deception
. helium lost .
Author's Notes: Random idea. I thought it was cute, at least. Anyway, this is still pretty much a rough draft, so feel free to point out any inconsistencies, errors, etc. That said, let's get on with the show :) Enjoy!
Disclaimer: Avatar: The Last Airbender © Nickelodeon and the others involved in the making and distribution of it. I'm just a teeny little fan. :)
Soft, almost caressing vibrations—rustling grass to her left. A touch, hardly noticeable, coming from her right—a trail of ants. Sweet, gentle trills—dandelions around her, shedding their white seeds like blind tears. Was it a full moon tonight, or was it a crescent moon? She wasn't sure, though if she opened her eyes wide enough, she could imagine that the darkness she saw was just a tiny bit brighter.
A fwump sound following a slight rush of air; a soft thump on the ground beneath her. Aang, no doubt about it. She felt vibrations spreading upward from his body, and guessed that he'd lain down beside her. A moment's silence. She could hear him breathing, and it annoyed her—she wanted to hear the grass rustle, the leaves dance, not some idiot breathing next to her.
"What do you want?" she said, finally. Her voice was rough and edgy, and it came out harsher than she had intended. She instinctively tensed up, her body tightening. Aang posed no threat, though, but even then, this instinct took over her.
"Nothing," he replied, unfazed. She could feel him smiling, though she couldn't explain how—the atmosphere was different than from when she was alone; there was a sort of warmth emanating from beside her. A warmth almost like the sun's.
She rolled over onto her side, her back to him. "Then go away and stop bugging me," she said, even though he hadn't really done anything. It was just that—he was so cheerful, so bubbly, yet all of that could be so easily dispersed with just one harsh word. And she—she was stubborn and hardheaded. Throw a million harsh words at her, and she wouldn't flinch.
It was hard to believe that she and Aang were the same age.
"Oh… I don't know," he said. "I came out here 'cause I wanted to look at the stars, and this is the best spot, I'd say. Everywhere else is covered with trees or something else blocking the sky."
She felt a pang of something almost like regret, almost like longing, prick her in the heart, but she dismissed it quickly. She didn't need anyone to think that she was weak; she didn't need people thinking that Toph—the mighty Earthbender—was interested in something silly and prissy, like stars. She sighed heavily, then dropped her eyes. Dark, dark, dark. Everywhere she looked or tried to look, it was dark…
"Stars, huh," she muttered. She traced a finger through the grass beside her.
"Yep!" Aang chirped. "Reminds me of an old friend I had—he'd always be stuck inside, studying astronomy for whatever-odd reason, and whenever I tried to get him to come outside to play, he'd always shoo me off and say, 'No! I have too much homework!' Which was funny, because he was a year younger than me, yet he acted ten years older. In the end, though, I don't really think it did him any good—I mean, he could name every constellation in the sky, but it was like they were just some collection, and he couldn't really see them, if you know what I mean?"
Toph stiffened. "No, actually, I don't know what you mean," she said coldly. She felt the smile drop from Aang's face. A colder spot beside her now. Shuffling—he'd sat up, and was leaning on his elbow. Or maybe his staff—probably his elbow, though.
"I—I didn't mean it like that," he said quickly. He sounded truly apologetic, but she remained silent.
"Really, I mean, I was just—well, I was—"
"Excuses, excuses," she muttered, then got up. She took a few steps forward, then turned around suddenly and jabbed a finger at him. "You're always filled with excuses, aren't you? Never straightforward, never accepting blame or responsibility. You always want to escape, and you never face things head-on. You're a wimp, that's what you are. A wimp!"
She sat down again, cross-legged, her back to his. He seemed diminished, somehow. Maybe it was his chi; he seemed to have much less energy now. She heard nothing except for the breezes passing by her and the faint, distant call of a bird. Maybe she'd been a little too harsh. After all, it wasn't as if she resented being blind. In fact, she rather liked this existence—when she fought, the opponents' feints didn't work on her, and her reactions were much faster than her opponents'. But sometimes…
She sighed. "What are the stars like?"
A pause. "What do you mean?" A dejected voice, like cold mist to her ears.
"What are they like, numbskull? What do they look like?"
"Oh." Another pause. "Like bright, sparkling eyes."
"Eyes?"
"Yeah. The eyes of—our ancestors, maybe. Watching us. They never really leave us, you know. A part of them remains inside all of us; we're never alone."
She frowned. "Nonsense. You die, you die. Nothing else happens."
She could sense him shrug his shoulders. "Maybe for you. Or maybe it's just because I'm the Avatar—I have bits of the other Avatars all inside me."
"I guess."
Another pause. She heard a small creature scamper by—a mouse, maybe? She closed her eyes and slowly found herself breathing more slowly, more rhythmically; she was gently easing into slee—
"What do the stars sound like?"
She awoke with a jolt. "You can't hear stars, idiot."
"I know—at least, I know I can't. But you—your hearing is amazing. I'm sure you can hear them."
She rolled her eyes.
"Come on, just try it."
A glimmer of warmth. She gave in, and closed her eyes, listening hard. Amidst the sound of leaves rubbing against each other, grass weaving together and apart, animals moving, birds chirping, she heard a soft, soft sound—hardly noticeable at first; she strained with every ounce of energy she had, focusing in on the sound. It was familiar—the rise and fall of it; the sweetness of it, filling her every pore—it teased her, trailing itself along her skin, peering in and out of her ears.
"So?" Aang said, breaking her out of her reverie. "Did you hear anything?"
"Yes," she said suddenly. "It sounds like laughter."
"Laughter? I thought they'd sound sparkly or something." He laughed. Toph jumped up.
"Yes, yes, like that! That's exactly what the stars sound like."
He stopped abruptly. "Me?" She could almost imagine him pointing to himself.
"Yes, you, you dimwit!" she said. "Like your laughter. Shining, happy, boundless, beautiful."
"…Oh. Wow."
"Stupid," she said, then sat down again, back to him. After she strained so much to hear the stars, all he could say was, "Oh, wow." She tried to imagine him saying it. An incredulous, disbelieving expression on his face, pointing to himself, jaw dropped open. But though she could imagine his expression, she couldn't see his face—she knew how he moved, about how tall he was, what he sounded like, what his expressions were probably like, but she couldn't see him.
"Aang…" she said, hesitantly.
"What?"
She turned to face him. "What do you look like?"
Another pause. "Well, uh, I'm bald and I have blue arrows all over me?"
Toph rolled her eyes. "Come here, you imbecile." Aang scooted close to her, apprehensively. She reached out and her fingers touched his cheeks. She groped around awkwardly for a moment, as if to get a grip on something. Then, she traced her fingers along the curves of his ears, then circled in to touch his forehead, his eyes, his nose, his mouth… She felt his face warming up as she traced carefully along his cheeks—was he blushing? She couldn't be sure. She also felt his head withdrawing a bit—backing up, for some reason. And she felt his cheeks tighten, stretch a bit—was he opening his mouth? What was he doing? His nose appeared to be twitching a bit, too, and—
"Ah-choo!"
Toph was sent flying backward from Aang's enormous sneeze; she was lifted up by the gust of wind, then crashed into the tree behind her. She slid down the trunk until she was plopped on the ground again, tiny splinters caught on the fabric of her clothing.
"Sorry!" Aang called out. She wasn't sure how far she'd been thrown back, but judging by his call, she seemed to have been thrown back quite a bit—twenty, thirty feet, maybe. She heard him trotting over to him, and felt him kneel beside her. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," she said. She continued in a honeyed voice, falsely sweet, "And, you know what? You don't look as stupid as I thought you would."
"Oh?" Aang said.
"Yeah. You look stupider."
Author's Notes: Keep reviews diplomatic—I do prefer constructive criticism, though :) Do tell me if my ending "punchline" needs work; also, if you're going to criticize anything, I'd rather you focus on characterization. Thanks!