*｡ : ✧･ﾟ: * : ✧

Their laughter lingered between them for another few moments before gradually settling into a comfortable silence. Outside, evening had begun painting warm reflections across the water while the steady murmur of passing conversations drifted through the open windows. 

Aang lowered his attention to the bowl resting before him, absently stirring the noodles with his chopsticks before taking another bite.

"Hmm..." he hummed thoughtfully after swallowing. 

"I really missed you, Katara."

The words came so naturally that they caught her entirely off guard. Her smile widened, though her surprise softened it.

"I missed you too, Aang."

He looked up immediately, meeting her eyes with the same open smile he had always worn whenever he was genuinely happy, and for just a moment, it felt strangely easy to pretend nothing had changed between them.

"So," she continued, breaking the silence, "how are things with Zuko? I'm curious why you keep going there. You're practically living in the Fire Nation these days."

The smile faded little by little, and Aang looked back down into his bowl, rolling the chopsticks lightly between his fingers before answering.

"Well..." The single word carried enough weight that Katara immediately understood.

"That bad?"

He gave a small nod.

"Yeah." He searched for the right way to explain it.

"I don't even know how to help him anymore," he admitted quietly. "At first I thought I did, but lately it just feels like...I'm standing in the middle of problems that don't really belong to me."

Katara rested her elbow lightly against the table, watching him carefully while he spoke.

"I guess I understand."

Aang looked toward her.

"If you weren't friends, maybe it'd be easier to stay out of it," she continued. "But you are friends and you're worried for him, and when people you care about are struggling..." She offered a small shrug. 

"...you don't really know how not to help."

"Yeah." The answer escaped almost automatically.

Silence settled again, though this one felt different from before. Aang continued absentmindedly eating, yet his thoughts were clearly elsewhere, his movements slowing enough that Katara noticed almost immediately.

She had spent too many years beside him not to.

"What is bothering you?"

He blinked.

"What?"

She smiled knowingly.

"Something's bothering you."

He looked momentarily confused.

"I thought it was about Zuko," she continued, "but I don't think it is anymore."

Aang avoided her eyes.

"Is it about Sokka?"

He shook his head. "No. Nothing's wrong."

Katara laughed quietly. "Oh, please."

He looked back up.

"I know your tells." That earned the faintest smile from him, though it disappeared quickly.

"Well..." He sighed.

She waited. 

"It's not...not about Zuko."

Katara simply nodded, giving him the space to continue instead of rushing to fill the silence.

Aang rested both chopsticks across the rim of his bowl before speaking again.

"I knew all of you probably wouldn't accept my wife right away."

The confession surprised her, prompting her to open her mouth in protest but close it immediately. He hadn't been wrong, and she hadn't realized he had expected it all along.

Before she could respond, he continued.

"I wasn't really upset about that." He rubbed absentmindedly at the back of his neck. "I figured everyone just needed time. You, Sokka, Toph...I knew you'd come around eventually because you're my family."

Katara felt something tighten quietly inside her chest.

"So..." Aang smiled faintly, though there was very little joy behind it now. "It actually felt nice that at least Zuko seemed to be genuinely happy for me."

The words landed harder than he ever intended making her lower her eyes in shame.

"I really am sorry we made you feel that way."

Aang didn't interrupt.

"We were surprised," she admitted honestly. "And I think we let that surprise get in the way of simply being happy for you."

He answered only with a small smile, not really dismissing the apology, but not verbally accepting it either. 

In his mind, she didn't have any reason to apologize, so he only gave that smile to let her know he wasn't angry.

She wished, strangely, that he had argued instead.

"I thought..." he continued after another moment, "that Zuko was just...being Zuko."

She looked at him curiously.

"You know...a little indifferent." He laughed softly. "He's always been better than the rest of us at accepting change once he decides to stop fighting it."

Katara couldn't help smiling.

"That's one way of describing him."

"But now I'm not so sure." Something in his voice made her expression change immediately.

"What do you mean?"

Aang hesitated.

"I don't want to assume the worst of him."

She remained quiet.

"But...?"

He frowned faintly.

"I've started wondering whether the only reason he offered to accommodate my wife was because he wanted to learn more about her."

Katara looked genuinely puzzled. "What makes you think that?"

Aang rested his forearms against the edge of the table.

"He said a few things to her. and it really upset her."

Katara watched him carefully.

"I know she tried to hide it from me," he continued quietly. "She didn't want another situation like the one with Sokka."

His expression softened almost immediately.

"Like that was ever her fault."

"What did he say?" Katara asked, leaning forward slightly, her elbows resting against the the table, mimicking Aang as she searched his face for an answer.

Only then did Aang seem to realize where the conversation had wandered. His eyes widened almost imperceptibly before darting back toward his untouched bowl, panic flashing across his features for the briefest moment. 

Until now he had been speaking without thinking, simply voicing the worries that had lingered in the back of his mind ever since leaving the Fire Nation, but the moment Katara asked that question he remembered exactly what those words had been about.

If he told her the truth, he would have to tell her that Zuko had questioned his feelings for her.

He couldn't do that.

"Just..." He hesitated, searching for something vague enough to satisfy the question without betraying anyone's confidence. "...just things that made her doubt herself. Her place beside me."

Katara watched him for another moment before the answer finally settled in. She understood immediately that he had no intention of repeating the conversation word for word, and despite her curiosity she respected it enough not to pry further. 

Leaning back into her chair once more, she offered him a small, reassuring smile.

"It's okay if you don't want to tell me." Her voice softened. "If you just needed someone to listen, then I'm here."

Aang returned the smile, grateful enough that the tension in his shoulders eased ever so slightly.

"Thanks."

For a while he quietly pushed the noodles around his bowl before speaking again.

"I really want to believe he was just curious," he admitted, frowning down at the broth. "I don't want to think he crossed a line. He's dealing with enough already. My marriage should be the last thing on his mind."

Katara listened without interrupting, waiting until he had finished before answering.

"If you're really that worried..." She paused, choosing her words carefully. "Then maybe you should bring her home."

Aang looked up.

"I know you wanted her with you," she continued, "but if she's constantly feeling like someone is trying to pry answers out of her, then I can't imagine she's very comfortable there. Zuko is our friend, and I know he doesn't always realize how he comes across, but sometimes..." She sighed quietly. 

"...sometimes he pushes because he thinks he deserves an answer."

"Yeah." his agreement came almost immediately. "Yeah, I think I will bring her back."

He finally reached for his glass of water, taking a slow sip before setting it down again.

"I don't think bringing her there was the right decision anymore. I just..." He rubbed absentmindedly at the back of his neck. 

"I felt awful leaving her alone, and I knew I had to be away from her for a while. It seemed like a solution."

Katara nodded patiently.

"I thought she'd enjoy staying there more than sitting by herself at home," he continued. "Even if I wasn't there with her."

"What makes you say that, Aang?"

The question stopped him completely.

His mouth opened before closing again just as quickly, every answer that came to mind dying before it reached his tongue. A nervous laugh escaped him instead, and he scratched awkwardly at his cheek.

"I...don't know."

Katara tilted her head.

"Aang?"

"It's..." He stopped again. "My wife...she's very similar to Zuko."

"Oh."

"Well, more like the way they were raised, it's very different from how the Air Nomad's lifestyle."

"I think I understand..."

"She tries to hide it, but I know she struggles with how I live. So I try to give her as much freedom as she wants. But she insisted to join me wholeheartedly. She turned vegetarian, she stopped drinking, she even asked to have the air acolyte clothing made for her."

"Why doesn't she wear them?" Katara asked genuinely, being reminded of how Aang and Sokka's argument had begun in the first place.

"I told her not to." He answered shyly.

"Why?"

"Because I knew she didn't want to. Despite everything that happened, she didn't want to leave her life behind, and her clothes were the only thing that tied her back to home. That's why I thought she might feel a little more at home in the Fire Nation."

Katara nodded, "What happened?"

Aang tilts his head. "What?"

"You said, despite everything that happened. What happened?"

"Oh, um..."

"I won't judge you or her," she assured him gently. "You know that."

"I know you won't!" he answered almost immediately, sounding far more flustered than he intended. "I know that."

He exhaled heavily, looking everywhere except at her.

"I just...I don't think you're the right person to tell."

The words escaped before he could stop them. The moment they did, he wished desperately that he could pull them back.

Katara's expression fell so quietly that anyone else might have missed it, but Aang knew her too well. He saw the hurt settle behind her eyes, and guilt crashed over him before she had even spoken.

"Wait—" He hurried forward slightly, shaking his head.

"I didn't mean it like that." His voice softened immediately. "Katara, you know I value your opinion. You mean so much to me."

He sighed, rubbing both hands over his face before forcing himself to continue.

"...and my wife knows that too."

Katara drew a slow breath through parted lips, understanding arriving quickly making lowering her eyes for only a moment before looking back at him.

"Aang..." Her voice had become quieter now. "I'm sorry if I made things more difficult."

"No."

The answer came instantly.

"No, Katara. Please don't apologize." He shook his head, his voice had almost become a whisper.

"This isn't your fault." He swallowed hard. "I'd never blame you."

His fingers tightened around the edge of the table.

"It happened because I was ignorant." His eyes remained fixed on the untouched bowl in front of him. "She knows I love her...but she just can't bring herself to believe it because—"

"Because of me?" Katara finished quietly. The words hung between them.

Aang didn't answer but his silence said enough. She looked away first, blinking rapidly while drawing another careful breath.

"Katara..." His own voice faltered now.

"I don't..."

She shook her head gently before he could continue. "Please."

When she looked back at him, her eyes had already begun to shine.

"Just say it, Aang."

He stared at her helplessly.

"Say what?"

"Whatever you've been trying so hard not to." A sad smile touched her lips.

"I'm tired of everyone walking on eggshells whenever your name comes up." She let out a quiet laugh that held no amusement. "I don't want you doing it too."

Her fingers curled loosely around the cup sitting in front of her.

"So...please. Just rip the bandage off."

Aang pressed his lips together, his chest tightening until it almost hurt to breathe.

"K-Katara..." His voice cracked before he could finish the sentence.

"I don't want to hurt you." He blinked hard, feeling his own vision blur. "I don't want you thinking I'm saying any of this because I pity you...or because I feel guilty."

He lowered his head.

"But everything I want to say sounds exactly like that."

Katara wasn't faring much better. She quickly brushed away the tears gathering beneath her eyes before folding her arms tightly across herself, steadying her breathing long enough to answer.

"I won't think that." Her voice had become small, though it never lost its certainty. "Just tell me."

Aang remained silent for another long moment before finally finding the courage to meet her eyes again.

"It isn't exactly a secret that I liked you, Katara."

A faint, almost embarrassed smile crossed his face.

"In fact, it was a lot more than a simple crush."

He let out a slow breath.

"I know, Aang."

Katara's answer came almost instinctively.

"I felt the same."

The moment the words left her mouth, both of them froze. Neither acknowledged what she had actually admitted. The confession simply settled quietly between them, too honest to be taken back and too painful to examine any further.

Aang lowered his eyes first.

"I'm so sorry if I've made you feel like I misled you all these years."

His voice had grown quieter now, stripped entirely of the uncertainty that had filled it moments ago.

"I never want to see you hurt." He drew a slow breath, his fingers curling together. "And I don't think I'll ever forgive myself for knowing that I was the reason."

Katara watched him silently.

"I know saying sorry doesn't change anything," he continued, forcing himself to meet her eyes again despite the tears beginning to blur his own. "I'm not saying it because I want to stop feeling guilty. If this is something I'll carry for the rest of my life, then...I will." 

A weak smile tried to form before disappearing almost immediately. "I just need you to know that I never wanted to hurt you."

She swallowed against the tightness in her throat.

"I know you didn't." Her answer came gently. "I know you would never hurt me on purpose."

She paused to steady her breathing.

"But you can't expect me not to be hurt, Aang."

"I know."

He didn't try to defend himself, only accepted her answer.

Katara lowered her eyes toward the untouched bowl in front of her, blinking repeatedly before speaking again.

"I promise..." Her voice caught unexpectedly, forcing her to stop as she hurriedly wiped beneath her eyes with the heel of her hand. 

She let out a quiet laugh through her nose, embarrassed by the tears that refused to stay away. 

"...I promise I don't have anything against your wife."

Aang remained silent.

"But when I looked at her..." She finally lifted her head again, her expression crumbling despite every attempt to keep it together. "...I couldn't stop thinking..."

Her voice barely carried the rest. "...that was supposed to be my life."

The words struck him harder than anything said all afternoon. He stared at her without speaking, his heart sinking further with every second she struggled to continue.

"I'm sorry." She laughed again, though this time it sounded painfully hollow. "I know that sounds awful."

"It doesn't."

She shook her head.

"I was so certain." Her eyes drifted toward the street beyond the restaurant window where strangers continued walking through the evening entirely unaware that her world had quietly unraveled inside four walls. 

"I was so certain of what my future looked like that when you came back married..." She stopped, pressing trembling fingers briefly against her lips before forcing herself onward. 

"...it felt like I'd lost a part of myself."

Aang's own eyes burned.

"And I couldn't even talk about it." Another tear slipped free despite her efforts. "Everyone pitied me."

She smiled bitterly.

"It feels pathetic being pitied over something like that."

"Katara..."

"I wanted to be angry with you. I really did." She looked at him then, her voice had steadied, though only barely.

"But how could I?" She shook her head slowly. "We never even talked about it."

Aang felt his chest tighten.

"I didn't think we had to." Neither accusation nor defense lingered within those words and Katara nodded.

"I didn't either." A faint laugh escaped her.

"I thought..." She smiled sadly. "I thought we'd just...know when the time was right."

"So did I." The admission came immediately, and Katara stared down at her hands resting upon the table.

