Lei could be described as many things. Thorny, pushy, rude–sometimes even kind. But those kind days didn’t occur often, and when someone was in the military, that wasn’t exactly a feature that endeared her to superiors. She was reckless, and often cruel, and charity had never been a part of her teachings. But there was something about the questions that made her normally very selfish mind consider it. Maybe this wasn’t exactly what she had been looking for, and maybe the person before her wasn’t the kind of company she was hoping to keep–but a start was a start.

“You want to learn how to fight?”

No, Jean thought forcefully. “Yes,” she said. Both words felt equally true in her heart. No, she did not want to learn how to fight, but her trips to the city had showed her many things, most of which frightened her. This interaction alone was proof of that. Sure, she was a bender — but not a very good one. Jean had never mastered the element like some. When she called on the Earth, it only rarely listened, and without much force when it did. If she could wield a sword, or even understand how to best avoid one, maybe even that small amount of security would be all it took to make her feel at home once again in this foreign land she’d known all her life. 

“I live on a farm,” she offered. “Maybe... maybe we could practice there? Away from—” her glance betrayed her, as it shifted from passerby to passerby. Away from prying eyes and laughing mouths.

Thank you thank you! I did in fact have a good Monday! Tuesday was wanting, but then I downloaded the entire Rankin-Bass holiday collection so holiday spirit is making up for it 

“No, I get it. Not a lot of people might enjoy sword fighting, but I like a challenge. I like being able to actually focus my energy into something, and get better at it. I like starting from scratch, and seeing the end result. Mind you, any good sword master will say that you’re never done learning. But it’s fun either way.” 

There seemed to be a canyon between the two of them, and unspoken cavern that had carved out what made their lives interesting. Lei never knew anything other than war as a game, as a fun thing to do. Sure, it was her duty, and sure she was angry most of the time–but the feeling of a sword in her hand was the only thing that ever made her feel like she was a part of something. That she even existed.

The words left her mouth before she could stop them, “Will you teach me?” If a measurement of time existed that was shorter than instantly, it was that span of time in which Jean would have regretted the question. Her neck prickled uncomfortably in invisible, nervous hives. This was a stranger in the imposing city, a stranger who frightened her no less. But Jean had never had an adventure of her own. She had read about them, sure. Imagined them. Dreamed of them. The thing with dreaming though was that you could always wake unscathed, content in a more predictable, safe life. She liked her safe life. She wished it were more safe and predictable, actually. Yet her mouth had betrayed her. Maybe her heart hungered for something her mind couldn’t bear to hear. “I can pay you.” Not much, she thought. But it seemed like something she needed to add. 

“I wasn’t a bender, and they wanted to make sure I could be useful and take care of myself. It was fun.” Lei shrugged it off, not bothering to mention the low points, the times in which she hated not only her lack of bending ability, but the bending abilities of those around her. While they too had to train, they were born with it in their veins, while she had to forge her own path.

“What else do you think is fun?” Jean suddenly found herself starved for information. “Not like—I mean... I hope that wasn’t rude. That just doesn’t, uhm, sound like any fun to me. And...” and now that Republic City was growing every day, taller and wider and more populated, she found herself feeling more and more dim and dull in its shadow. Jean used to think walking ten miles to the next village was fun. Jean used to think seeing an unusual flower was fun. She still thought the tacky tricks some street performers did was the epitome of entertainment, even thought she herself was a bender and capable of most of their 'magic.’ “—and I’m realizing there’s a lot more to the world than I thought.”

“Right, right, a fruit.” Lei couldn’t be bothered to remember the exact detail, and she was sure that in her laughter she hadn’t even gathered why she was laughing at all. “I suppose that makes sense. I grew up in a small village, but I was sent off for schooling as soon as I was of age. Not much farming experience I’m afraid.”

“Like... schooling for fighting?” she wondered aloud, unable to keep the worried look from her features. She knew there were a lot of people who had trained to fight or bend their entire lives, but Jean certainly wasn’t one of them and it was hard for her to imagine what that might have been like. She didn’t think she’d have done well with it, at any rate. Books and orders she could follow well enough, but the physical stuff? Jean could hardly walk down the street without tripping on her own feet.

“That was your reason for living. A peach.” Lei turned her head to the side, trying to determine who exactly this person was, and what in the world was their motivation. They really did seem harmless enough, innocent even. It was refreshing to experience.

