A/N: I love seeing those emails where people are following and favouriting Abstraction! If you're a new reader or and old one, I adore you and SO would love to hear your thoughts, so please review! Also, I have no idea what my titles are doing, anymore. – Ava McKenna

A-B-S-T-R-A-C-T-I-O-N

MEISAKI GETS A BATH

"I'll be a better man, today.
I'll be good, I'll be good,
and I'll love the world like I should."
- Jaymes Young

It was worth it.

Meisaki may have been thrown viciously into a cold, damp cell somewhere deep within the confines of the Fire Nation's main prison, but she couldn't bring herself to regret using her waterbending on that pompous fool. Just who on earth did he think he was, shaking his glass in her face like she was his pet? Meisaki was a noble of her northern water tribe. She couldn't just allow him to behave in such a way toward her, prisoner of war or not.

And she certainly wasn't planning on being a prisoner for much longer.

She would find a way to escape. She had to. They couldn't keep her locked up here forever, especially not when she was this determined to do something about it. Meisaki could put the prison staff through hell if she wanted to. It wouldn't even be difficult. She could make them let her go, and if not then she would find a way to escape, somehow. She liked to think she was strong-willed enough to make it through all this. She had her waterbending as well, which was more than she could say about most of the other captives. That was something that the fire nation couldn't take away from her.

Meisaki tossed a strand of long, sable hair from her eyes, listening to the echoes of crashing and yelling reverberate off the iron walls of the prison. She had no idea how long the guards planned to keep her there. They had been livid after her most recent show of disobedience, and she wouldn't be surprised if she was severely punished for it later. The thought made her blood run cold. The firebenders didn't take kindly to their captives acting out, or showing any evidence of being an actual human being, really. There was no hope of forgiveness for her, not when they were all already on such thin ice to begin with.

The low, shaking sound of footsteps in the hallway jarred Meisaki from her speculations. Speak of the devil. They were coming to deal with her, she was absolutely positive of it. It was just her luck for that arrogant man to be an aristocrat of some sort, which multiplied her offense about ten times over. Honestly, his ludicrous behaviour would never fly in the real world. Maybe in fantasy land, where he seemed to live, that sort of thing was okay, but she would not put up with it. Really, she was doing him a favour, teaching him how to deal with reality. She liked to think of it more like that.

The heavy, steel door creaked open with a sound like a stuck pig that drilled into Meisaki's eardrums. Light spilled into the room from the outside, where freedom kept itself just out of her reach. Meisaki pulled her knees up to her chest, clutching them to her so tightly that it nearly stopped the airflow into her lungs. At the very least, she would make them drag her out of that cell. She would fight them.

With a slow arch, the door swung toward her and a tall figure stepped through the opening, their form shadowed by the intensity of the light behind them. They paced forward, almost cautiously, it seemed, and rounded off to face her fully.

Meisaki locked eyes with the dark-haired fire nation man who was the reason she was behind bars to begin with.

He was fairly young, no more than twenty something, and there was a softness to his face that was not readily apparent in any of the other fire nation generals. His mahogany-coloured hair was pulled into a loose ponytail at the base of his neck and his eyes were trained on her crouching form with some emotion floating inside them that she couldn't quite place . . . curiosity, perhaps? She wasn't quite sure about that one, but she did know that this man could have no good reason for coming to her cell block. If Meisaki had to guess, she would say he had probably come to her to either scold, punish, or some combination of the two.

The waterbender pushed her back against the corner she had tucked herself into like a caged animal, not taking her gaze away from the general for even a second. The two of them stared in silence for several long moments, and to Meisaki they seemed to go on forever. Her whole body was tense and relying solely on animal instinct, and they remained there, trapped in each other's eyes, until the man finally broke the charged air between them.

"Ah – Hello," he stuttered, a gesture that would almost have been endearing, had it not been for the fact that Meisaki did not trust him in the slightest. As if to confound the waterbender even more, though, the general then lowered himself onto the glacier floor without ever once removing his eyes from her. She shrunk back away from the firebender, sinking further into the shadows.

"Oh, right," he breathed, his deceptively-innocent eyes widening. With a low bow, or as low as you could manage while sitting, the strange man addressed Meisaki with formality that she definitely hadn't seen in a long time.