"Now..." Her voice faltered once more. "...all I can think about is why I never said anything sooner."

Aang couldn't bear the distance between them anymore. Without thinking, he reached across the table, his hand coming to rest gently over hers.

"Katara..."

The contact lasted only a heartbeat.

She withdrew almost instinctively, pulling both hands back toward herself before covering her face entirely. Her shoulders trembled beneath the effort of keeping her sobs quiet, each shaky breath sounding smaller than the last while the evening carried on beyond the restaurant windows, indifferent to the grief unfolding inside.

"I keep wondering..." she whispered through her hands. "If I'd just told you..." Another breath caught painfully in her throat. 

"...if I'd said something before you met her..." She stopped. There was no answer to finish that thought, only another quiet sob.

Aang remained where he was, his hand falling slowly back into his lap, every instinct urging him to comfort her while knowing there was nothing he could possibly say that would lessen what she was feeling.

After another long moment, Katara lowered her hands just enough for him to see her face.

She managed the smallest smile, one that broke his heart all over again.

"I really am happy for you, Aang." Her voice remained fragile, but there wasn't a trace of dishonesty within it.

"I just..."

She paused to wipe her cheeks once more.

"I need some time."

By the time they stepped back onto the streets, the last traces of sunlight had long disappeared beyond Republic City's skyline, leaving hundreds of lanterns to bathe the roads in a warm amber glow. 

The city had always seemed most alive after sunset, and for the first time in years, Aang found himself walking beside Katara without feeling the weight of unspoken words pressing between them.

Neither of them spoke much.

The afternoon had taken more out of them than either cared to admit, yet strangely enough, both felt lighter for it. Nothing had truly been resolved, but at least they no longer had to wonder what the other had been thinking all these years.

They finally knew.

Katara slowed to a stop outside her house, turning toward him with the faintest smile.

"This is me."

Aang smiled back.

"Mhm."

They simply stood there, neither certain whether a hug would be appropriate anymore. The hesitation lasted only a heartbeat before Katara laughed softly to herself.

"See?" she teased, folding her arms loosely. "Now you've made things awkward."

"I did?" Aang asked, sounding genuinely surprised.

"You." She pointed accusingly toward him. "You overthink everything."

Aang rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"I think we both do."

Katara couldn't argue with that.

"I guess we do." She admitted with a small laugh.

Another comfortable silence followed before she stepped closer, reaching out to squeeze his forearm gently.

"Go home to your wife."

There was no bitterness behind those words.

Aang nodded.

"I will."

"And don't worry about Zuko too much, I am sure he's over there boring your wife with his attempts of humor." Katara laughed.

Aang reciprocated it barely, still a little bothered by Zuko's last interaction with you.

"I hope so." He said, his voice soft.

"And Aang..."

He looked back.

"I'm glad we talked."

His smile softened.

"Me too."

She lingered another moment before finally disappearing inside, closing the door quietly behind her.

Aang remained standing where he was for a few seconds longer.

The conversation replayed through his thoughts, not with the heaviness that had haunted him before, but with an odd sense of peace. 

Things would not return to how they had once been, and perhaps they never should. They had both changed too much for that. 

Yet beneath all the complicated feelings, the years apart, and the futures that had taken different paths, she was still Katara.

His oldest friend.

He hoped that would always remain true.

He turned and began making his way back through the lantern-lit streets toward home.

He had barely taken another corner before something small and unexpectedly heavy slammed into the back of his head.

"Ow!"

The impact pitched him forward just enough to stumble, both hands instinctively flying upward in confusion before tiny arms suddenly wrapped around his face.

"Momo?!"

The winged lemur clung stubbornly to him, chirping furiously only inches from his ear.

"Oh, you're mad at me!" Aang laughed despite himself, trying unsuccessfully to pry the little creature away. 

"You were looking for me? I left you enough food! Did you actually finish all of it already?"

Momo answered with another series of indignant chirps, sounding deeply offended by the accusation.

"Okay, okay!" Aang protested between laughs. "I'm sorry!"

Instead of forgiving him, Momo flattened his ears and let out an even louder screech toward the night sky.

"H-Hey..." Aang frowned. "What's going on?"

Another sharp object collided squarely against the side of his head.

"Ow!"

Something fluttered frantically above him.

Tiny claws caught briefly in his sleeve before he reached upward on instinct, carefully wrapping his hand around the small messenger bird struggling to keep its balance.

"Oh..."

His expression immediately shifted.

"So that's why you were looking for me."

Momo chirped in agreement before finally releasing his grip on Aang's face, climbing down to perch around his shoulders instead while continuing to grumble beneath his breath.

Aang laughed quietly, scratching behind one of the lemur's ears.

"Alright, alright. I'm sorry you had to come find me because I wasn't home."

The bird answered with a patient chirp of its own, remaining perfectly still while Aang carefully untied the small scroll secured beneath its wing.

He frowned slightly.

"A letter from the Fire Nation?"

That was unexpected.

He had spoken to Zuko only yesterday before leaving for Republic City. Whatever business had required his presence here had already been discussed, and they both knew he intended to return within another day or two.

His confusion quickly gave way to another possibility.

Maybe it wasn't from Zuko at all. Maybe you had grown impatient after only one day apart.

The thought brought an unconscious smile to his face.

He could almost picture you insisting that one letter certainly wasn't excessive if your husband was away, regardless of how soon he planned to return.

Still smiling to himself, Aang carefully unrolled the parchment, and his smile disappeared almost immediately.

It wasn't your handwriting.

Instead, written neatly at the very bottom of the page, stood a single name.

Zuko.

A faint unease settled in his chest.

He lowered his eyes to the first line.

Then he read, and the blood drained from his face.

Aang, I regret that I must ask you to cut your visit to Republic City short. The palace came under attack shortly after your departure. Although the threat has been contained and those responsible have been apprehended, the circumstances surrounding the attack require your immediate return. Your wife was injured while under my protection. Before anything else, I want you to know that she survived. The palace physician has examined her thoroughly and assures me that her condition is stable. Her injuries are significant, but she has remained conscious, and I have every reason to believe she will recover with time and proper care. I know those words will not ease your mind, but I hope they spare you from imagining anything worse during your journey back. I will explain everything that happened once you arrive. There are matters surrounding the attack that I do not wish to entrust to a messenger bird, both for your sake and hers. I cannot adequately express my regret that this occurred within my palace, especially after I assured you she would be safe here. I accept full responsibility for that failure. Please return as soon as you are able. I am sorry, Aang. — Zuko

The parchment slipped from Aang's trembling fingers before he had even reached the final line.

"No..."

The whisper escaped him without thought.

His heart lurched violently against his ribs, every word Zuko had written crashing together until only one remained.

Your wife was injured...

He snatched the letter back up immediately, reading it again despite already knowing what had been said, his eyes desperately searching for something he might have misunderstood. 

Surely there had been another page. Surely there was some explanation hidden between the lines that would make this seem less frightening than it felt, but there wasn't.

You were hurt and his mind refused to stay still.

How badly had you been injured?

"A-Appa..."

The name barely left his lips before he was already running.

People called after him when he burst through the crowded streets, apologizing instinctively each time his shoulder brushed against another passerby, though he hardly heard himself. 

His thoughts remained hundreds of miles away, already searching desperately through every possibility, every route that might somehow shorten the impossible distance separating him from you.

It was still another full day's journey.

Spirits...

A whole day.

By the time Aang reached home, his thoughts had dissolved into a blur so overwhelming that he barely remembered unlocking the front door. He crossed the familiar rooms without stopping, his feet carrying him instinctively toward the balcony where the cool night air met him the moment he slid the doors open. 

Raising the whistle to his lips, he gave a sharp blow into the carved bison hanging around his neck, the clear call echoing across the quiet streets before disappearing into the darkness beyond the rooftops.

The silence that followed felt endless.

Unable to remain still, Aang turned back inside, his eyes immediately finding the two travel bags resting neatly beside the entrance exactly where he had left them that morning. He had packed them before leaving this morning, knowing he would be too tired to do it after he returned. 

One carried a change of his robes along with a few necessities for the journey ahead, while the other held several of your spare garments folded carefully inside.

He swallowed the feeling before lifting both bags and carrying them back onto the balcony just as a familiar shadow swept over the rooftops. Appa descended with grace despite his enormous size, hovering in front of the railing.

"There you are," Aang murmured, though the relief never reached his voice.

He secured both bags to the saddle with hurried hands before looking toward the winged lemur lingering anxiously behind him.

"Momo." The little lemur tilted his head. "Go on. Meet me downstairs."

Momo chirped once before springing effortlessly onto Appa's saddle, curling himself between the baggage while watching Aang disappear back into the house.

It took only a moment to lock the front door behind him.

Aang paused briefly with the key still resting in his hand, staring at the quiet home that had felt so warm only yesterday, before slipping it into his robes and hurrying back outside.

Appa was already waiting, the great sky bison lowered his head in greeting, letting out a deep, familiar rumble that usually drew an immediate smile from Aang.

Tonight, it only made his heart ache.

Aang crossed the remaining distance quickly, burying both hands into the thick fur along Appa's neck.

"We have to go."

Another rumble answered him, softer this time.

"Right now."

Appa nudged him gently, almost questioning the urgency.

Aang closed his eyes.

"Your mother..." His voice cracked despite every effort to steady it. "Your mother is hurt."

The words lingered between them.

Appa became completely still.

Perhaps he did not understand every word, but he understood enough. He knew your scent, your laughter, the gentle way your hands always disappeared into the fur beneath his horns whenever you greeted him after a long flight.

He knew exactly who Aang meant.

"I need you to fly faster than you ever have before," Aang whispered, resting his forehead against Appa's. "I know it's far, and I know you've barely had time to rest, but...please."

His hand stroked Appa's fur once, urgency bleeding through every syllable as he spoke.

Appa answered with a determined snort before lowering himself without another moment's hesitation.

Aang didn't waste another second.

He climbed onto his head in one practiced motion while Momo darted onto his shoulder, unusually quiet now, sensing the fear that had settled over his friend.

The messenger bird took flight once more.

Aang barely noticed.

"Yip, yip." The command came strained.

Appa surged into the night sky.

Republic City disappeared beneath them almost immediately, its countless lanterns shrinking into scattered stars while the cold wind rushed against Aang's face. His fingers tightened around the reins until they ached, every instinct urging Appa faster despite knowing the great bison was already giving him everything he had.

"Please..."

The plea vanished into the rushing wind.

"Just hold on until I get there."

Night had long settled over the Fire Nation by the time Zuko found himself seated upon the throne once more, though the title of Fire Lord felt strangely distant beneath the weight occupying his thoughts.  

His body remained where duty demanded it be, but his mind had stubbornly refused to leave your chambers.

He had expected relief after speaking with you, instead, he had walked away carrying even more uncertainty than before.

You had thanked him for his hospitality, accepted his apology.

And you had asked only whether Aang had been informed, and he was certain the Avatar must have received his letter by this hour.

Nothing more.

Nothing less.

Then, with all the kindness he had once admired in you, you had quietly dismissed him from the room.

The memory lingered unpleasantly.

Your politeness had unsettled him more than your previous anger had. Every careful word and measured smile, every attempt to steer the conversation elsewhere had made one thing painfully clear.

You truly wished to leave the previous night behind. To forget it had ever happened.

"My Lord?"

Zuko did not respond.

"Fire Lord Zuko."

The second voice finally reached him.

He lifted his head immediately, finding every minister seated around the table waiting in silence.

"My apologies," he said quietly, straightening where he sat. "I was elsewhere."

The council exchanged brief glances before one of the senior ministers leaned forward, spreading another map across the table until it covered nearly the entire polished surface. Several locations had already been marked in red ink, connected by thin strokes that crisscrossed the Fire Nation's coastline and reached farther inland than Zuko would have liked.

"As I was saying, Your Majesty," the minister resumed, his tone measured despite the gravity weighing beneath it, "we believe the assault upon the palace may not have been an isolated incident."

Another councilor nodded in agreement.

"The men apprehended after the attack possessed no insignias, no written orders, and no identifying marks upon their bodies. Ordinarily we would assume they were hired internally within our forces." His fingers rested upon one of the marked locations before sliding toward another. 

"However, the manner in which they coordinated their movements, their willingness to die without surrender, and the discipline they displayed suggest something...considerably older."

Silence settled over the chamber.

The older minister inhaled slowly before speaking the name none of them had wished to utter aloud.

"The Shinu bloodline."

The words lingered heavily between those present, no one immediately contradicted him.

"it seems our previous speculations might just be true, my Lord."

For generations, the Shinu clan had remained a blemish upon the history of the royal family. Though they had long ago surrendered their claim to the throne and publicly sworn loyalty to Fire Lord Zoryu's descendants, loyalty born from necessity rarely erased ambition. 

Every generation had produced whispers of resentment, of descendants who believed the crown should never have belonged to Zuko's bloodline in the first place.

Most of those whispers had died before becoming anything more.

Zuko rested both hands upon the edge of the council table, his thoughts finally pulling themselves away from your chambers and settling fully upon the discussion before him.

"We have no proof," he said at last, his voice calm despite the unease beginning to settle within him. "History is not evidence."

"No, but history often tells us where to begin looking." the minister agreed solemnly. 

The chamber fell quiet once more.

Zuko did not want to be prejudiced, especially after spending most of his life being on the receiving end of it.

He didn't want any accusations to be thrown towards the clan, even if their history together hadn't been the friendliest. But if he as a ruler was a stark contrast to his father, then he didn't want to rule out the possibility for someone else changing either.

But that alone can't be enough reason for him ignore the truth.  

Zuko lowered his eyes toward the map spread before him, studying the scattered markings without truly seeing them. 