Her sword hand withdrew itself as her body relaxed. “I’m not going to kill you. It’s just a bit of a habit, y’know?”

Jean’s voice was very small when she answered. “Uhm, a pear actually.” She rubbed her arm and tried to force herself to make eye contact, but didn’t quite succeed. “I’m a farmer,” she blurted out. “I really... don’t know. There aren’t a lot of swords around the field to pull instinctively.” She was also an Earth bender, and therefore theoretically otherwise capable of protecting herself, though she doubted she’d keep her wits if it came to it. In fact, as she’d just proven, she was sure she wouldn’t.

Lei blinked a few times, momentarily confused as to what exactly was being told to her. A peach. Going bad. The answer was positively stupid, and yet, so caught off guard, Lei started laughing. She wasn’t sure the last time in which she had laughed, it wasn’t the sort of thing that seemed appropriate most of the time. But suddenly it made perfect sense.

“You–what?” Lei knew she must have looked half-mad, practically tearing up from laughter in the middle of the road, while a sword dangled on her hip. Not much of a soldier now, was she.

Jean began to feel positively foolish, seeing the other girl laughing so hard. A part of her wished she could burn up on the spot and save herself the embarrassment (was she being laughed at, or laughed with?), another part was just grateful not to be on the wrong end of a drawn sword. “I—” She began to giggle, too. “I was trying to think of reasons I can’t die today.” Jean was bashful when she shrugged. “It was the first to come to mind...” 

Lei knew the journey to Republic City would be a challenging one, especially given the fact that every other person seemingly had the same plan that she did. The city called to people, a beacon of a new world amidst the still smoldering destruction. For Lei, she was a part of the destruction, another unsung casualty in the war that lasted over 100 years. Peace, therefore, became a word that was hard to swallow, and even harder to say. The Fire Nation had created soldiers, bred them, bribed them, and bought them. Now they were free to find a new purpose, but what if they didn’t have any?

Lei clutched her traveling jacket, feeling a chill overcome her. This was a place where she could be remade. Reborn. But where to begin? Her feet started down the main road, as she watched buildings being built, and people with smiles permanently etched onto their faces. Relief still pouring out of them. Actually, Lei had been so focused on one particular woman, with gray slowly enveloping her brown hair, that she hadn’t noticed the person she abruptly ran into.

“Oof,” the impact hadn’t been particularly hard, but it was jarring nonetheless. The whole place made Lei feel like she was spinning and she instinctively grabbed the sword that swung at her side.

“Wow, oh no, my gosh, is that—” Jean’s eyes bugged, zooming in on the sword at the girl’s side. Her breathing affected the sound of a badly asthmatic rabbit for a full few seconds before she forced a wonky, apologetic smile. “Please don’t stab me. I have...” Her mind suddenly went blank, and the only reason Jean could think to give for sparing her life was this: “I have a pear that’s going to go bad if I don’t eat it tonight when I get home.” She winced in a way that was effective both to brace for impact, and also to convey how stupid she knew that answer was. So far, city living was not treating her kindly. 

“The whole point is that you aren’t supposed to get caught,” Kida hissed to the iguana parrot perched on her shoulder, looking rather smug for a bird that just got caught with its proverbial hand in the cookie jar – or, in this case, a sticky beak in someone else’s food pack attempting to steal it for Kida. It was a system they’d perfected over their years together, when the damn bird felt like cooperating. Turning back to the person who’s belongings were now somewhat strewn all over the place, Kida opted for a somewhat apologetic look. It wasn’t in the least genuine, in fact it seemed more like a grimace, but sympathy food was always worth a shot. “Sorry,” she said flatly, shooting her bird another glare, “it seems someone here forgot his manners. We’ve been on the road for a while.”

Jean was not unused to having unusual things happen to her. As it were, she found herself to be rather unlucky on the whole. So having an iguana parrot pluck her belongings from her lunchbox and make a mess of them was, much to her disappointment, not surprising in the least. She signed, smiled, and began reclaiming her lunch, careful not to let her fingers get too close to the creature’s mouth. 

“I wish I could say this was the strangest thing to happen to me today. It’s not.” She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose to get a better look at the girl. “Where are you traveling from? Oh, uh, if you don’t mind my asking. That’s nosy of me, isn’t it? Shoot.” Jean stared down into her bag, pretending to inventory its contents.