"I'm sorry," he disclosed, meeting her eyes sincerely. "For earlier, that is. I was incredibly rude."

Meisaki was taken aback. Had he really just apologized to her? A Fire Nation general? She must be dreaming. She must have finally lost her mind. This must be some kind of fantasy land because there was no way that had just happened. It just wasn't possible. Her disgust and disbelief must have been stark across her face, because the man seemed to find something in her expression amusing.

"Honestly," he pressed, inching closer to the bars that separated them. The action only forced Meisaki back further into herself. The man's soft voice did nothing to soothe her tensions or stop the pins and needles that bristled in her spine at the sight of him.

"Why don't we start over?" the firebender suggested, then – worst of all to Meisaki – offered a clean, pampered hand through the space in between the bars. "My name is Asoka Takahashi."

Meisaki stared in revulsion at the offending limb, leaning heavily against the wall as she avoided getting anywhere near the general. She would not stoop so low as to touch someone like him. She knew just how many lives those dirt-free hands had ended, and she wanted no part in that. She would die before taking his hand.

The firebender frowned, something almost like genuine sadness washing over his gentle features. He let his hand hang there in the empty air for just a moment longer before taking it back reluctantly. A disappointed smile fell on his face.

"I really am sorry."

He bowed once more before finally exiting the chamber – though slowly and painstakingly – and finally leaving her in peace.

When Asoka went the next day to visit the woman, there was blood in the cell.

The fresh, vivid crimson liquid dappled the otherwise sterile floor, smeared in areas while entirely untouched in others. Asoka staggered backward.

"What happened?"

He had gasped it – aloud – without the thought of really talking to anybody. It wasn't until after speaking that he realized there was somebody there, in the cell.

The waterbender's eyes sliced into him, poisonous and accusing. She withdrew further into herself, pulling her bruised and bloodied legs to her chin. The dim chamber was damp, and it reeked of death. Asoka approached the bars less carefully than before, dropping onto his knees without a second thought to his expensive clothing.

"Who did this to you?" he demanded.

The girl said nothing, but stared at him with an undeniably scandalized expression, her mouth slack and hanging open, as if she couldn't believe what he was saying to her. Her cobalt eyes, blue as they were, were practically engulfed in a fire that threatened to burn right through him. It seemed that his question had provoked something inside the girl – judging by the way her fists curled up and her delicate jaw tightened – but he couldn't figure why.

Asoka gripped the bars urgently, causing the waterbender to flinch like an abused animal. That reaction only frustrated him more. He stared at her seething form for a long time, trying to reason what motive somebody could have for hurting her like this. She looked terrible. Whoever it was, they had done a number on the poor thing. She had gashes and bruises on her arms and legs that would last for weeks – months, some of them. A few bad ones may never go away.

But it didn't make any sense. The fire guards were the only ones who could get into her cell for anything. No one else had a key. But if that was the case, then . . .

Slowly, it dawned on Asoka.

"This," he started, choking on the words. "This is my fault."

She raised her chin up at him, her eyes like steel.

Of course. So stupid of him not to realize. Of course, they would have been obligated to discipline her. He had been too busy staring at her, in all her goddess-like glory, that he hadn't considered this inevitable possibility. She had doused him in cold water, yesterday – an act of complete disrespect, though he didn't feel like the one who was being disrespected, here. His title as a Fire Nation general was something that he often forgot existed, but the palace guards certainly remembered it, and – illogical as his guilt was – his conscience was screaming at him that he was the cause of this, and spirits he had better do something about it.

Without another word, Asoka shoved himself off the cold, stone floor and left.

Meisaki realized pretty quick that this guy, this Asoka Takahashi, was a freak.

He was psychotic, out of his mind, off the deep end, an absolute lunatic. Something in his head was broken. He had more than a couple of screws loose. Cogs up in there just weren't meshing together right. All of that. Because the last time she checked, firebenders – evil, heartless firebenders – did not try to nurse their prisoners back to health with supplies they clearly stole from the medical area in the palace.

Meisaki realized that, now, watching in bewilderment as this nutty firebender waved a roll of gauze around in her face, trying with all his heart to convince her to come forward and let him patch her up.

. . .

What?

Did he think she was born yesterday? What could he possibly hope to gain from helping her? He would probably just hurt her like the others had once she let herself be close enough for him to reach. She wasn't stupid. She knew he wasn't going to help her. Besides, she really doubted that he had any kind of medical training. He would probably only make her wounds worse, even if he did mean to mend her. He clearly had no way of reaching her as long as those bars stood, so she was going to stay right where she was.

Meisaki huffed irritably and glared at the general. He was running his mouth – still trying to persuade her – but she had long since stopped listening. Honestly, she had been so relieved when he had left. She thought, foolishly, that he had been satisfied with her punishment and would finally leave her alone. But of course that wasn't the case. That would have been too easy. Now, he was here, bothering her to the brink of insanity and spirits he was so persistent.

"Look at it this way, my lady." Meisaki frowned. He had taken to calling her that. "This will weigh on my conscience forever if I can't do something about it."

She wanted to tell him to screw his conscience. As if he had one, anyway. She didn't know what kept him so adamantly down there, on the floor, begging her to let him bandage her damn scratches, but it was not a conscience, and it was seriously starting to get on her nerves. She had been giving the man the silent treatment like a seasoned expert, but it was getting harder and harder not to open her mouth and just tell him off.

"We're both going to be very upset if you get an infection, lady."

Meisaki ground her teeth together. Just how much longer could he keep this up? They both had to sleep eventually. Would he keep her up all night, as well? Would he lie down and sleep in that cell next to her? On a freezing, unforgiving floor, covered in her blood? Would he wake up the next morning and start the whole thing over? Didn't he have anything better to do with his time? The more she thought about it, the more her curiosity and sheer annoyance fought to pry her mouth open.

"Come on," he implored. "I have a basin of water right here to clean your wounds. You could easily use that to stop me if I were to try anything." She blinked. She hadn't noticed the water, before. Her anger-driven tunnel vision had only allowed her to focus on General Asoka, leaving her blind to the lesser details of the world around her. He was right. She could easily use her waterbending against him.

"I can't say I would mind getting it a second time," the firebender mused. Meisaki gawked at him. He really was insane. Asoka heaved a sigh.

"Look, my lady," he started. Meisaki's nose scrunched up in irritation. "You and I both know that the other guards aren't even going to think about doing this." He took the bars, again, leaning in close. If Meisaki focused hard enough, she could almost swear she felt his body heat seeping into her otherwise-frigid cage. He locked eyes with her.

"I'm just trying to help."

Meisaki fell, then. She fell right into that steel trap of a voice, with those honey-coloured, believe-me eyes and that stupid lost-puppy expression and that absolutely awful ambush mind of his, and something about it all unhinged her jaw just long enough for her to screw up.

"If I let you treat my wounds, will you leave me alone?"

The terms of her agreement were out, then, and there was nothing in the whole world that she could do to take them back. To make it worse, the man lit up like a firework. Something about the sound of her voice made him beam, and Meisaki kind of wanted to be sick. After all, she had just made the biggest mistake you could make: trusting a firebender. What would her friends think? Spirits, what would her father think? If anyone from her village found out what she had just agreed to . . . she really didn't want to think about it.

"I give you my word, my lady," Asoka promised, throwing a hand over his heart for good measure.

Meisaki nodded once, stiffly. Her body became a coiled spring as she rose up off the murky floor, painstakingly, her sharp eyes trained on the general's kneeling form. He watched her. He watched her the way a dying man watches the sky when he knows he'll never see it again. What could she make of that? She couldn't figure out his motives, and it was driving her insane. Still, though, she ghosted toward him, pale enough to be considered a spirit and certainly starved enough to be halfway dead, anyway.

When her toes nearly touched the bars, she paused, looking down on the firebender for a moment. It was almost funny, the situation – this noble, about to care for a meager prisoner like her. Meisaki might have laughed, if she wasn't so uneasy. The nerves kind of overshadowed her sense of humour. Still carefully, she lowered herself in front of him until their eyes were level.

Asoka reached behind him, very slowly as well – because he seemed to know that she would react to the slightest jolt – and took a damp washrag out of the water bucket, extending his hand to her for the second time in the past day.

This time, Meisaki took it.

His skin was like fire. Her fingertips were scorched the instant they made contact, and she almost jerked her hand back from sheer surprise. Asoka had her like a broken bird, barely touching her at all, but she felt the flames as they went up around the two of them.

Then, he did something; something strange and startling and a little bit crazy. He pulled her hand – filthy, caked in blood, fingernails chipped from just surviving and bitten down to the skin – pulled it through the bars dividing them and pressed his lips to the back of her fingers, like she was a damn princess.

That was it. He was really insane.

And maybe she was, too, because, no matter how hard she tried after that to be grossed out by the gesture, she couldn't. She should have been – oh, she definitely should have been revolted – but she wasn't. And she didn't know what that meant, only that it probably wasn't good.

In a flash of gold and brown, the moment was over, and Asoka Takahashi had his palm underneath her forearm and was cleaning out her cuts ever so gently with the pristine, spotless towel that he had slung over his shoulder, humming to himself like nothing had happened.

Spirits, the water felt so nice on her burning skin. Even though it stung a little bit from where she had been beaten by the guards, it was just such a relief to be near water that she hardly noticed the pain. The temperature of the liquid lifted the hair on her arms, and she found herself sighing inadvertently. In some ways, being deprived of water was worse than being deprived of food, deprived of oxygen. She'd felt dehydrated for weeks, now, like she could just crumble into dust and blow away.

"Better?" Asoka inquired, smirking a bit.

Meisaki said nothing, but watched him work. He started with her right forearm. Once all her gashes and scrapes were sufficiently blood-and-dirt-free, he started wrapping the bandages around them. She had to admit, she looked a heck of a lot better, already, and she found herself relaxing involuntarily the longer he went on bandaging her wounds. It was just frustratingly soothing, and she honestly hated herself for it.

It seemed like no time at all before he was finished with her right arm, and then her left. Getting her legs treated was a bit more difficult and a lot more awkward because of how she had to sit. She nearly bit Asoka's head off when he tried to clean the dirt off of her at that point, insisting that he let her do it, herself. She could deal with him patching her legs up, but anything beyond that was just too . . . personal. Besides, her waterbending made the job a whole lot quicker and easier.

She thought, after that, that he was finally done, and she was about to retreat back into the safety of her dark corner, when Asoka caught her by the wrist. His grip was light and flimsy, giving her the option to break away if she wanted to. Meisaki almost did. She almost smacked him right there for daring to touch her without asking, but, once again – for reasons she couldn't even explain to herself – she just . . . didn't.

Asoka pulled her close to the bars – far too close to him – and she held her breath, not quite sure what to do. He smiled bafflingly, dipping the small washcloth into the freezing water again and bringing it up to her cheek.

"One more," he hummed, smiling like . . . like he wasn't a firebender and she wasn't a waterbender and their worlds weren't entirely separated by an immeasurable number of atrocities.

All she could do was stare as he grazed his washcloth-covered thumb across her face, nose to nose with her and nothing to separate them but the steel bars of the prison she was crammed into. Meisaki didn't understand. She didn't know what was going on or why it was happening to her or how she was expected to feel about it. Everything that had happened, and she would never have been able to predict this; not in a million years.

"Well, that's that," he announced quietly, a bit too soon, setting his supplies aside. "I'll see you later, then."

He made to leave, gathering up his things and walking little clumsily toward the door, and Meisaki was torn. She was caught, suspended somewhere between wanting to thank him and wanting to win her little internal battle of ignoring him. She hated him, after all. He was everything she despised in the world and then some, and Meisaki had no pity or compassion for the likes of a general of the Fire Nation.

But even as she thought that, she didn't believe it. Growling low under her breath, Meisaki made the second of her horrible mistakes for the day.

"Meisaki."

Asoka turned in the open door, light pouring in around his frame like some kind of freaking angel. She pursed her lips, second guessing herself.

"What was that, my lady?" he asked, suspended in the halo of light, completely and blissfully unaware of what chaos was wrecking her mind. Meisaki gathered up her wits, fighting down the strong nausea that accompanied putting your trust in a firebender.

"Meisaki Hotaru," she repeated, her voice a bit stronger, this time. It seemed to finally dawn on Asoka when he beamed in her direction, nodding quietly.

"Goodnight, Meisaki."

Then, he left, and she hoped that would be the end.

A-B-S-T-R-A-C-T-I-O-N

A/N: So, the next two or so chapters will finish off Meisaki and Asoka's story, and then we're off to the world on the surface with Kaida and Zuko to find the avatar! Woo!

Don't forget to read and review!