He had spent years believing the greatest threat to his reign would always bear his father's name.

Now found himself wondering whether he had been looking in the wrong direction all along.

But there was a sense of dread within him, that perhaps his suspicions weren't entirely wrong. 

chapter fifteen coming soon...

a/n: guys...i have some bad news. :(

i can no longer guarantee an update every five days.

i've officially caught up to myself and run out of pre-written chapters, which means everything from this point onward is just rough drafts that i still have to write.

so...we're back to random updates 😭

hopefully i'll still have enough time each day to keep the updates fairly consistent, but i don't want to promise something i can't guarantee anymore.

some chapters might still come out within five days, some might take a little longer, and if the writing gods decide to be kind to me, maybe you'll even get back-to-back updates.

we'll just have to see how it goes. 🤍

also, addressing the chapter...

i don't know how i feel about aang calling you appa's mother 😭

it sounded SO sweet in my head, but when i actually wrote it, i just sat there staring at it like...hmm.

i still kept it because i think it's adorable, but i genuinely can't decide if it's really cute or really corny.

you all can be the judges of that one.

[taglist open] (please mention under the latest chapter or the story masterlist)

masterlist

"I still feel some discomfort, though considerably less than before."

His face softened with relief as he heard you speak of your improving condition.

"I am glad." He said earnestly.

Silence followed his words, and you found yourself staring toward the open balcony rather than the man standing several feet away, suddenly becoming acutely aware of how difficult it had become to look at him directly. 

Only yesterday, you had spoken with him for hours without thinking twice. Now, merely meeting his eyes felt like a sin.

"If that was all..." you began carefully, hoping he would understand the dismissal, but unfortunately, Zuko seemed determined not to.

"If there is anything you require, you need only ask." He added, eyes still trained on your face, waiting for your head to turn so he could meet your gaze as he spoke to you.

You gave nothing but a polite nod, having no intention of prolonging this conversation.

Sadly, Zuko appeared to possess entirely different intentions.

"My guards informed me of the items lost during the fire. I apologize that most of your belongings could not be recovered."

The apology drew your attention back toward him, though you kept your gaze averted.

"It is quite alright. The things I cared about most survived." The answer seemed to ease some small portion of his guilt.

"I am glad to hear it. Although..." His attention shifted briefly across the room. "I feel terrible regarding your clothing. I had one of my guards arrange replacements while something more suitable could be prepared."

You finally met his eyes when you spoke—

"Oh. I did receive them." You confirmed, but something about your tone prompted concern in him.

"Is there an issue?"

You almost laughed because the situation itself felt absurd.

"I cannot accept them. It would not be appropriate."

The confusion upon his face lasted only a moment before understanding finally arrived. 

He followed your line of sight toward the two racks occupying the far corner of the chamber and immediately understood the source of the misunderstanding.

The rich fabrics, embroidered collars and unmistakable Fire Nation tailoring woven throughout every piece.

They were beautiful.

And they belonged to a nation you did not.

"Oh." The realization seemed to embarrass him. Now he feared you may have misunderstood his well intentions when he himself never selected those garments.

"I am sorry. It must have been all they managed to acquire on such short notice."

"It is hardly a matter worth troubling yourself over."

"It is." The answer came quickly, at it surprised you.

"I should have considered how it would appear."

"You do not need to have new clothing prepared for me."

"Please." His voice softened.

"It is the least I can do after the—"

The sentence died, his own interruption lasting no longer than a heartbeat, yet it was enough for you to speculate exactly which word had nearly escaped him.

You lowered your eyes before he could see your agitation.

Across the room, Zuko recovered quickly to alter the course of the sentence.

"—fire."

The correction arrived too late for it to be convincing, but you didn't dare acknowledged it.

After a moment, you cleared your throat and forced yourself to focus upon something considerably safer than the direction your thoughts had begun drifting toward.

"If it would not be too much trouble, perhaps a few robes could be prepared after all."

The request seemed to surprise him and you continued before he could misunderstand.

"Something simpler would suffice. Preferably robes resembling Air Nomad attire. It would save your tailors unnecessary work, and I imagine my husband would appreciate not returning to find me dressed as a member of the Fire Nation court."

You attempted to make light of the situation, unable to gauge whether Zuko had any intentions to discuss what had transpired between the two of you, and you remained hopeful that he could let it pass just as you had.

In your own train of thought, you failed to notice how the mention of Aang altered something within Zuko.

"Of course," he answered after a moment. "I shall see to it personally."

The conversation faltered once more, neither of you seeming capable of finding another subject that did not eventually lead back toward things best left untouched. Zuko inclined his head politely, taking a step toward the door.

"Then I shall leave you to rest."

You nodded.

"Thank you."

He turned.

The distance between the door and his departure amounted to only a handful of steps, yet when he reached it, his hand settling against the handle, he found himself pausing despite every intention of leaving.

His questions remained there, the same questions that had followed him throughout the night and well into the morning.

Part of him wanted to ask.

Yet another part looked back toward the bed where you sat recovering from a fresh wound hidden beneath layers of bandages, and found himself unable to burden you with a conversation that would undoubtedly complicate everything further.

You needed rest.

The matter could wait.

At least that was what he told himself.

"Um..."

The hesitant sound interrupted his thoughts immediately and he turned around far quicker than he intended.

"Yes?" The response escaped instantly.

"Have you wrote to Aang yet?"

The question struck him in a manner he had never felt before.

Of course that would be your concern.

Aang.

"Yes." He said, his voice perfectly calm.

"I sent a messenger bird while the physician treated you. He should receive word by this evening and, with Appa at his side, I imagine he will arrive tomorrow night."

You sighed, nodding gratefully, relieved to know that Aang would be at your side soon enough

"I see. Thank you." 

The simple answer carried enough gratitude to make him wish, however briefly, that you had asked him something else.

"There is no need."

This time, when he turned toward the door, he didn't halt, and you watched him leave, letting out the breath you had been holding onto for dear life.

Zuko closed the chamber doors quietly behind himself and remained standing there for a moment , staring at the carved wood before eventually forcing himself onward through the corridor.

He found himself walking away with more questions than when he had entered, and the worst part was that he had lacked the courage to ask.

Aang had reached Republic City shortly after dawn.

The journey back from the Fire Nation had left a dull ache settled within his bones, one he scarcely noticed until the familiar outline of the appeared beyond the morning mist. 

When Appa landed, the city had only just begun stirring awake. 

Merchants were still arranging goods outside their shops, fishing boats drifted through the harbor, and the first ferries crossing the bay carried workers beginning another ordinary day.

Aang had no desire to begin his own quite yet.

After ensuring Appa was settled, he made his way home and collapsed onto his bed immediately, fully intending to close his eyes for only a short while. 

The plan failed exactly as expected.

By the time he awoke, the afternoon sunlight had already begun filtering through the windows in broad golden streams.

His council obligations remained merely an hour away, leaving barely enough time to prepare himself properly. 

He took a quick bath, shaving his head as well as the stubble that had accumulated, leaving him looking considerably more presentable than he had.

He hastily consumed the porridge he had prepared for breakfast, having just enough energy to whip up a single serving.

Momo received his attention first.

The lemur greeted him indignantly, accepting fruit from his hands only after making his displeasure abundantly clear. 

Aang apologized repeatedly for having fallen asleep before he could feed him, which seemed to satisfy him enough to prevent further complaints.

Appa proved more difficult to locate.

The sky bison had wandered away from he had left him, and Appa possessed an unfortunate tendency to follow food whenever it became available.

Aang found him eventually near one of the grazing fields, and the bison's company caused his steps to slow.

Katara stood beside Appa, one hand resting against the bison's broad neck while speaking quietly to him despite knowing perfectly well that he understood only a fraction of what she said. 

A few feet away, Sokka held an entire crate of cabbages, feeding them one by one to a very content Appa who seemed thoroughly convinced the arrangement should continue indefinitely.

The scene felt familiar, dating back to his memories that belonged to their childhood.

For a moment, Aang simply watched them, the wind coming from the bay carried Katara's hair gently behind her while Sokka argued with Appa over whether he deserved another cabbage after already consuming half the crate.

Appa disagreed.

Strongly.

"You already had six."

The sky bison let out a low grumble.

Aang couldn't help the smile tugging at his mouth, and that was when Sokka noticed him.

The amusement vanished from his expression immediately, replaced by a far more awkward one.

Katara turned a second later and the tension in her shoulders eased the moment she saw him standing there.

"Hey, you made it." She greeted him, her hands moving from Appa's body as she turned to face him.

"Just barely." He mused, approaching the three of them as he gave her a smile.

Katara returned it.

Then his attention shifted toward her brother.

"Hey, Sokka." The awkwardness returned instantly.

"Hey."

Neither sounded particularly convincing, the exchange lasting barely a moment, yet it carried the weight of weeks.

Things still weren't entirely the same even after Sokka had apologized.

They had done everything friends were supposed to do after a fight, the wound remained nonetheless.

Aang had even been grateful for the things that had been said between the two of them that night, but he still found himself remembering every cruel thing Sokka had said about you. 

He still remembered standing on that balcony fighting the urge to walk away before he said something equally unforgivable in return.

Part of him understood why Sokka had reacted the way he did.

Another part remained angry anyway, because regardless of intentions or concern, regardless of whatever fears had motivated the argument in the first place, Sokka had hurt you immensely, even if they had meantto hurt him.

Aang could forgive insults directed toward himself with remarkable ease.

You were another matter entirely.

Unfortunately, friendship rarely permitted people to remain angry forever, especially when the other person looked so thoroughly uncomfortable standing beside a sky bison holding half a cabbage in one hand.

"So..." Sokka cleared his throat. "How's married life?"

Aang immediately regretted approaching them at all.

Aang had followed Sokka onto the balcony after dinner without argument, waiting until the doors slid shut behind them before crossing the short distance toward the railing. 

The city stretched beneath them in a sea of lanternlight, the evening air carrying distant laughter and music from the streets below, though neither seemed particularly inclined to appreciate it. 

His attention drifted back, looking through the framed glass set into the doors. 

Katara and Zuko hadn't moved from where they were, near enough to the entrance that their concern was almost amusing, both pretending not to watch while very obviously doing exactly that. 

Toph appeared considerably less subtle, lounging comfortably in her chair with her arms folded behind her head, no doubt listening to every word despite the wall separating them. 

Your lonesome presence drew his attention too. You remained seated apart from the others, fingers folded neatly within your lap while you attempted to make yourself smaller.

The sight alone was enough to sour his mood all over again.

"Listen, Aang..." Sokka's voice finally pulled him away from the apartment. His friend rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly before leaning against the railing beside him. 

"I'm sorry about what I said earlier."

Aang remained quiet.

"I mean it," Sokka continued when no response came. "I said some things I shouldn't have said, and I didn't mean to hurt you."

The apology lingered between them for a moment before Aang finally spoke.

"This apology should go to my wife."

Sokka blinked.

"What?"

"You heard me."

"Aang, come on." A short laugh escaped him, but it carried no real amusement. "I wasn't even talking to her. I was mad at you."

"Do you think I'm not going to tell her about this?" Aang asked, finally looking at him. "You said it. She deserves the apology."

Sokka stared at him for a moment before letting out an exasperated groan.

"You love her that much?"

The question immediately put Aang on edge. "What exactly is that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know!" Sokka threw his hands into the air. "That's the problem. I don't get it."

Aang frowned.

"What don't you get? The fact that I met someone and fell in love? Is that something I wasn't supposed to do?"

"That's not what I mean." He groans.

"Then what do you mean?"

Sokka looked away, gathering his thoughts before trying again.

"I mean she's a stranger to us, Aang. You can't seriously expect everyone to trust her immediately."

"But she's not a stranger to me."

"That's not the point."

"I love her, Sokka. I trust her." The answer came more sharply than he intended. "I love her, Sokka. I trust her."

The conviction behind those words left little room for argument.

Sokka simply stood there staring at him. Then he sighed heavily and tried a different approach.

"How long have you known her?"

Aang hesitated, inhaling sharply before admitting—

"Six months, I think."

The answer nearly made Sokka choke. Somehow, he managed to keep his reaction contained, just barely though.

"Six months?" he repeated slowly.

Aang nodded as Sokka looked distressed.

"Spirits."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"It doesn't sound like nothing."

Sokka pressed a hand against his forehead.

"It sounds insane, Aang."

Aang rolled his eyes at that.

"Did you bring me out here just to argue?"

"No! Seriously, Aang." Sokka pointed at him. 

"You disappear for months, come back married, tell us you've only known her for half a year, and somehow I'm the crazy one for asking questions?"

"We fell in love."

"That is not an explanation."

"We did what felt right."

"See?" Sokka immediately pointed again. "You keep doing that."

"And what am I doing?" Aang frowned, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Answering questions without actually answering them."

Aang scoffs at the accusation . 

"Toph knows you're hiding something, she told me you lied yesterday." Sokka continued. Aang didn't react. He had been very careful with his words, but he had an inkling Toph of all people would sniff them out.

"We didn't tell Katara, but I'm sure even she knows something isn't right."

The mention of Katara immediately drained whatever irritation remained from him, the guilt taking over him again.

Sokka noticed, and the frustration faded from his expression.

"I don't mean this in a bad way..." He hesitated. "But she's not forcing you into any of this, right?"

The question caught Aang so completely off guard, he looked so offended by it, Sokka regretted asking anything.

"What?"

It was too late now.

"I'm serious." Sokka pressed on.

"Of course not. I asked her to marry me, and she said yes" Aang answers frustratedly. 

The answer seemed to satisfy that particular concern, though not much else.

"You're really not going to tell us anything, are you?" he asked after a moment. 

Aang looked out over the city instead.

The silence was answer enough and Sokka groaned.

"See? This. This is exactly what I'm talking about."

