of the Six-Hundred Day Siege of Ba Sing Se. The inscription says never give up without a fight. It stopped me from killing myself once, because when I went to the knife it told me to stop. Funny, sort of.
I can't hurt Aang anymore, Zuko. Please let me go back to the forgiving sea. The water will take good care of me. I will swim away.
Never. I couldn't let you hurt yourself. I couldn't lose you. He'll take care of himself. Please, this isn't worth it, he said. I fell asleep in his arms and from then on he owned my heart.
Oh, Zuko.
V: Acceptance
I am inconstant as the moon, waning and waxing. Some days are better, some are worse. Zuko, like the sun, is constant. At my side with his (few) but perfect words, his understanding of the feeling of burdening, of hurting the ones you ache for and love. I love Sokka as a brother, Toph as a sister, Iroh like a father and Aang. . .
Aang like a son.
I found Azula lying down on a river bank, watching the sun. Her hands were on her abdomen, and I could see dull flames. She was trying to dull the pain. I sat down next to her and sighed. I bended some water and she stiffened for a moment, realizing that in that moment I could have killed her before she even had time to scream. But I left her alone, and she said nothing.
"Have you ever been in love?" she asked finally, not meeting my eye. I frowned.
"Love hurts,"
"That wasn't my question," clipped, almost impersonal.
"Maybe," would have been rude to add with your brother?
"How do you know?" she lifted her right hand and swirled it around, sending spirals of yellow flames into the air.
"You just. . . feel it,"
"Please don't give me some crap about butterflies like Ty Lee does,"
"No, it was . . . it hurts. You ache for them. I think,"
"Oh," she sat up and cocked her head, looking at me with scrutinizing eyes. And then, so quickly for a moment I wasn't even quite sure it happened at first, she pressed her lips to mine. Then suddenly she drew back, face flaming. I reached for her but she was getting up. She tried to move away from me and stumbled back into the water.
"Azula!"
"Go away, water witch!" she pulled away when I grabbed her wrist. Tears in her eyes. The pain of the fear of unrequited love. I could do it again.
So I threw myself against her (Spirits, she was warm) and I kissed her, burying my fingers in her hair and listening to the rapid beating of her heart, her spurted breaths. When I pulled away I realized that I was on top of her. The stream was shallow enough in this section, though. We were dripping wet, and she was starting at me like I was a ghost.
"I . . . don't know what to say," she admitted.
A beat of silence.
"I'll be back," she said, disentangling herself. Her hands were so warm.
"I meant that," I said, only realizing then that I did. She paused.
"I know. I need to think," she walked into the forest and I was left alone, wondering if she'd ever come back.
Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender.