Six

How to be brave, how can I love when I'm afraid to fall?
But watching you stand alone, all of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow...

Sir Takeshi's face is grim and terrifying, but not the reason behind Sokka's twisted guts - lungs failing, organs squeezed (and he's pretty sure someone is chocking him on the moment because spirits, he can't breathe, he can't see, he can't think) and there is no armrest for him to grip himself from falling to the floor, succumbing to the earth's gravitational pull all at once - but he doesn't fall; just sits there, staring at the gloomy old man and hoping that everything is a big joke.

Takeshi's voice booms again in his head - but this time, he hears something big shatters and he thinks it might be his heart.

"Tarro is dead."

Take a deep breath now. Okay. Okay. Exhale. Where was he this morning - about half an hour ago? Think.

(Think!)

Where was he - he was walking down the stairs, and he was ready for a jog. He remembers the sound of his boots thumping against the steps, hears his own thoughts on the morning about something random, feels the ache that bit on his muscles, urging for an exercise. He remembers noting that he'll go to the Central Arena this afternoon for a quick sparring.

He's moving down and he's descending the stairs and he looked on the living room and he saw Zuko - and he remembers Zuko; his hair all tied up in the official knot, a Fire Prince's crown in place. His costume all broody and red and big and there's bunch of scrolls by his laps as he sat at the couch that could fit three person (maybe more), and he remembers his mouth moving, asking - "Why aren't you at the Breakfast Meeting?"

Sokka barely could make up what happened next - he thinks Zuko shrugged his shoulders at his question, saying something about it being cancelled - because all he could remember next was his feet and his own beating heart and him running against the cold wind, in the snow and him, alone, content and safe.

And now where is he? Where is he?

(where are you now, Sokka?)

He was coming back from the jog, and there's no sweat trickling down his face. But his chest heaved and he was levelling his breathing and he was walking back to the lodge and - and -

He saw the Councilmen. All lining up and judging his friends and Zuko was staring at them with a stern face, almost as if in challenge. Katara was standing - her head hung low sadly, her jaw strained - and she was standing more towards the Men than by Zuko. There's Iroh, and he was standing next to his nephew and Sokka remembers Sir Takeshi's harsh, low tone when he finally noticed his presence, how he urged them all to go inside.

And - and - what.

What happened next? What's happening now?

"Tarro is dead."

Tarro is dead. There it is. That's what's happening, right? What happened. He's sitting here at the same couch Zuko was sitting and he's facing the Councilmen and he's in the middle, Azula by his left side, Aang by his right side (and Zuko sits by Azula's other side) and the air is still and something is breaking, rushing, collapsing and -

He remembers Tarro's blue eyes. The tattoo he had running down behind his ear to his neck. A remembrance of war. He thinks he's snorting because remembrance of war? More like trying to cover the scar that run along the line on his skin; "Like an air-serpent," Tarro hissed about the shape of his deep scar when he first showed it to him. "An ugly one."

(shh. close your eyes now. close your - )

"I'm going to be an uncle, Sokka. I'm going to be a - "

(what do you see, oh my lonely warrior)

"A knife through the brain."

(shut up. just ... shut up)

"It's insanity."

Sokka opens his eyes and blinks back, realising how dry his lips are and the loose grip Aang has on his arm. He turns to Aang but his gaze are on the floor and his head is reeling and he just feels lost - and he wants to say that "It's okay. I'm okay. I'll be fine." But no words come out and he just ends up staring right ahead again. "Wha - what do you mean?" His voice is raspy and not him, "He was just fine a day ago."

"How was he killed?" Zuko asks, his voice is more commanding than anything.

Sir Takeshi shot the Prince a brief glare, before his eyes linger on the Princess. "Guess," he drawls, slowly moving his line of sight to Sokka.

"What does that mean?" Toph scoffs aloud.

Suddenly, besides him, Sokka feels the way the Princess' body jumps when she snorts, and he drifts his eyes quickly to catch the way Azula rolls her eyes - her face once again missing the 'crazy' element she's supposed to have, and instead is replaced with the 'devious' Princess that's hungry for blood, and even more hungry for the royal throne - "Obviously the man met the same tragic end as his colleague. If what you're intending to do is to blame it all on me, then I won't stop you. But leave the Water Tribe Boy alone. You know very well he's not a murderer and the guard was his friend."

Sokka feels surprised - despite the fact he's certain his whole body has just stop functioning - that Azula has spoken more than four words (let alone four sentences!) to someone who's out of the Gaang. That's an accomplishment - if he isn't where he is and how he is in the moment, Sokka would definitely note it down and pats Azula on the back.

Sir Takeshi's glare sharpens, "What I know is that Tarro was very much concerned over your relationship with Warrior Sokka."

Remembering the conversation he has with Tarro pulls something inside of Sokka and more waves of memories begin to engulf his head that it comes to the point where breathing becomes a difficult task. He closes his eyes and and tries to calm his mind down (remember pretty stuff, cute stuff, funny stuff, Momo) and concentrates again in the discussion (confrontation?) in front of him.

Azula sounds annoyed - and bored. "Relationship?"

Zuko stands straighter, his posture screaming that he's in the defence mood (of him, or his sister - Sokka isn't sure) and he looks like he's a minute away from pouncing straight at the Head of the Men. "Sokka and my sister has done nothing to disgrace their honour."

Toph actually snickers, "Dude? Seriously? Are we still on that 'honour' phase?" Okay, he can't help it. He actually smiles at that.

"It has come to my knowledge that the bruises on his wrist are your doing, Princess." Sir Takeshi never once let his gaze drifts away from the Fire Princess - the title still sounds like a poison dripping from his mouth.

Unconsciously, Sokka pulls on his sleeve, now frowning. "No. And how did you even know all of these?"

"Tarro may or may not came to us when he realised that there was no other place to ... express his worry." Sir Takeshi answers smoothly, eyes hard on Sokka. With one glance towards Sir Jing-Jen, the bulk man stalks orderly to Sokka and shoves the sleeves further up, exposing the bruised pattern across his wrist. Against the bigger man's strength, and the shock state he's in, Sokka is powerless and faces away as his hand is being lifted up for all to see. "And would you care to explain where else would you have gotten these wounds, Warrior?"

"It was me," admits Azula, her face calm and her dark brows furrow. "Had I meant him harm, he'd no longer be with us this very moment. I'm still adjusting to dealing with... other people in a more appropriate manner. It was not on purpose." She turns her head towards him, expression as serious as ever. "The event will not repeat itself again."

What? Won't repeat itself again as in "no touching" ever again? Well, there goes the slight development in their relationship! He shakes his head, just subtlety as he tries to pull his wrist from the gross man who's holding it, "Just... be careful, next time, kay?"

Azula makes this head gesture that resembles a nod (is it a nod, though? It's too quick - he can't be sure) when Toph speaks up again, "Okay. Yeah. This dude came to you and complain about whatever, but how does this place Snoozles and Royal Maniac as the killer?"

"It's a fascinating coincidence," observes Takeshi, now eyeing Katara. "Much like where the crime was committed."

"Where?" Zuko grits his teeth.

Takeshi now has his eyes set on Sokka, "A little north from here, at the cliff over-viewing the horizon of the sea." He turns to Katara, "Maybe you could describe it better, my dear?"

"It's - " Katara looks ashamed, but she meets Sokka's eyes anyway. "It's Mom's place, Sokka."

"No," Sokka shakes his head. "It can't be."

Katara doesn't deny her brother, "His body is found lying down, with his back on the snow. Like the previous body, it's burned except for the face – the same insignia on his forehead."

Sokka literally feels his stomach sinking in as his back thud back against the couch, imagining Kya's place now having a dead body lying out of nowhere. Feeling how that sacred place is now tainted with blood, burned skin and dead, cold eyes. All staring back at him –

He grits his teeth quickly – get a fucking grip, Sokka.

"You don't look surprised, Princess. Is there something you might want to tell us?" Sir Futoshi speaks up, his eyes narrowing dangerously towards the Fire Princess.

"What are you trying to imply… sir?" Azula snaps back, and though her exterior is calm and perfect, Sokka could detect there's a storm (a storm of all things not good) building inside of her.

"Oh we're not idiots," hisses Futoshi again. "We knew you two went on a little date there last night!"

"I knew it!" Toph shouts, now glowering. "You are spying on us."

"Well, that shouldn't be a new founding, now should it? A loose, raging, unstable Princess are out here on the hands of children," Futoshi now glares on fully at Toph, spitting every damn word. "Only mad men would just sit back and do nothing."

"Futoshi," Takeshi intones, sending one of the infamous glare that Sokka's sure could send a dead man back to his grave, and watches as Futoshi stands his ground, nods his head shamefully and stands back with the rest of the Men. Takeshi stares back at them, wearing an expressionless mask, "I could hardly say a Fire Prince and an Avatar are just children."

Truer words have never been spoken and yet, Sokka feels like the old man is just mocking them.

"So, what, are you not apologising for that or something? I mean, you must know what you're doing is a complete invasion of privacy and totally, without a doubt, a creepy thing to do." Toph spats again.

"I guess I do owe you at least that," there's a subtle growl in Takeshi's voice - but other than glaring, he's not doing anything that can officially give Sokka a legitimate reason to pull out his knife. "On a more serious note, though. Katara?"

Katara suddenly bends out a plastic full of snow. With a strained voice, she says, "Here's the snow we've collected from the scene of the crime. Sir Futoshi wants you… to examine it." She sounds like she isn't sure, but the snow lands on the coffee table in front of them and Sokka gingerly takes hold of it. He passes it to the Fire Princess, who has the tip of her hands brushing with his.

At the sudden sensation from the contact, Sokka pulls his hand quickly, "That's worse than the porch!" he says; now feeling the tingling feeling of needles pricking on his skin. He kisses it while his eyes flutter to watch Azula taking it, eyes hard in concentration. He hums under his breath, as the slight peppermint sensation is finally tasted.

"What happened?" Katara asks, her shoulders jumping and her eyes wonder to Sokka's fingers.

"Bending signature, I believe." Takeshi responds in an bored tone. "He was just experiencing it because the Princess has allowed him to feel it, through her. Nothing to worry about."

"I-is, is this harmful?" Katara shrieks worriedly.

"I don't think so..." the old man's voice floats, raising a brow to Sokka while he shakes his head to his sister, assuring her.

"Do you recognize it?" Takeshi has his eyes flicking back to the Fire Princess, his question almost appears desperate.

"No." Is Azula's answer, her eyes tell of how disinterested she is.

"What - what is a bending signature?" Zuko suddenly yelps.

"I thought that was a myth," says Iroh thoughtfully. "If I'm not wrong, it's when your bending leaves ... a trail of their bending 'scent' onto a place when it is used in a large portion. It takes only highly concentrated, well-focused people to become a full master of - "

"Well then, Uncle." Azula snaps, "It won't be a surprise if it's me who has come to master it, won't it?"

"Arrogance, my niece. It will help you nowhere," chuckles Iroh. "But if I may, a question; where do you learn such a thing?"

There's a beat of pain that passes over Azula's face, Sokka notices, but the only thing she's doing is flopping the snow sample back on the table, "Ursa."

"Ah," is all Iroh responds with, a blissful expression crossing his eyes.

"Enough. Princess, of the signature. There must be more to it, I hope? Well, as your boy said the other day; 'you must know something'." Futoshi declares, raising a brow in challenge.

Sokka's about to open his mouth to bite back an answer (while he's still stupid enough to do it) when Azula cuts him to it, "He is no boy but his own person, and you are fully aware of my condition, of my memory." He notices how she doesn't say bending, but memory.

"So I've been told." He darts his eyes lazily back to the rest of the group, before his attention lands back on the Princess again. "If you didn't do it, then who did?"

"I. Don't. Know." There's anger now behind her golden eyes and Sokka could see the furrow between her brows – how it deepens, and it starts to feel even more threatening.

"I don't believe you."

"I'm hurt," replies Azula dryly, her head tilts slightly to the side, her gaze sharpening.

Takeshi merely rolls his eyes, drawling, "Whoever kills these guards leave a bending signature all over the crime scene, right?"

The Fire Princess nods, "As I've said before, it's familiar but I can't place from where… or what."

There's a 'tsk' that comes out from the old man's mouth as he straightens his posture back, eyes drowning with disbelief as it rests on the Fire Princess. "Well I suggest you find a way to jog your memory – and make it quick if you will, Princess," he says, mockingly, and stares back in a grave expression.

"You can't just ask her to do that," Zuko tells it in behalf of his sister, who seems to be vibrating more in anger and alerting everyone of her on-coming temper.

Sokka sniffs, and cringes at the scent of peppermint wafting through the air; a pissed-off form of it, of course, where the spice is more than the actual mint is. He observes the Princess carefully, silently noting the way her shoulders squares, her fingers clench in her fists and the way her brother's pleading voice just doesn't get to her anymore. "Hey, Mad Princess. You okay, right? You're not going to… You're too much of a genius for that."

He purses his mouth when there's no respond – not a scowl, not a gaze – when he nudges her. Taking a deep inhale of breath, he remembers of her vow not to hurt him, or whatever version it is from Azula's dictionary, and decides to grab her hand.

Now, full-on skin contact, Sokka bites his lips when the power eats on his arm, spreading on his body almost too quickly that he feels his body falling sideway until Aang reaches up and steady him. Zuko's on his feet now, alarmed, "Are you alright?"

He breathes out slowly as he adjusts to the sudden power – that feels as if there's real, angry fire eating on his veins from the inside – and nods his head helplessly, trying to leer up an easy smile, "Yeah, it was just… It was a rush."

"That was very dangerous, Sokka," Aang whispers worriedly, gripping hard on him now.

"Seriously though," Sokka nods at the Avatar, feeling sad now that he has upset his young friend, "I can manage."

Azula stares at him wide-eyed, panic surges her expression for a moment before she settles back with a grim, tight-lined lips and harsh gaze while she takes back her hand from his hold. "Idiot." Eyes narrowing, her gaze drops to the floor, and Sokka knows she's back to become the 'broken Princess' everyone's talking about; the one who avoids human-contact at all cost.

He frowns.

"Now, if you're done dick-fencing, what else are you holding up, huh? 'Cause I know there's more to this meeting than just to drop us the bomb of a news." Toph snarls, frowning.

"Well, yes. With the second murder, we can no longer play pretence that everything is as it is," Takeshi hisses, taking a deep breath. "We will have you back to the Main Land." He announces, his voice clear and booming. "All of you - and this time, we will not tolerate with any of your arguments. The decision is final and you are to be on your way out of here before the sun reaches its peak."

"But - "

"A ship will be ready in a matter of few hours." Takeshi bows slightly, signalling the end of the discussion (or lack thereof). "I'll see you then."

Sokka stares at the floor for a long time, trying to sink the information in.

After a long while, he shudders and sighs, "I guess we're leaving."

"Mahalo, brah."

Sokka stares back at the now glassy-eyed Qu, who looks as if he's torn between punching a hole in the wall, sobs himself to death and humouring himself until he's sure nothing is wrong with the world. Mahalo, the word thuds like a distant echo and Sokka gives his friend a tight grin. It means thanks. "What for?"

"For everything," Qu mutters sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. "You're a great friend, Sokka."

Sokka barks out laughing - but feels the heat of tears threatening to fall by the lids of his eyes, "Wow. This must hit you harder than I thought."

"Yeah well," huffs out Qu, crossing his arms over his chest. "I've had enough people leaving me, a'right."

There's a longing look passing over his eyes and Sokka's laughter dies in his throat, his lips going dry again perhaps for the thousandth times that day. Everybody has been hurt from the War; a scar each of them carry if not on their flesh, then under it. Qu is not an exception. Sokka tightens his grip on his friend's shoulder, urging Qu to lift his chin up and they both smile - albeit sadly - before hugging each other.

Sokka lets out a hot breath of air, "You're a great friend too, Qu."

"Yeah," he answers sadly, pulling away. "Sappy doesn't suit us. Just stay safe."

"I will if you do."

"You bet."

"So, what - we're not going to prank our future Firelord?"

He shrugs his shoulders, "I guess not."

Tovakk shakes his head, a fake smile plasters across his face. "Oh, that's bad, then right? I was really expecting to, you know- "

"I'll come back soon, you know that right?"

Tovakk imitates the shrug he expressed a second ago, "the Main Land's a good place. I won't be surprised if you find yourself comfortable there."

Sokka doesn't disagree, "Just take care of yourself and Qu for me, okay?"

"Yeah," he nods. "Just, if you can, be back home soon alright. Qu's going to take over as the official heir of his family, and I'm sure he'd like it if you're the one who sits with him through the ceremony."

Sokka blinks, "Yeah. I-I almost forgot about that one - "

"Don't worry about it. That's like, a few months away or something. I'm sure you'll be home by then."

"I guess," Sokka nods, pursing his lips and staring at the snow; the guilt he has over forgetting the fact Qu has that to worry about distracting him - until Tovakk nodges him by the shoulder.

"Write to us, will you?"

"Of course."

"Good."

"You will be good over there, alright. I'll come soon. I'll be on board with Katara, and we'll... try to clean this whole mess up." Hakoda says, gripping on his son's shoulder as his eyes flick to the ships ahead - and Sokka dumbly notes about the increasing amount of wrinkles painting over his old man's face.

"I know how to handle myself, Dad." He nods his head, averting his eyes sideways as he holds harder on the strap of his make-shift bag.

Hakoda concentrates again on his son, an old, genuine smile spreads over his chapped lips. "Of course I know that, Sokka. Just... be good. And," he hesitates, "-and that Princess, if you're sure she's not the - "

"She's not."

Hakoda nods, "If you're certain, protect her."

Sokka snorts, rolls his eyes. "I think she can pretty much handle herself - "

"I don't mean it physically, Sokka."

He blinks back. "Okay," his mind reels again when he catches the Princess' figure boarding the ship, "Yeah. Okay. I understand."

"Remember Sokka. Remember who you are."

He promises Dad he won't forget.

"Katara remains here with Dad until they sort through the body completely - both of them, I guess - and they'll be joining us within the next three days. Toph and Aang flies away about half an hour ago. And, I guess, I'm tagging along with you."

Zuko nods, exhales and nods again. "Alright. Welcome aboard."

Sokka doesn't feel welcome and swallows, "I'll be in my room."

When it's lunch, Sokka refuses to go out. He just lies there on the bed, facing the ceiling, feeling the muscles on his body clenches and moves, his chest rising up and down, his heartbeat rates rise and slowing its pace; anything, really - to distract the weak mind of his from seeing himself looking over the porch of the lodge and seeing where Yuan's body is supposed to be but having replaced by Tarro's burned corpse instead.

He shut his eyes completely and forces his body to slump deeper into the bed; maybe I could blend in and disappear completely.

Yeah, he decides. That's a good idea.

Unfortunately, just before he could test his theory on blending it with his sheet and the mattress, there's a few hard knocks on his door that interrupts his thoughts and immediately sends him groaning loudly. This is the fourth time the guard has knocked his door to inform him that his lunch is getting cold. It's starting to get extremely annoying. "Go. Away!"

There's silence from the other side of the door until a strained, very familiar voice, replies back, "I'm afraid you can't get rid of me that easily, Water Tribe Boy."

Because he can't believe his ears, he quickly shuffles to his feet and stalks to open the door - confirming his suspicion when the Princess stands by his door; her brows furrowed slightly and her lips are set in a tight, straight line and in her hands are a tray of food. A fearful maid stands behind her, a matching set of tray filled with food in her hands too. "What are you - are you lost?"

The Fire Princess rolls her eyes, but doesn't meet his. "I'm... I thought it would be nice if we - " she grits her teeth and exhales loudly, "I brought lunch."

There's a faint smirk on his lips, "I can see that."

"Are you - do you wish to let me stand here all day then, Water Tribe Boy?"

"No, no, I just. Here, let me - " he reaches out to the maid and takes the tray - only now realising two mugs of Hot Cocoa on it - before gently thanking her and sending her away. "I don't expect you to... Isn't it beneath you to be concern over a water tribe savage?"

She narrows her eyes dangerously, "Beneath is an understatement," she says, a thumb flicking over the tray and he looks around momentarily, realising they must have not been very far because the air is still cold although the sight of any ice are barely in sight over the blue sea. "But I imagine my station, or whatever remains of it, can salvage this act of shame - perhaps even making me a better person."

"Ah, and isn't that the dream?" His joke is dry and his voice sounds false when his gaze falls back on this young woman in front of him. "I don't want to eat."

She flinches, but doesn't respond. Not after a while, that is, before she opens her mouth and stares right at him. "Please."

Sokka doesn't laugh, although in different circumstances he might have, and takes a step back; his left shoulder pushing the door to open wider and giving space for the Princess to enter. Her steps are graceful, he realises, when she's taking them - a solid, fast and swift moving of action. She puts her tray on the low table at the middle of the room and doesn't cringe at the way he leaves his bag around, a few of his stuff scattering about.

He doesn't shut the door completely, makes sure there's a guard standing by if anything happens, just because.

Setting the tray on the table, he watches the Princess across from him by the corner of his eyes, because he's pretty sure she's imaginary and not there in reality. She raises a brow and dares herself to gives him a quick gaze, "You might want to note that my head didn't explode in a million tiny pieces and release confetti."

Sokka can't hide his grin, "Funny."

She shrugs simply, placing her bowl of fish steadily. "I can heat the Hot Cocoa, if you wish."

"Yeah, that... would be helpful, thanks." He hands her one of the Hot Cocoa, and taking the other one nearer to her. She takes it without any hesitation and wraps her fingers around the mug. Her dark gaze set in a serious note, concentrating while Sokka begins to notice how his Hot Cocoa starts to release hot air. When she's done, she looks back up to him.

Sokka takes the Cocoa from her and gingerly sips on it. He doesn't comment that it needs to have just a little bit more sugar and she doesn't do anything besides from gradually lifting her chopsticks to take the first chew. He observes her and voices out, "Didn't you have lunch?"

She opens her mouth to say something before closing it up, and shaking her head - as if denying whatever thought she has in her mind. After that, she settles with a simple, "No."

"I can't say I'm not surprised on the fact that Zuko isn't here freaking out about your health or whatever."

"He has been informed that I will be having my lunch in the company of ... well, you." She says simply, like it's the most obvious statement in the whole world.

"Well that's good," he says distractedly, now playing with his chopstick. By the end of the meal, it's clear that she's eaten more than him - though she only sips about a quarter of her Hot Cocoa while he drinks his until the last drop. He entertains her for a while, about stupid stories of stuff when he's building the South Pole right after the war, scrapping through his memory box because it seems that he can't stop talking when he starts. It doesn't lessen the pain that's beating in his every muscle - in fact, it feels more like the stories just weigh more on him as he drags it on.

Azula never peeps up a single word - she'd let out a rare, small hint of a smile here and there when he mentions something hilarious, but other than that, she just listens (or maybe she's pretending to - it doesn't matter, really) - but she never indicates any sort of movement that she wants to be out of that room, and away from him.

It feels good, despite it all. Having her around feels good.

Towards the end of the story where he kinda just trails off, he's sitting besides her on the floor, by his bed and there's a few hand-made hair-tie, of which he keeps from when a bunch of native kindergartener makes it for him on the second Remembrance Day, on the floor and in between them. She's holding onto a hair-tie (his second-favourite one, actually) when she says, "You're in shock. You should rest."

"I'm not - "

He doesn't even realise his tears until it drops off from his chin and onto his right knuckles (and he watches it through glassy-view as it dribbles down his hand to his wrist and disappears from view and feels how the trail of his tears burnacross his skin). At the second strangled hiccup, he wants to run away or chase her away, but her hands are reaching out to him and then his shoulder drops and she's pulling him (he thinks), and then he has his face buried on her shoulders and she's holding him and he's trying to hold himself up and it's not fucking working.

He could smell her - that smell of a very-red rose that grows around Piandao's backyard garden (oh yes, he remembers) and a very vague peppermint scent - and then he thinks back about Yuan and Tarro and he cries for them (cry for what he can't do), and along those, he guesses, old pain just slips away too. The tips of her fingers are cold when it brushes the back of his neck before her hands are wrapped around his neck. His arms are big, he feels, when it envelops her small body and brings her closer - and he cries harder, because kindness from Azula is strange and leaves him even more... of a mess.

Vulnerable, exposed, raw.

He's a living wreck.

When his mortally ugly sobbing stops, he finally manages to control his breathing again and his tears start to feel like a whole bunch of bad ideas for breakfast. He's still hiccuping though when he slowly pulls away and cringes at the messy spot on her left shoulder, but she doesn't even look bothered when he studies her face. She doesn't say anything, but her hands are on his arms as she guides him to his warm bed, sitting him down properly.

She kneels down then, picks up every hair-tie by his feet and puts it back inside of his bag. She casts the bag aside simply and stands in front of him, and he tips his chin back up, daring to meet her eyes. Unconsciously, his hand creeps up and sweeps over the Princess' pale (cold) cheek until he reaches her dark bang, and tugging on it. When she flinches and tries to swaps his hand away, his face splits into a grin - a real, genuine one. "I'm sorry," is all he whispers, "I must be a stupid waste of your time."

"You're not stupid," she swats his hand away, her face grim. "If all goes well, we'll reach the Main Land right after sunset. But if not, I'll make certain the crew inform you of dinner."

"Yeah," he nods and slumps to his bed, hiding his face against the pillow. "That sounds good."

Can you stay? He wants to ask, but holds his tongue. He rolls his body, his back facing her and hears her hum in acknowledgement as she takes those solid and swift steps away. Swallowing, he voices out in hope she isn't ignoring him then, "Thanks."

The door shuts.

Exhausted, he falls asleep immediately afterwards.

5,187 words. Okay, yeah. I know lots of you must have a knife right by my throat right now but I do have an explanation on why there's a delay in my update. Keeping it short, all I could say is family matters come up and I wasn't able to avoid it. This... family issues will be going on for about until before Christmas, and therefore, I could not guarantee you a-week-in-between updates. By Christmas Eve, I think everything will be okay again and I can all give you a regular update (hopefully).

For Exoduss: I'm sorry that I didn't reach out for your help on this chapter because the mayhem that is my family starts bombing on my life and I can't find the time to just clear my head, properly send you a message, and idk, arrange something with you. But next chapter though - next chapter - I promise you, I'll have a chapter for you to proofread. I swear. I can't guarantee when, but - just wait for it.

As for everybody else, I wish I could reply to your reviews (and I really want to) but I'm already a mess right now and it's like, four in the morning and ugh. I'll have a proper chapter next time, I promise. But guys, before I end this author's note or something, I just wanna say that I come up with a SUGGEST-A-FLUFF COMPETITION. What is that, you ask me? Okay, so basically, there's this stupid ideas that I come up with, for you, the readers, to give me any scene you want me to put in this story based on the genre/topic I will be giving out.

Like this time around, you can give me a fluff scene that could fit in with the story in the up-coming chapters. Eg: "Sokka and Azula going out for a walk and stumble upon..." or "Azula teaches Sokka to..." or "Someone teases Sokka and Azula..." etc, etc. It doesn't necessarily need to be super serious (because the whole genre of this story is, yeah, i know, pretty serious), I mean, they can have a short, cute moment if I want them to. Andddd the most interesting suggestion will have a scene in one of my chapters (not like I'll just desert the rest of the ideas, of course). So, if you have any fluff suggestion, just go ahead - type it out in the review and tell me.

If you have any question about this suggest-a-fluff competition, don't be afraid to reach out to me through PM, or my tumblr ask. And if you simply have no idea for a fluff, just wait for another round of this suggest-a-something competition 'cause maybe the next time I'll have you suggesting a sad scene, or an action scene, or an embarrassing one.

Anyway, thank you - and I hope your day is going on well.