"So what if we're hiding something?" Aang asked quietly.

The question surprised him enough to stop talking.

"If there are things we're not saying, then we have our reasons. You're my friend, Sokka. That should be enough."

Something in his voice caused Sokka to pause, because beneath the frustration and defensiveness sat something else.

"When Toph said you lied yesterday," Sokka said after a moment. "I thought something was wrong. I really wasn't trying to offend her."

"Then you should've taken it out on me."

The answer came immediately.

"Bringing her into it was too low. Even for you."

The guilt upon Sokka's face was immediate.

"Yeah, I know."

When he noticed Sokka's voice finally ease off, some of the tension left his shoulders.

Then a thought crossed his mind.

A very stupid thought, one he couldn't quite stop himself from asking.

"Is that really the only reason you got so mad?"

Sokka frowned.

"What?"

Aang looked away.

And Sokka suddenly realized they hadn't been arguing about the same thing at all.

He stared at him for a moment, confusion gradually giving way to understanding. Following the direction of Aang's attention, he glanced through the balcony doors and immediately found Katara amongst the others. 

She appeared occupied with whatever conversation Toph had dragged her into, though every so often her attention wandered back toward the balcony.

"Oh."

The realization settled quickly.

Aang let out a quiet breath.

"I thought you were mad because of her."

The confession sounded strangely vulnerable coming from him. making Sokka simply look at his friend before he sighed.

"I mean...yeah." He rested both forearms against the railing and looked out across the city lights stretching beyond the apartment. 

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't upset about that too. She's my sister, Aang. It's not exactly easy watching her get her heart broken."

It might not have been his intention, but those words struck Aang painfully. Aang lowered his head slightly, guilt settling heavily within his chest again.

Part of him had known, yet hearing it spoken aloud somehow made it real in a way he had never acknowledged before.

Katara had loved him.

Sokka seemed to notice the effect his words had produced because he immediately continued.

"But Toph's right."

Aang glanced toward him.

"Katara's my sister, and I'll always be protective of her, but whatever happened between the two of you isn't really my business." He shrugged. "I can be upset about it, but that doesn't mean I get to decide who she loves or who you marry."

For a few moments, neither spoke.

Aang found himself staring absently at the railing beneath his hands before asking the question he had been avoiding.

"Was she really heartbroken?"

Sokka immediately understood, considering his answer carefully.

"Wouldn't you be?" he asked quietly. "If you were in her place?"

Aang let out something halfway between a sigh and a groan before dragging both hands down his face in frustration.

The answer had been obvious, still, hearing it made his stomach twist.

"I was scared to see her again."

The admission surprised even him, and Sokka blinked.

"Why?"

Aang laughed softly, having no real humor behind it, only a thorough sadness.

"Because..." He hesitated, struggling to put years of complicated feelings into something coherent. 

"Well...I loved her."

Sokka's expression softened immediately.

"Yeah. We all saw it, Aang."

Aang stared out toward the city.

"That's why this whole thing confused everyone so much. From our perspective, eight months ago you still looked completely in love with her."

The guilt returned immediately, it seemed to follow every thought lately.

Every memory.

Every mention of Katara.

"Is it normal?" he asked after a while. "For feelings to change that quickly?"

Sokka frowned.

"What do you mean?"

Aang shrugged helplessly.

"I don't know." His fingers tightened slightly around the railing. "I feel guilty about it sometimes. One day I was thinking about Katara, and then..." A small smile appeared despite himself. "Then I met her."

Even now the thought alone made his chest feel lighter.

"It happened so fast," he admitted. "I barely noticed it happening."

For several moments, Sokka simply stared at him, then he awkwardly patted his shoulder.

"Wow."

Aang groaned immediately.

"Stop."

"No, wait." Sokka rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm just trying to figure out how to explain this."

Aang waited.

Eventually, Sokka spoke again.

"It's not like you stopped loving Katara."

The statement confused him, and if he was being truthful, it scared him.

"What?"

Sokka leaned back against the railing.

"I love Suki."

There wasn't even a hint of hesitation behind the words.

"I really love Suki."

Then Sokka smiled faintly.

"But that doesn't mean I stopped loving Yue."

Aang's expression shifted immediately, the comparison clearly hadn't occurred to him.

"She's someone I'll love for the rest of my life."

"But..." Aang began before stopping himself, but Sokka already knew what he wanted to say.

"I know."

His voice softened.

"I know it's different."

For a moment, his thoughts drifted toward the girl who had become the moon, toward the first person he'd ever truly loved.

"Yue isn't here anymore."

The old ache remained, and frankly, it always would. Yet it no longer consumed him.

"It wasn't like I fell in love with Suki because Yue was gone," he continued. "And it wasn't like loving Suki erased what I felt before."

Aang remained silent, listening as Sokka shook his head.

"I think that's where I was being a hypocrite. I'm sorry."

The admission felt strangely relieving.

"I spent all this time acting like your feelings had to stay exactly the same forever, but that's not how people work." He looked toward the apartment behind them briefly before continuing. "If you loved Katara, then you loved Katara. If you fell in love with your wife afterwards, then you fell in love with your wife."

The answer sounded ridiculously simple.

Yet somehow it eased something inside Aang that had been weighing on him for months.

"I think it's okay that your feelings changed," Sokka said quietly. "And I was wrong to act like they shouldn't have."

"As for Katara, she'll be fine. I mean, she's a badass." Sokka smiled, looking proud of at the though of his sister.

"You shouldn't feel guilty for loving someone. If you love her, then do it completely; it's not fair to your wife."

The meeting had concluded nearly an hour ago, and the discussions that inevitably followed any council gathering had delayed their departure considerably.

By the time Aang and Katara finally emerged from the council building, the afternoon sun was at the highest peak, it having barely begun its gradual descent across Republic City. 

"You know," Katara began, adjusting the satchel hanging from her shoulder as they descended the broad stone staircase together, "you really do not need to attend every one of these meetings anymore."

Aang glanced toward her.

"I don't?"

A smile touched her lips.

"No." 

"You say that now, but what if you need me?" Aang added with a smile.

"I mean it." She stepped around a pair of council clerks carrying stacks of documents before continuing. 

"The restoration projects are moving along smoothly, the Air Acolytes have become more organized than ever, and after ten years of listening to you discuss every possible improvement for the temples, I think I can manage a meeting or two without your supervision."

Aang chuckled softly.

"It isn't about supervision."

"No?"

He shook his head.

"I just like knowing how things are going."

Katara looked unconvinced and Aang understood why. Truthfully, she probably knew the unspoken reason better than anyone.

The Air Temples had become his life's work in many ways. Every restored mural or relic recovered from forgotten ruins felt like another small piece of his people being returned to the world. 

Even after all these years, he found it difficult to step away entirely.

There was another reason too, one he kept to himself.

With everything currently happening within the Fire Nation, Zuko had been unable to attend several council matters recently despite remaining deeply invested in the city's future. 

Whenever Aang sat through one of these meetings, he often found himself making a mental note of things to relay later. He knew his friend well enough to understand that his absence did not lessen concern.

"I'm glad you came, though."

Katara's voice interrupted his thoughts. Before he could respond, she slipped the satchel from her shoulder and extended it toward him.

Aang accepted it automatically, immediately noticing the unexpected weight settling against his hand.

His brows lifted.

"What is this?"

A faint trace of satisfaction appeared on Katara's face.

"Open it."

The response made him suspicious. Carefully adjusting the strap around his wrist, he loosened the satchel and peered inside.

Confusion hit him first, then curiosity, then his face morphed into one of concern.

Several small objects rested within layers of protective cloth; fragments of carved stone, aged scroll cases, decorative pieces fashioned in the unmistakable style of the Air Nomads.

Aang looked up immediately.

"Where did these come from?"

"The Eastern Air Temple."

The answer did little to ease his concern, those temples were sacred for him. It had taken him years to even let the Air Acolytes settle in the Southern Air Temple.

Even now, decades later, he found himself uneasy whenever strangers ventured too deeply into places that had once belonged solely to his people.

Katara seemed to recognize the hesitation almost instantly.

"No one was digging through sacred chambers, Aang."

His expression must have betrayed him.

"We found them during restoration work near one of the outer structures." She paused briefly before adding, "And before you ask, this was Sokka's idea."

Aang blinked.

"Sokka?"

"He thought you would like the surprise."

That explained quite a lot.

"He supervised the entire recovery himself," Katara continued. "Every piece was catalogued before being transported. Nothing was damaged."

The concern gradually eased from his features.

Carefully, he reached into the satchel and lifted one of the smaller objects free.

The piece fit comfortably within his palm, though worn by time, faint traces of traditional Air Nomad carving remained visible along its surface.

He simply stared at it, thinking how it most likely it had once belonged to an ordinary monk whose name history had forgotten long ago.

His fingers tightened slightly around the relic before he carefully returned it to its place.

When he finally looked up, gratitude lingered plainly within his expression.

"Thank you."

The sincerity behind the words made Katara smile.

"You should probably thank Sokka."

"I'll do that too."

They continued walking after that, moving along one of the quieter paths overlooking the harbor.

"I have actually been considering expanding the Air Acolytes."

The admission came almost absentmindedly, spoken while Aang adjusted the satchel beneath his arm and continued down the path beside her. A faint smile lingered across his features, the sort of expression Katara had come to recognize whenever his mind drifted toward the future of Air Nomad culture.

"Oh?" She glanced toward him with visible surprise. "You're willing to take even more? The last time we spoke about it, you were turning people away."

Aang laughed softly.

"I know."

For years, Aang had remained almost impossibly selective regarding who could become an Air Acolyte.

"I only wanted people who genuinely ready to leave their lives behind and start anew," he explained after a moment, his fingers brushing absentmindedly against the strap of the satchel. 

"A lot of people loved the idea of being an Air Acolyte until they realized what it actually meant. The discipline, the lifestyle, the responsibility of preserving a culture they didn't grow up with. More than a few changed their minds once the reality of it settled in."

Katara nodded.

She remembered. There had been years where Aang seemed almost afraid to hope, afraid that every new acolyte would eventually leave.

"But now?" she asked.

Aang's smile softened.

"Now it feels different. There are people who genuinely want to learn," he continued. "Not just because I'm the Avatar. They want to understand who the Air Nomads were. They want to preserve our teachings. They want to help keep those traditions alive."

His voice lowered slightly as Katara listened quietly.

"It took me a long time to realize that preserving my culture doesn't mean doing it alone."

"What changed your mind?" she asked gently.

Aang laughed again, though this time there was a faint trace of embarrassment behind it.

"I talked about it with my wife." He rubbed the back of his neck.

The answer made her blink.

"Really?"

Aang nodded.

"And I realized I was being stubborn."

Katara could not help the laugh that escaped her.

"Well, you were."

His groan followed instantly.

"I know."

"You spent years acting as though every person interested in Air Nomad culture was secretly trying to ruin it."

"Can you blame me?" Aang shook his head, though he was smiling now, and Katara found herself smiling as well despite everything.

After a while Katara nudged his shoulder lightly.

"You should head home."

Katara spoke lightly. The council meeting had consumed most of their energy and after spending the better part of the previous night crossing half the world on Appa's back, Aang looked far more tired than he appeared willing to admit.

Aang nodded absentmindedly. "I probably will."

The answer immediately drew her attention. It was the word probably that made her glance toward him.

"Probably?" she repeated.

Aang's mouth curved into a smile.

"My wife isn't exactly home."

That earned a look of confusion.

"Where is she?"

"The Fire Nation."

Katara's pace slowed slightly before she caught herself. "The Fire Nation?"

Aang nodded, adjusting the satchel resting against his side. 

"I've been spending so much time there lately helping Zuko deal with everything that's been happening that he eventually offered to let her stay at the palace rather than leave her alone every time I had to travel."

Understanding gradually settled across her features.

"Oh. That was nice of him."

"Yeah."

Aang merely shrugged, though there was unmistakable gratitude behind the gesture. Whatever difficulties currently plagued the Fire Nation, Zuko had gone out of his way to welcome you. 

Although, there been a some doubt in his heart about Zuko's intentions after what you told him, Aang knew his friend well enough to understand that such consideration did not come naturally to everyone.

"So you'll be heading back tonight?" Katara asked. Aang considered the question briefly before shaking his head.

"Probably tomorrow at dawn. Appa deserves some rest first."

Katara nodded. That seemed reasonable. The poor sky bison had likely flown farther in the last two days than most people traveled in months.

"Then would you like to come by for lunch?" she offered. "You've spent most of the last day traveling, and judging by the fact that you're still standing upright, I assume you've forgotten to eat properly again."

Aang looked almost offended.

"I was actually planning on going out anyway."

Katara looked toward him curiously.

"Oh?"

A grin slowly appeared across his face, carrying the same boyish energy that somehow never seemed to disappear no matter how much older he became.

"Would you like to come with me?"

She studied him for a moment, attempting to determine whether it would be okay to do so. Things felt like they were finally back to normal, sharing this conversation like the thousands they had shared before.

Eventually she smiled.

"Sure."

chapter fourteen coming soon...

a/n: i know a lot of lovely readers do come to my inbox after reading the chapters, and i promise to get to them as soon as i can ~(>_<。)＼

[taglist open] (please mention under the latest chapter or the story masterlist)

masterlist

Diplomacy was near synonymous with your family name. 

Your parents met as diplomats, their parents were diplomats, so on and so forth. Inevitably, you would walk their path as well. 

As the Fire Lord’s number 1 diplomat, your duty was to oversee matters concerning Republic City. 

But as the Fire Lord’s one and only spouse, other matters took priority as well. 

Specifically, making sure your husband doesn’t turn into an emo, broody, yearning mess. 

You’d like to think you were good at that, at least. Having been married for a few years, you knew when the distance became too long and the desire to be together came with a vengeance. 

You’d had to take more frequent trips due to the building of republic city so maybe he’d gotten used to it. 

Yeah, he was probably alright. 

-x- 

Zuko was about to burn down the palace and everyone within it. His cultural advisors were going first. 

“Have a gala, they said. Without your spouse, they said. Why are you scaring away the civilians, they said.” His angry muttering went unheard by the nobles around him, who continued to prattle on about ceremonies and nation morale. 

Zuko took a breath. Patience, he thought. Focus. Just a few more weeks. 

He finally managed to escape the meeting. In his opinion it ran far too late and could have been a letter. 

On the thought of letters, he roamed through the halls, thinking about sending one to you, till he instinctively walked into his uncle’s tea room.

There stood Uncle Iroh, preaching tea preparation methods to an unsuspecting soldier who happened to be patrolling that wing of the palace. 

“Nephew!” Iroh called enthusiastically, “Come have some jasmine tea with my new friend here!” 

The guard gave Zuko a panicked look. 

Zuko sighed. “I think the head guard was calling for you, you should probably go see to that.” 

The guard exhaled in relief. He bowed deeply and left, just quickly enough to not seem like he was running away. 

“Tell me, how was your day?” Iroh poured a cup of tea and placed it in front of the Firelord. 

Zuko took a sip of his tea, the warmth soothing. “It was long. Boring.”

Iroh hummed. “What is really bothering you, Zuko? Your mood is like bitter tea.” 

Zuko sighed. “I miss my spouse, Uncle. I miss them a lot.” 

“Have you told them? That you don’t enjoy them going away?” 

“It’s for the good of all the nations, we can’t stop it.” 

“Then flow with it. Send letters, keep mementos, make the distance a little less unbearable.” 

Zuko took another sip of tea and thought about it. A soft smile slowly graced his face. Bridge the gap huh, he could do that. 

-x-

You dragged your exhausted body into the luxurious guest room the Earth Kingdom had given you. You flopped onto your bed, not bothering to slip out of your robes. 

Your head still raced with city hall construction plans, borders and each nation’s role in the development of Republic City. 

Just as your eyes slipped shut, a tap tap came from your elaborately carved balcony door. You groaned and pulled yourself up to open it. 

Please let it not be an assassin, you thought. Or let it, to end my suffering. 

You pulled the door open and were greeted with the Fire Lord’s personal dragon hawk, Hawky II- name courtesy of Sokka. It happily squawked at you, perching on your shoulder after dropping a scroll in your hand. You scratched its chin as you made your way back to the bed. 

Hawky II stayed on your shoulder as you opened the letter, greeted with your husband’s recently-turned-regal scrawl. 

My Dearest, 

Words cannot describe how much I miss you. Because I miss you a lot, and I’m not very good with my words but I’ll try. 

The palace is really empty without you. I miss your warmth in bed, I miss your smile every morning when you wake up, I miss your presence at every meal, I miss you. 

I know you’re very busy, I know your work is important, but I can’t help count down the days till you’re back in my arms. 

Horrible things have started happening in court with your absence. The ministers have suggested a gala to help raise nation morale in the capital and I nearly had a heart attack when they suggested a day when you are not here for the event. It is a miracle I managed to convince them otherwise. 

Uncle thinks these letters are a good idea to bridge the gap, but it’s not the same as having you with me. There’s a little gift in here too, to show by action rather than words that I love you. 

Affectionately yours, 

Zuko 

Attached at the end was a delicately pressed fire lily. 

A smile split your face as you finished the letter. Hawky II let out an indignant caw and flew onto your bedpost as you fell back onto the plush sheets of your bed. You clutched the letter to your chest like a lovesick teenager, already planning to smother your husband with all the love and affection you could muster when you get back. 

You let out a lovesick sigh, rolling over to push yourself off the bed with one hand, the other still clutching the letter and the flower. You set it down on your ornate wooden dressing table, pulled out your own parchment and started writing.

-x-

Hawky II was back in the Fire Nation's main palace by dawn.

Zuko blearily awoke to the feeling of talons digging into his arm. He blinked the haze away and noticed a letter tied to Hawky II's leg. He quickly sat up and coaxed the dragon hawk off his arm. He untied the letter and a multiple flowers slipped out. He set the letter aside and gathered the blooms. They were recently picked and were of various types and colors.

Zuko glanced at the letter, picking it up to see what you had replied.

My love,

You are literally impossible. It is taking all my willpower not to return home this instant. If Hawky II could carry me, I'd be there by now. Alas he is a dragon hawk, not a dragon, and here I am, an ocean away.

I want nothing more than to be back home. Back to my people, my chambers, and most importantly you, my husband.

I must give those courtiers a piece of my mind when I return. How dare they throw a party without me.

I loved your present, it somehow makes the homesickness better and worse. In return, here are a few souvenirs I may or may not have sneakily acquired from the gardens of the diplomats' inn. But that is a story for when I get back.

Entrusted to Hawky II's loyal talons are violets, tulips and camellias. All local Earth Kingdom flowers found nowhere else. Thankfully the gardener had not gone home yet and was able to help me with picking the right blooms. Violets are for love beyond distance, purple tulips are for longing and camellias are just to say I miss you.

Maybe next time you could come with me? It's been a while since we got away. It'll still be work, but you being there would make things a little more bearable. Till then, I'll be thinking of you tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.

Yours forever

You had signed your name with a flourish.

Zuko couldn't put the letter down, reading and rereading it just to hear your voice again.

He picked up the neatly wrapped flowers, remnants of their fragrance still preserved on them and their packaging.

Hawky II flew back over to perch on his shoulder and nipped his ear, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Right, Zuko thought. I'm still the Fire Lord.

He pushed aside his bedcovers, got dressed for the day and set off toward his first meeting, already planning what to write.

-x-

A few hours and too many meetings later, Zuko found himself at the turtleduck pond nestled within the palace gardens. He had this one built privately, just for him and the royal consort.

He sat at the small table next to it and laid down his parchment, picking up his brush to begin writing. Right before his brush touched the paper, he paused.

Was he being too clingy with the letters? This was the longest you had been gone but he was the Fire Lord, he should be able to take care of himself.

Realistically, he knew you wouldn't mind. But what if you were tired or busy or wanted a break.

In the end, his hesitation was overshadowed by his ache for your proximity. The sound of water lapping softly at the edges of the pond soothed his thoughts as he began writing.

My Sun and Stars…

-x-

My Sun and Stars,

This is probably the most frequent we have been in contact since you were away. This is also the longest you've been away since our marriage. I hope I'm not bothering you. I know you'd tell me if I was.

Anyway, I'm more concerned about the "sneaky acquisition" of those flowers. What did you do. We went to the Earth Kingdom for diplomacy, not flora heists.

No gifts this time as a desperate attempt to stop you from stealing any more plants.

Please don't get into any trouble.

Yours,

Zuko

Unfortunately for your husband, you were already in the gardens of the diplomats' inn at dusk when you were reading the letter. It was inevitable that you would snag a few plants as gifts for him. At least you weren't wandering the gardens at midnight like last time.

You had borrowed a book on flowers and their meanings in the old Earth Kingdom and that came in handy when picking out the flowers.

Now here you were, squinting at your book in the waning sunlight and trying to match the images to the flowers you wanted to pick.

Finally, you found it. The Earth Kingdom lily.

You returned to your room, book and bloom clutched in hand and sat as your desk. You lit the candle and began to write.

My love,

Fear not, no gardens were snuck into this time. The negotiations are going well and I do deserve a vacation after all the arguing I've done with stubborn Earth Kingdom officials.

You could never bother me by being a good husband and keeping in touch. In fact, I order twice as many letters from here on out.

I'm coming home soon. Wait for me.

Yours,

You stuck the flowers at the end of the letter and tied up the scroll. You gave the letter a kiss before walking to your balcony railing where Hawky II had been resting.

"I'm sorry for making you fly so much," you whisper as you tie the letter to his leg.

The dragon hawk squawked in return and took off, delivering your final letter of this journey to your love.

-x-

It hardly ever rained in the Fire Nation. It was never a good day for fire benders since the rainwater would extinguish their flames. But today, on the day you were supposed to come home, dark storm clouds draped the skies, threatening to pour down on the palace.

The palace was buzzing with anticipation. Finally the day had come for the royal consort to come home. It had been nearly 2 months since you had left and finally you were returning home.

The most excited for your return was obviously your Fire Lord.

You were supposed to leave the Earth Kingdom port at dawn, making your arrival time in the Fire Nation Royal Port around noon.

Your husband had been waiting at the port since dawn.

Unfortunately, the rain had been waiting too.

It hardly ever rained in the Fire Nation. It was never a good day for fire benders since the rainwater would extinguish their flames. But today, on the day you were supposed to come home, dark storm clouds draped the skies, threatening to pour down on the palace.

It had already started drizzling as Zuko stood at the port, an attendant holding an umbrella over him.

Uncle Iroh waited beside him, under the umbrella, keeping Zuko from going crazy with impatience.

"Uncle for the last time, I don't need any calming tea," Zuko groaned.

A guard ran up to the duo. "Lord Zuko! I see the ship!"

Zuko had to fight the urge to propel himself into the air just to see you sooner.

The boat was coming closer, but it wasn't soon enough. His hands itched with anticipation just to hold you again.

He stared down the boat as the rain picked up, mentally pleading for it to dock faster.

Finally, after a wait that felt like 100 years, the helm dropped and he spotted you. The world seemed to slow down.

It was just you and him.

A man and his love.

You spotted him, and broke out into a run, leaving your own umbrella behind.

There was only one thing that mattered on your mind and it was him.

He matched your pace, sprinting towards you, arms out.

You both collided in a mess of arms, laughs, rainwater and tears. His arms wrapped around your waist and yours holding his face.

You pressed your forehead to his, grinning as tears rolled down both your cheeks, blending with the rain.

The rain raged around you but the storm in your heart had stopped.

I'm home," you whispered, not wanting to ruin the sanctity of the moment.

"Welcome home," he murmured back, his eyes closed.

You let go of his face and buried your face in his soaked robes, inhaling his scent and letting his presence wash over you.

Zuko was in a similar state, holding you tighter as you were finally back to him.

Your own clothes started getting drenched and the sea breeze made you shiver, but nothing mattered anymore.

You're buzzing with excitement, knowing you're going to see the 49-year-old Leon S. Kennedy in his glory after playing Grace's part at the Wrenwood Hotel. You have been anticipating the release of Resident Evil Requiem ever since you saw the trailer for the game. Now that it's in your Steam library, you have been itching to play the game after work.

You're sitting at your desk, knees pressing against your chest as the cut scene plays before you. Your heart is still pounding against your chest after you manage to escape from the infected police officer, Cole. You watch Grace collapse in the strange man's iron grip, her body slumping to the side, and the screen goes black.

"Is it finally happening?" You whisper, leaning forward towards the monitor, and watch the series of police cars slowly appear on the screen, before cutting to a scene where it shows a dead body with strange blotches on the palm of the deceased's hand. Your eyes light up. "It is! It is it is it is!"

The man—obviously, it's thee Leon S. Kennedy—gets up from where he was kneeling and leaves the area that is blocked off with crime scene tape.

"Talk to me. Is this one like the others?" A woman's voice breaks through the sound of pouring rain as the man walks towards the CRIME SCENE DO NOT CROSS and POLICE LINE DO NOT CROSS tape.

"Same black blotches." He ducks under the tape and continues to walk past the police cars at the crime scene.

"And it's not postmortem lividity?" The mission coordinator asks.

"No." He turns toward the area where his car is parked. "No, this is different. That's six now. Six survivors of Raccoon City, all dead from the same thing." The scene switches to the inside of the car.

"Yeah, that's… not good."

"No… No, it's not." The car door opens, and the investigator gets into the car before closing it.

You lean in your seat, biting your bottom lip. God, his voice is so husky. You continue watching the cut scene, completely immersed and enamored by the sight of the man you will be playing as very soon, once the cut scene is over. The mission coordinator proceeds to give additional information to the mysterious man.

You already know who this mysterious man is behind the wheel. But when the bottom half of his face is shown in the rear-view mirror, you audibly gasp and continue to watch the cut scene, watching the man grab his gun and pop out the cylinder, spinning it around before popping it back in, while the mission coordinator continues to speak in his intercom.

The minute the game finally reveals Leon's face, you gasp. "Oh my—Leon, you're so handsome."

For about thirty seconds, Leon doesn't respond to the woman on the other end of his intercom. His eyebrows slightly furrow, his eyes scanning his surroundings. Did he just hear someone else's voice? It's certainly not the mission coordinator. What the hell?

"You there, Leon?" The mission coordinator asks, bringing him out of his thoughts.

Leon nods. "Yeah. I'm here."

"You okay?" Leon can hear the woman raise her eyebrows as she waits for his response.

Leon doesn't respond to her question. Leon glances in his rear-view mirror, checking to see if a random woman may have sneaked into his car, but he sees no one. Leon pushes the start button of his Porsche Cayenne Turbo GT, and the black luxury car purrs to life.

"Send me the address," Leon says, putting his car in reverse and turning halfway. "I'll check it out." Leon puts his gearshift into drive before he drives off into the night.

You stare at the dark screen after watching Leon's car disappear into the night—your mouth agape. You're so glad that you spent $69.99 for this game. You could spend additional money on the deluxe version, but you wanted to finish the game first before deciding whether a deluxe version is worth buying.

You end up playing the game for a little over an hour. You're now on Grace's part of the game, where you need to find a screwdriver for the fuse box in Rhodes Hill Chronic Care Center. You didn't know what got into you when you chose to play the standard classic mode rather than casual or standard modern mode.

"God, I'm so stupid. Why am I doing this to myself?" You mutter after Grace grabs the ink ribbon in the room that you unlocked with the Cherub Key. "Limited autosaves, and I need to save my gameplay wisely. Why did I choose this mode again?"

You're roaming around the area as Grace—you're playing in first-person point of view—trying to gather the courage to go to the nursing station. It's so dark that you have to squint to see in the darkness. As much as you want to change the setting to make it a little brighter for you to see in the dark, where's the fun in that?

"It's okay! I can do this! Everything will be okay, and nothing will happen!" You try to give yourself a pep talk, having Grace walk to the nursing station with a tiny lighter in her hand, illuminating her path. Just as Grace approaches the door, a cut scene is triggered, and an infected corpse falls through the door, scaring both you and Grace.

Grace leans down and touches the corpse's neck. "He's dead." Grace states the obvious.

"I would hope so." You mutter, mentally preparing for what's to come.

After Grace moves the man's head, a large hand emerges from the darkness and grabs the infected corpse. Grace lets out a choked gasp, watching in horror as the grotesque monster brings the dead body up to her mouth and bites off the head.

Its eyes lock on Grace, mouth and teeth stained with blood, and it leans towards Grace. You flinch back from your monitor, questioning your choices on playing the game in the dead of night. After the cut scene ends, you immediately turn around and leave the nursing station with the monster at your (Grace's?) tail.

"Come on, come on, come on! Can you please run any faster, Grace?" You panic, shaking your legs as you run to the nearest room that has lights. When you successfully run to Room 203, you turn around to see the grotesque monster at the entrance of the room.

The monster steps into the room, causing Grace to fearfully yell out, "Don't come any closer!"

The monster's gray skin starts sizzling and burning from the lights in the room. It shrieks and steps outside the room. You and Grace watch the monster climb up a hole in the ceiling, leaving Grace alone at last. Just when you thought you were safe, the lights in the room went out, sending chills and shivers down your spine.

You run out of the room, heart pounding against your chest. After you make it back to the nursing station, you grab the med injector and start searching for the screwdriver for the fuse box. You can hear blood pounding in your ears, listening to Grace's shaky breath.

You search around the room and eventually have to move the cart. But before you do that, you move it slightly and open the locker to see a green herb.

"This could be useful," Grace mutters, grabbing it.

You climb onto the cart, grabbing the antique coin from the top of the locker before getting off. You grab the cart and start pushing towards the shelf where you spotted a red toolbox perched on top. Just as you're halfway to the shelf, a metal tray slides off the cart and clatters loudly to the ground, causing you and Grace to freeze momentarily.

You hear chains and shackles dragging on the floor, followed by heavy footsteps that are heading towards the nursing station where Grace is. Out of sheer panic, you grab the cart and move it closer to the shelf, ignoring the other items falling off and crashing to the ground.

You catch a glimpse of the creature through the window, slamming her hand against the glass while walking towards the nursing station. At this point, your heart is in your throat, and you're close to pausing the game and ending it there for the night, but the issue is that you still need to save the game, and if you don't, you have to redo where it last auto-saved.

Once the cart is close enough to the shelf, you climb onto it and grab the red toolbox, unlatching it and taking out the screwdriver. You sigh in relief, hopping off the cart and running to the nearest hiding spot. You extinguish the flames of Grace's lighter, staring at the door while listening to the monster getting closer to where you're having Grace hide.

The monster's hand suddenly appears, grabbing onto the doorframe before walking into the room. It sniffs the air, walking further into the room and looking around. It gets close to where the cart is and lets out a frenzied growl, swiping at the cart, causing it to fly to the desk. Grace whimpers.

You take it as a sign to start running. Before the mutated creature can turn and look in your and Grace's direction, you have Grace leave the hiding spot and start sprinting in the darkness. Since the creature turned the lights off in Room 203, you start running to the room where the typewriter sits. Before you pass the nursing station, the door bursts open, and the monster appears.

You briefly pause the game, staring at the menu in horror. Your heart is thudding painfully against your chest as you try to calm down. You lean back in your seat, heavily debating if you should just stop there.

"But I made so much progress. I have the screwdriver. I just need to find a way to get Grace to go around the monster, run to Room 201, get the fuse from the fuse box in that very room, and run to the other fuse box where I got the Cherub Key."

You take a deep breath and close your eyes. God, this is horrifying. Playing the game in first person point of view makes it even scarier than you anticipated. You give yourself a pep talk before unpausing the game. Grace cries out in fear, freezing in fear when the monster fully reveals itself in front of Grace.

You start mashing the buttons, begging for Grace to start moving or else she's dead. "Come on, come on, come on! We gotta go, or else we're next, Grace!"

As if she heard you, Grace turns around and starts running to the other entrance of the nursing station where the two of you came from. Grace hides near the desk in the nursing station, panting as the two of you wait and listen to the monster walk past the nursing station over and over.

"This is horrifying." You mutter, hands trembling on your mouse and keyboard. "Is the empty bottle even going to work in this situation?" You creep towards the door where the monster burst from, trying to see where it is.

You take the empty bottle out of Grace's inventory and aim for the furthest part of the hallway—close to where the plant was knocked over—and toss the bottle. The bottle shatters, grabbing the creature's attention. It shrieks and charges towards where the bottle landed, giving you and Grace a small window to escape your hiding spot.

You have Grace sprint to Room 201 as fast as she could, but it feels like Grace wasn't running at all from first person perspective. It feels more like a power walk rather than Grace running for her life. Halfway down the hallway, you and Grace hear the monster shrieking and charging towards where you're heading.

"Hurry, hurry!"

Grace pushes the door aside and makes it to the room where the typewriter sits. You sigh in relief, blood pounding in your ears. Grace takes a few steps towards where the fuse box is, only for the entire building to shake and the lights to flicker and turn off.

"We need to get that fuse and get the hell out of here as soon as possible," You say, making Grace go to the fuse box inside the closet. You unscrew the fuse box with the screwdriver, and Grace takes out the fuse, triggering a cut scene.

Grace stares at the fuse, "Alright," she mutters. Grace turns around, and just when she can leave the closet, you and Grace hear a faint thud coming above her. Grace gasps and looks up at the gaping hole in the ceiling of the closet in horror.

Grace takes a step back, eyes still locked on the hole. "Oh my god," Grace whispers.

The monster starts climbing into the room where Grace is, causing Grace to gasp and start panicking. The cut scene suddenly ends, and now you find yourself forcing Grace to turn around and make a run for it to the fuse box where the Cherub Key was located.

The lights shatter, and the building rumbles as Grace runs through the dark hallways of Rhodes Hill Chronic Care Center. When you press 'F' at the fuse box, a cut scene is triggered, showing Grace shoving the fuse into the fuse box, pressing the button, and quickly looking back as the security gate slowly pulls up.

You watch Grace drop to the ground and quickly crawl underneath the moving gate. "Come on, come on, come on, come on, come on!" Grace pleads as she crawls through the gate, and the monster appears where Grace came from. You collapse in your seat, sighing in relief, happy that you have gotten through the first (among many) difficult parts of the game.

The monitor goes black before switching to another cut scene—but it starts with showing Leon's Porsche driving through the gate of Rhodes Hill Chronic Care Center and to the front. Leon exits the car, and you gasp in awe, completely enamored by the mere sight of Leon S. Kennedy.

"God, he looks so good." You whisper breathlessly as you watch him walk to the door of the facility after closing the car door. "Why can't you be real?" You lament, resting your chin on your knees as you continue watching the cut scene unfold.

Leon stands in the central hall, his eyes scanning his surroundings. It's quiet, too quiet. But despite how quiet it is in the facility, Leon still hears the same voice he heard earlier near the crime scene he left before arriving at the sanatorium. Maybe he's going crazy, and the side effects of the T-virus are starting to get to him.

You watch the nurse appear behind Leon, calling out to him and informing him that Dr. Gideon was expecting him.

"Funny. I don't remember getting an invitation," Leon's sarcastic response makes you snort, shaking your head. Leon hears the faint snort, the corners of his lips barely curving up into a smile.

The nurse continues speaking to Leon, telling him that Dr. Gideon is waiting for him. Leon soon follows after the nurse as she guides him to who knows where. The cut scene continues a little longer, only for the nurse to lead Leon to the rehabilitation ward. The door closes behind Leon, making him turn around. Then the cut scene ends there, and now you're in control of Leon.

You don't move Leon, watching him on the screen and admiring his design. God, the developers at Capcom really went all out for Leon. You spin the camera around, continuing to admire him. Leon looks around the facility, wondering why he couldn't move despite trying to. It's like he's locked in place until someone commands him to move. The nurse is waiting at the end of the hallway, waiting for him to follow.

"Okay, I need to get moving and stop getting easily distracted by Leon," You say to yourself, finally controlling Leon's movements and proceeding to follow the nurse as Leon.

The nurse explains about the facility and what they do at the sanatorium as both Leon and the nurse continue walking down the hall. Leon has no idea where the nurse is leading him, and neither do you, but judging by the map, it's probably to your (mainly Leon's) doom.

"The facility keeps a low profile due to the sensitive nature of the research," The nurse says, walking to the rehabilitation center of the facility.

"Oh, I bet it does," Leon replies, as he follows the nurse throughout the facility.

You hum, eyebrows furrowing at the conversation between Leon and the nurse of the strange facility. "That's something someone suspicious would say," You mutter, face scrunching up. You're so glad that you haven't dealt with any horrors as Leon just yet. "You have a mutated monster stomping around your facility right now, too."

Leon raises his eyebrows at your comment, still questioning if he's going crazy. Leon glances around, then at the nurse, but she doesn't seem to notice anything strange—or hear a woman's voice for that matter—and continues making her way to the room at the end of the rehabilitation ward. Once Leon gets closer to the room and the nurse, a new cut scene starts for you.

You yawn, stretching in your seat, watching the nurse leave Leon alone in the room and closing the door behind her as she leaves. The camera zooms in on Leon, making your face scrunch up.

"God, this Dr. Gideon guy is way more obsessed with Leon than I am," You comment, watching Leon peek at every little thing in the room.

Leon raises his eyebrows at your comment. "Almost as you are? What do you mean by that?" Leon wants to ask. Instead, Leon chooses to stay silent, as saying things out loud would earn weird looks from whoever passes by the room he's in, or could land him in this exact facility.

Little did you know, Leon's searching around for where the voice is coming from. The woman's voice is loud and clear to him, and yet he sees no one. He's alone in this room, but he's been hearing voices in his head every now and then. The voice comes and goes, gushing over him and his skills; other times, the same voice would chime in after someone—who's conversing with Leon—says something.

Leon rests against the desk, reaching for the photograph of Victor Gideon and his medical team that runs the facility. Leon subconsciously furrows his eyebrows as he scrutinizes the image in his hand before setting it back down where he found it. Leon checks the time on his watch, his expensive watch appearing on your monitor.

"That looks expensive, but I shouldn't be surprised. You drive a Porsche Cayenne Turbo GT—that's probably the most expensive thing I've seen you own." You comment, watching the time tick away on Leon's watch.

Much to your disappointment, the cut scene soon comes to an end after the nurse is killed by the chainsaw-wielding doctor. You're soon in control of Leon again and have to kill every infected person in the surrounding area with a chainsaw, which you're not a fan of.

"This thing is a bit hard to wield around. It kind of slows me down, and after Leon plunges the chainsaw into a zombie, I would need to retrieve it again from said zombie…" You sigh, shaking your head. "Oh, shit." The chainsaw drops to the ground and starts spinning out of control.

You force Leon out of the way, trying to avoid getting hit by the out-of-control chainsaw. A zombie nurse charges at Leon with her arms outstretched, trying to grab him. You try shooting the nurse with the requiem gun, but miss.

"Fuck. My aim is atrocious. I am so sorry, Leon. You're supposed to be cool, but I'm making you look like an amateur loser." You frown.

Leon frowns. "Amateur loser? Who are you calling an amateur loser?" Leon mouths to himself, continuing to aim his gun at the infected nurse.

You try shooting the nurse as she gets closer to Leon, but before you can shoot, the nurse lunges at Leon. You let out a choked gasp, assuming Leon is done for, but he ducks underneath the nurse's grasp and shoots her at the back of the head, blood spewing all over the place when her head explodes.

"Whoa!" You gasp, eyes wide in awe. "How did you do that?!" You exclaim, pausing briefly to look at what buttons you've pressed, but you're too busy mashing different buttons to know the actual controls of the dodge he just did.

You unpause the game. "Leon, can you do that again?" You ask yourself, shooting every zombie that's charging at Leon at full speed. How the hell did you do that again? You really need to know what the controls are, or else you won't be able to pull that cool move ever again.

As more zombies emerge from the other rooms in the rehabilitation ward, you shoot every zombie in the head successfully despite having bad aim. An infected doctor lunges at Leon, causing you to panic momentarily, miss your shot, and giving the zombie an opportunity to grab onto Leon and bite down on his shoulders.

"Ah, fuck! I'm so sorry, Leon!"

Leon cries out in pain as he thrashes around, trying to get the zombie to release. You press on your mouse frantically, watching Leon's health bar rapidly deplete at a dangerous pace, the longer the zombie bites down on Leon's shoulders. Leon reaches for his hatchet and attacks the zombie, causing it to back away.

"I really need to learn how to properly parry and aim." You grumble, aiming Leon's requiem gun at the zombie and shoot, only to miss again. "Man, I'm making Leon look uncool, what the fuck."

The zombie lunges at Leon again, and before you can panic, Leon dodges under the zombie's arm and shoots it at the back of its head. The adrenaline dies down, and Leon is left alone in the rehabilitation ward, surrounded by headless zombies.

The only sounds you hear are the sounds of the chainsaw and Leon's heavy breathing, his health bar yellow rather than green. Before escaping the ward, you have Leon search around the room for a healing item. You could use the green herb in your inventory, but it's not enough to fully heal Leon.

"It's okay, Leon! You're going to be okay! You're not going to die under my watch, no matter how bad I am with aiming and parrying." You reassure the DSO agent, picking up the mixed herbs from the glass cabinet that Leon broke. After picking up the mixed herbs, you immediately use them, watching Leon's health bar slightly go up.

You continue playing the game until almost four in the morning, only having to end your gameplay after Leon's cut scene with Victor Gideon after your Mom peeks into your room, scaring the shit out of you.

"Why are you still awake?!" Your Mom asks, staring at you in horror.

You point at your monitor, a cut scene of Leon tied up to a chair playing on your screen. Your Mom peeks at your computer and sighs, shaking her head before leaving your room, muttering under her breath about how you need to stop staying up so late.

You turn back to your monitor, taking multiple screenshots of Leon tied to the chair while Victor Gideon is almost sweet-talking to the DSO agent. You stare at Leon in awe, mouth agape. The side view of Leon on? Whew! His biceps are looking extra delicious.

You bite your bottom lip. "God, I would love to sink my teeth into those biceps of his." You lean back in your seat, groaning. "The ladies at Capcom did a fantastic job at designing Leon."

You watch Victor Gideon touch Leon, almost oh-so intimately. The way his gray fingers brush the strands of Leon's brown and silver hair. Ugh. You're so envious of Victor's privilege to even be in the presence of Leon Kennedy. You make sure to take multiple screenshots of Leon—frame by frame.

Leon can hear the camera shutters, raising an eyebrow. It's strange how Victor Gideon is touching him, and yet this voice in his head is swooning over him being tied up and touched by the former T-Virus researcher. Of course, he doesn't hear you mention a single thing about Victor, only about wanting to sink your teeth into his (your words, not his) beefy biceps.

"I don't like how he's touching you, Leon. He's practically fondling you." You grumble. "I should be the one to do that, not him. Just like how I should be the one to lunge at you and sink my teeth into your biceps, not those greedy zombies."

The camera cuts to Leon looking down while Victor Gideon softly says, "Are the answers to your disease here?" after pulling down Leon's shirt collar. Victor leans down, his face not far from Leon's. "Yes…." Victor whispers.

Leon flinches, his face pinching up with disgust. "You know, I do have a question," Leon says, looking at Victor, deadpanned. "When was the last time you brushed your teeth?"

Leon hears immediate laughter coming from you after asking. Leon's tempted to laugh as well, but because of the predicament he's in, he doesn't smile. The smile on Victor's face slips off, and he backs away from Leon and takes a few steps in front of Leon.

Mechanical whirring can be heard from Leon's end as Victor stares at him, zooming in on his face and his eyes. You take a quick screenshot, thanking Victor for being oddly meticulous when it comes to Leon. If it weren't for Victor, you wouldn't have a lot of screenshots of Leon added to your new collection.

The cut scene soon ends with you taking over fifty screenshots (you're pressing down on the screenshot button, taking screenshots of every frame), and you find yourself back in control of Leon. You frown, letting out a wistful sigh. "I'm going to need to find a stopping point and go to bed. Let's trigger an auto save somewhere, and I'll continue when I wake up." You say to yourself.

You make it to where Leon needs to go and stop in front of a metal cabinet storage that's blocking a doorway. You poke the inside of your cheek with your tongue, approaching said cabinet storage with a cheeky smile. Oh, you are going to enjoy this!

You press 'F,' and Leon starts lifting the cabinet to move it out of the way, his biceps and back muscles flexing as he lets out a grunt. Before Leon successfully moves the cabinet out of the way, you suddenly release the 'F' key.

"Oh, fuck, my hands slipped." You say to no one.

It's a good thing Leon's back is facing your monitor because if it were facing his direction, you would've seen an eye roll from him along with a shy smile. Leon knows what you're doing; he's not stupid. You press the 'F' key again, watching Leon lift the cabinet, his biceps flexing underneath that tight shirt of his. Again, before Leon can fully move the obstacle out of the way, you release the keys.

You huff. "Man, my keyboard is messed up. I really need to get a new one because for some reason, it's not lasting long," You say with a shit-eating grin on your face. "I have a bad feeling that this keyboard is going to give me… issues the longer I play this game with a broken keyboard."

"Oh, yeah?" Leon mutters, shaking his head with a small smirk, his shoulders shaking from his quiet laughter. He can get used to hearing your commentary while he's handling the shit show that's happening at Rhodes Hill Chronic Care Center.

Finally, after some time, you finally have Leon move the metal cabinet, relishing in the sight of his muscles flexing underneath his shirt, and the sound of his grunts as he does so. Leon S. Kennedy, the man that you are! The autosave button appears in the top left corner of the screen, signaling you to go to bed.

With a heavy heart, you bid Leon goodnight—as if he could hear you—before pausing and exiting the game. You plop onto your bed after the game closes and roll on your bed, eyelids feeling heavy after staring at your monitor for who knows how long. You close your eyes and drift into a dreamless sleep.

A few hours into your sleep, you wake up to the feeling of your bedroom shaking, forcing yourself to crack your eyes open briefly and stare up at the ceiling, still groggy from your slumber. You rub your eyes, mumbling to yourself, and turn over on your right side before going back to sleep. Earthquakes are common, so waking up to one isn't out of the ordinary. Nothing seems out of the norm, but little did you know, this isn't any other earthquake you've dealt with in the past.

That is, until you wake up to someone shaking you nonstop. "Hey, can you hear me? Wake up!" The voice says as the shaking continues.

You groan, trying to turn over and ignore whoever is shaking you. "Not now." You mumble, eyebrows furrowing.

Whoever is shaking you is very persistent, as they continue to do something to try to rouse you from your sleep. The person starts lightly patting your cheek, muttering about how you need to wake up and stop ignoring them. You finally crack your eyes open after a while, vision blurry from your sleep. A blurry face is hovering above yours, but as your vision gradually clears up, your heart nearly falls into your ass.

"Leon?" You whisper in disbelief, mind still foggy from your sleep.

Leon chuckles, sighing in relief. "Hey, Sleeping Beauty. Good to see those eyes of yours," Leon says, his eyes scanning the littlest details on your face. "I was worried you weren't going to wake up, but it seems like you're not a morning person, huh."

You don't respond to Leon as you slowly reach up and cup his face with both your hands, still trying to comprehend what's happening. Surely this is a dream, right? You did play Resident Evil Requiem for hours before going to bed, and Leon's the last thing you were thinking about before drifting to sleep.

"This is the most vivid dream I have ever had," You mutter, still holding Leon's face in your hands. "Man, it's going to be so disappointing when I wake up."

Leon stares down at you, confused. "What are you talking about?"

You shake your head, head falling to the side before sighing sadly. "This is the best dream I've ever had, and yet I'm going to get a rude awakening very soon once this ends." You lament.

"Aw, man. I think you hit your head pretty hard when you fell," Leon mutters, feeling around your head for a possible concussion.

You blink at Leon. "Of course, I fell for you. Who wouldn't fall for you?"

Leon shakes his head, the corner of his lips curling up. Despite everything, you still manage to be a sweet talker, much to Leon's amusement. Then again, you do think that this is all a dream. Leon's fingers brush a certain area on your head, earning a hiss from you. "I can feel a goose egg forming."

Now that your mind clears up and you're more awake than you were, you come to the realization that Leon is cradling you in his arms—his beefy arms. Wait, that means that his bicep is your pillow. You rub your eyes again, sitting up and looking around to see that you're not in your room. This dream is a bit too realistic for your liking, because why are you in the attic of Rhodes Hill Chronic Care Center?

Panic hits you like a train. Your head snaps towards Leon's direction. "This is a dream, right? I'm still asleep in my bed, right?" You start pinching yourself, but nothing is happening. "Oh, my god. This can't be real. This has to be a dream."

Leon doesn't say anything. Instead, he continues to stare at you, taking in every detail of your face, your hair, and your clothes. The longer Leon listens to you ramble, the more he realizes something.

His eyes light up. "You're the voice I've been hearing," Leon says, his arm still holding you up.

His comment makes you go silent. "Pardon?" You press your lips into a thin line. "What do you mean?"

Leon's lips curl up into a smile, shaking his head. "I don't think now is a good time to tell you when you're having an inner turmoil."

Maybe a hug will help you calm down a little, but given the things he heard you say a few hours before your arrival, it probably won't help. But it won't hurt to try, right? Leon pulls you into his arms, hugging you. Your cheek is cushioned against his chest, his beefy arms around your torso, and his chin is resting atop your head.

You wrap your arms around Leon's neck, feeling yourself melting in his arms. God, it feels so nice to hug him. You can't describe what it's like to hug Leon, but you can live in his arms if it's possible. You and Leon sit like that for a while. It doesn't feel weird or uncomfortable to be hugging someone you don't know—a fictional one, to be specific.

It's comforting and gives you a small window to collect your thoughts. You went to bed, but woke up to an earthquake before falling back asleep. Then you're roused from your sleep by Leon, who claimed that you hit your head when you fell. This is all so strange.

"How the hell did I get isekai'd into Resident Evil Requiem? I didn't get hit by a truck." You mutter to yourself, but it's loud enough for Leon to hear.

Leon raises his eyebrows, leaning down to look at your face from the side. "What does 'isekai' mean? And what do you mean by getting hit by a truck?" God, the creases between his eyebrows are so cute. You'd love to smooth the wrinkles over with your fingers.

"I will explain that to you after you tell me what you meant by 'you're the voice I've been hearing,'" You reply, looking up at him.

Leon stares at you for a moment, chuckling to himself. "Alright, alright, I'll tell you what I meant when I said that," Leon caves in.

Leon's not sure if he should look forward to your reaction after he explains everything to you. But hey, you did say that you want him to explain what he meant by what he said, so who is he to deny you? As Leon explains everything, he watches your reaction and body language closely.

The way your face fell was both comical and endearing because now you're covering your face out of sheer embarrassment, but you didn't cover your ears, letting him know that you're still listening despite your reaction. By the time Leon is done explaining, he has a wide smile on his face, the crow's feet at the corner of his eyes becoming noticeable.

You take a deep breath, trying not to have a mental breakdown after hearing Leon's explanation. "You heard everything." You say. Suddenly, you feel faint, but you can't faint in front of Leon. You can't embarrass yourself in front of Leon for the umpteenth time in a row.

Leon nods, still smiling. "That is correct."

"My cursing whenever you get bitten by a zombie."

"You curse like a sailor, but also like a child who was granted permission to curse by her parents." He replies.

You immediately protest. "What! No, I don't!" Do you? Man, this just keeps getting worse and worse for you. "… You also heard my thirst over your…"

"Beefy biceps, me using my hatchet to crack open a warped door, and you claiming that your keyboard is broken when I need to move the fallen metal cabinet in front of a doorway. I can go on, but I'm afraid that you'll have a heart attack if I continue." Leon says.

You hug your knees to your chest. At this point, you're more likely to die from embarrassment than from a zombie bite. You didn't know that Leon can hear everything you say! Does that mean Grace and Victor hear the things you say, too?

You peek at Leon, "Please tell me that no one else hears the things I say." You whisper.

Leon gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "You don't need to worry about that. As far as I know, I was the only person who heard your voice. It doesn't seem like Victor heard your voice, and as for that FBI agent—Grace Ashcroft, I'm not entirely sure."

After Leon's explanation, you choose to stay quiet. There's no need for you to embarrass yourself again in front of Leon, right? Leon checks his watch, and when he looks up, you're staring at him with stars in your eyes. Leon is even more beautiful in person. His hair looks so soft and healthy for someone who bleaches his hair often. God, the stubble… You love the scratchiness of it when you cupped his face in your hands.

Leon doesn't say anything; instead, he lets you do what makes you happy and stay sane. His eyes are blue, but they're not nearly as blue as it was when he was in his early twenties. Maybe they're still the same blue, but you would need to get a closer look at it—if he catches your drift.

"I love how you kept your signature hairstyle after all these years…" You murmur, leaning side to side as your eyes continue taking in every detail of him.

"Now it's your turn to explain to me what 'isekai' means," Leon comments, crossing his arms over his chest.

You quickly glance at Leon's bulging biceps before looking back at him innocently. His biceps looked at you first, so it's only fair for you to look at them in return. "Where do I start…" You trail off, tapping on your chin.

So you start explaining to Leon what isekai means, giving him a rundown on it, its origins, and how there's a handful of animated shows (specifically anime) that have this concept. Leon is intrigued, but also confused. The look of confusion on Leon's handsome face is cute. His eyebrows are furrowing, his head tilting to the side while not taking his eyes off of you for one bit.

You subconsciously reach forward and gently press on the space between his eyebrows, smoothing the creases between his brows. Man, even Leon has soft skin for someone who goes through hell. You meet Leon's eyes, causing you to quickly retract your hand before apologizing sheepishly.

"After explaining to me what 'isekai' meant, it makes sense. Is there a way for you to return to your world?" Leon asks.

You frown dramatically. "Aw, you want to return me to sender already? I'm hurt." You joke, clutching your chest playfully. "I thought you would enjoy my company after going through the horrors of having to deal with Victor Gideon caressing you lovingly."

You turn around and face the wall, pretending to be offended by what he asked. Leon shudders at the memory of Victor's fingers brushing through his hair, fingers ghosting over the dark blotches on his neck after lowering the collar of his shirt. That is not a pleasant memory, and he certainly wishes he could erase it.

"Your presence is a breath of fresh air. I'm merely asking because I don't think you would want to stay and deal with what's waiting for us," Leon replies, reaching forward and grabbing your forearm and turning you around to face him.

You can just melt in his arms right now. You've imagined this very moment, but in a different scenario. Leon Kennedy grabs your arm to stop you from leaving, gazing at you with those dazzling blue eyes of his, his eyebrows knitting together as he pleads for you not to leave. And the way he says it? It'll be soft, making you weak at the knees.

"By the way, you never introduced yourself. You know my name, but I don't know yours." Leon adds, pulling you out of your thoughts.

Your eyes widen. "Oh, crap! You're right! How could I forget?" You smack your forehead before introducing yourself to Leon. After telling Leon your first and last name, Leon stares at you while muttering your full name to himself. Heat rushes to your face the longer he does it.

After what feels like forever, Leon smiles and nods. "Your name suits you. I like it. Your parents must've put a lot of thought and love into naming you."

You stare at Leon, mouth agape. Why did he have to say that? Leon raises an eyebrow at you, smiling in amusement. Without saying anything, you cover your face with both hands as heat continues rushing to your face. This man can effortlessly make you blush like a schoolgirl.

You groan behind your hands. "What are you doing to me?! It's not fair. You know you have this effect on me! Damn you, Leon Scott Kennedy!" You whine.

If only you could evaporate right now. Maybe Leon was up to something when he asked if there was a way for you to return to your world, because how much longer can you handle being in the presence of Leon S. Kennedy? The only thing you hear is laughter coming from Leon—his laugh is soft, very gentle. You peek between your fingers to see him shaking his head, a wide smile on his face as he gazes at the wooden floor.

Realization hits you. You're so fucked. There's not a single man in your life—real and fictional—who has made you feel this way before. Until Leon S. Kennedy happened. You love every version of Leon, but there's something about forty-nine-year-old Leon Kennedy. Aside from his looks, there's something that makes you feel so warm and gooey inside when he shows up on your screen.

You look at an imaginary camera, hands falling on your lap before sighing. "I'm so fucked." You whisper, shaking your head in disbelief. "Okay, let's kill some zombies and get the hell out of here."

You push yourself off the ground, feeling around for the so-called goose egg Leon felt on your head, while Leon gets off the ground and brushes the dust off his ass. Leon grabs your wrist, preventing you from finding this goose egg. You look at Leon, frowning.

He wags his pointer finger at you, shaking his head. "Don't search for it."

"Fine." You mumble, lowering your arm, but Leon doesn't let go of your wrist.

You blink at him, looking back and forth from your hands to Leon's face. Leon doesn't say anything and starts looking for an exit with you in tow, his hand still wrapped around your wrist. You will take that as a win because Leon is holding your hand, kind of! You peek at Leon and wiggle your wrist to hold his hand.

You and Leon soon come across the familiar metal cabinet that's blocking the entrance. Your heart nearly sinks into the pit of your stomach when you realize what you're about to face soon. This is strange; you could've sworn that you moved the cabinet before ending the game right there.

"Step back. I don't want you to get hurt." Leon says, gently nudging you to the side, and starts lifting the cabinet.

You press your lips into a thin line and cover your mouth, watching his back muscles and biceps flex under the fabric of his shirt. Leon grunts and starts lifting the metal cabinet. You bite your lower lip, enticed by what you're seeing and hearing.

After a few minutes, Leon successfully moves the cabinet out of the way. He fixes his shirt before pulling out his gun from the holster. Leon turns to you to see you staring at him in a daze, earning an eyebrow raise and smirk from him. You quickly snap out of it, acting like you weren't ogling him just now.

"So, do I follow you into that room or do I wait out here until you finish your, uh, duty?" You ask, rubbing the back of your neck.

You don't know how much has changed since your sudden arrival in this universe, but you're hoping it's not much change, but who knows?

Leon holds his hand out and gestures for you to follow him. "I'm not leaving you behind, are you crazy?"

"For you? Yes." Is your automatic response. You slap your hand over your mouth and squeeze your eyes shut. "I mean, let's go and get this over with!" You say, grabbing his hand and walking through the entrance with Leon in tow.

You're always amazed by your ability to humiliate yourself. This has got to be a new record for you. Once you and Leon step through that door, everything shifts. The atmosphere, the mood, the air, and the sound. You hear squelching coming from the other side of the room.

Think of someone chewing with their mouth open, but multiply that by a thousand. That's how loud it is in person. The squelching is accompanied by deep rumbles. You and Leon trade looks with each other before slowly making your way through the room, making sure Leon picks up ammo for his guns.

Leon stops in his tracks, holding his arm out in front of you before looking over his shoulder at you. "You're going to have to trust me on this, alright?" Leon murmurs.

You look at him, confused. "What are you planning? Should I be worried?" You whisper.

Leon doesn't respond and continues walking towards where the disturbing sound is coming from. You swallow the lump in your throat when you eye the grotesque creature towering over a dead body, feasting on its rotting flesh. The smell is rancid, making your stomach churn.

You grip the back of Leon's shirt, lightly tugging it. "How can you handle a smell like that when you're dealing with these things?" You mutter to him, tempted to bury your face into his back to block out the smell of decomposition and blood.

"When you're constantly out on the field dealing with these things, you'd get used to it."

You raise an eyebrow at his response. "But you recoiled when you caught a whiff of Victor's breath." You point out.

Leon snorts. "Smelling rotting flesh and bad breath are two different things. Besides, who knows how long it's been since he has brushed his teeth?"

"Can't argue with that."

You continue following Leon around the room while he collects ammo for his guns, occasionally peeking from behind him to get a look at the mutated being. For something that large, you're shocked that it hasn't heard you and Leon walking around the vicinity.

"Do you trust me?" Leon asks suddenly, turning towards you.

You falter. "Uh, yes, I do trust you—even though we met not long ago. I'm surprised you trust me despite the things I put you through." You refer to your failed aiming and parrying before you were isekai'd into Resident Evil Requiem.

Leon chuckles, shaking his head. "Of course, I trust you. You're the only one who kept me sane at the start of this shit show." Leon replies.

Leon turns around and aims his gun at the ravenous, mutated creature and shoots it in the head with his shotgun. You flinch at the sound, gripping his shirt hard as you watch the creature stop munching on the corpse and turn towards your and Leon's direction.

Fueled by rage and anger, the chunky zombie roars. "Food! Food! Food!" He growls, getting ready to charge towards you and Leon.

"Hope I'm not next," Leon mutters.

Before you can say anything, Leon quickly turns around, grabs you by the waist, and tosses you over his shoulders before making a run for it. Upside down, you wrap your arms around his waist, whimpering as the monster gets closer to you and Leon. You certainly didn't sign up for this when you got isekai'd, but hey, you didn't sign up to be isekai'd in general!

"Leon! He's getting closer!" You whimper, patting his lower back.

Leon loads his shotgun, making sharp turns to avoid getting grabbed by the ravenous creature. Leon picks up a med injector from a wall that was broken by the monster, along with the shotgun shells and handgun ammo. Leon quickly grabs onto the ladder and climbs up. You nearly flip over if it weren't for Leon's quick reflexes and your iron grip around his waist.

"Are you sure I'm not getting in the way?" You ask, lifting your head to look at Leon. "I feel like I'm adding more weight on you. Metaphorically and literally."

Leon pats the back of your thighs. "You're fine, you're not getting in the way or adding weight on me," Leon reassures you.

Leon quickly puts you down on the platform, fixes his gear, and gestures for you to get on his shoulders by squatting in front of you. You climb over Leon, stomach resting on his shoulders, while your arms are wrapped around his waist. Leon wraps one arm over the back of your thighs, checking to see where the mutated monster is.

On cue, the chunky mutated monster, which you found out is named Timothy from the note Leon read to you, appears at the bottom of the platform. Timothy growls and tries reaching for you and Leon, but Leon shoots him in the face with his shotgun, but Timothy's not phased by it.

Timothy starts climbing up the platform, causing you to involuntarily flinch. "Leon…" You plead, patting Leon's thighs. "We need to move, or else we will be on Timothy's menu!"

Leon tightens his grip on your legs. "Brace yourself."

Before you can process what Leon's doing, you suddenly feel airborne. Your heart is in your throat as you cling to Leon for dear life. Leon lands on the ground with a grunt and shoots Timothy a few more times before making a run for it, loading his shotgun.

The chase lasted five more minutes because Timothy was very motivated to get both you and Leon. Finally, Timothy stops, and blood starts spewing out of the holes and gashes on his body that he received from the shotgun shells and Leon's hatchet.

While Timothy is gushing all over the place, Leon walks to the other end of the room to collect extra items that are lying around before putting you back on the ground once Timothy explodes. You brush off your clothes and turn to Leon, propping your hands on your hips and watching him reload his shotgun before switching to his other handgun.

"You know, when I said that I wanted to be manhandled by you, this isn't what I imagined." You comment.

Leon shakes his head, chuckling. "Don't worry, there will be plenty of time for that. Come on, let's get out of here." Leon gestures for you to follow him as he walks towards the door where the rotting corpse—Timothy's final meal—is lying.

You stare at Leon, mouth agape. What does he mean by that?! Wait, Leon is probably implying other boss fights that are waiting for both you and Leon. You really need to get your head out of the gutter. You follow behind Leon, shuddering when you step in the pool of blood that was once Timothy.

Leon grabs the hand grenade from the puddle of blood and continues walking to the exit. Finally, you and Leon will get to leave this place and face more horrors waiting for both of you. Leon unlatches the door and pushes it open, occasionally looking over his shoulder to make sure you're still following him.

You and Leon come across a wooden closet with a warped door. Leon walks to it, grabs his hatchet, lodges it between the doors, and starts prying them open. You bite your bottom lip, watching his biceps flex as he tries to open it. Once the door bursts open and Leon grabs whatever is inside, you look away, trying to act like you weren't drooling over him.

"Ready to go?" Leon asks, turning to you as he puts the mod on his handgun.

You nod, tucking your hair behind your ear. "Yeah! Are you ready to go?" You ask, looking at him from the corner of your eyes.

"Of course, I am. I'm always ready." Leon says softly, walking past you while gently nudging you to follow him by patting your lower back.

You bite the inside of your cheek, screaming internally. You really need to get yourself together because you're acting like a cat in heat. Leon pushes the red button, and the attic opens; the metal ladder slides down, and Leon starts climbing down.

Once Leon gets off the ladder, you start climbing down, shuddering when you see the amount of blood in the office. The whole time while you're climbing down the ladder, Leon's keeping an eye out while holding out his hands to catch you just in case you slip. You step into the puddle of infected blood, groaning with disgust.

"You'd get used to it," Leon says. "Come on, we need to find Victor Gideon's office."

You follow Leon out of the Chairman's office, on edge about whether zombies are roaming around or not. You don't think there's any zombies roaming around cause you killed most of them when you were playing as Grace. You come across another warped closet outside of the Chairman's office, and you sit back and watch Leon do his thing.

"You're really enjoying this, aren't you?" Leon asks, turning to you after taking the handgun ammo and shotgun shells.

You look at Leon, flabbergasted. "Wha—is a lady not allowed to admire a total eye candy in front of her?" You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. "I have had enough of your teasing! Let's find Victor's office." You stick your nose in the air and walk towards the bar and lounge room.

Leon pinches the bridge of his nose, chuckling. "You truly do make this more entertaining than it should be."

The minute you walk into the bar and lounge room, a zombie in a white button-up starts contorting violently while screaming in agony. You walk backwards frantically, bumping into Leon as the zombie gets off the ground and his head morphs into something more horrifying.

"This place is infested," Leon mutters, shaking his head, and aims his gun at the blister head that's running towards both of you. Leon shoots, and the bullet penetrates the zombie's head, causing it to burst, and blood spews everywhere like a water fountain.

You sigh, turning to Leon. "Can you teach me how to shoot one day? You know, in case I have to fight for both of us."

Leon chuckles, shaking his head. "Of course. I can show you when we come across another zombie."

You and Leon continue searching for Victor's office. Instead of having you walk behind or in front of him, Leon makes sure you're by his side at all times because you'd never know when a zombie will sneak up from behind or jump out of nowhere.

As you're both walking up the stairs to the third floor of the sanatorium, you and Leon hear a faint beeping and gurgling from a zombie. Leon hands you his handgun and gestures for you to follow him quietly. Once the zombie is in your and Leon's line of sight, Leon quickly adjusts the gun in your hand, angling your arms a certain way.

"Make sure to have a firm grasp on the gun so it doesn't recoil and hit you in the face," Leon murmurs, his chest pressing up against your back. "Okay, now, you can either shoot the zombie or the red propane tank. I would go for the explosive canister because it's quicker, and who knows how many shots it'll take to kill the zombie."

Taking Leon's advice, you point the handgun towards the red gas tank and shoot. The red canister in the zombie's hand explodes, taking the zombie out with it. You tilt your head up and see Leon's smile as you lower the gun.

Leon pats your shoulders, "Not bad."

"But not good either." You pout dramatically. "Okay, let's go kick Victor Gideon's ass, Leon!" You grab his wrist and drag him up the stairs to another warped door—much to your delight.

Leon shakes his head as he pulls out his hatchet and starts prying the doors open. Once Leon successfully opens the door, you and Leon enter the room and look around to see many bodies with no heads. You immediately latch yourself against Leon, trembling as Leon picks up the paper on the ground.

"Burst their heads if you want to survive."

On cue, you and Leon hear the familiar screams of agony close to the entrance where you and Leon came. This is not what you expected when you got isekai'd into Resident Evil Requiem. Leon shields you from the blister head and starts shooting the head over and over until the zombie finally dies. He leads to the corner of the room where the other zombie lies and takes the shotgun shells and handgun ammo from the vase.

"Do you trust me?" Leon asks, loading his shotgun and handgun.

You nod. "Of course, I do." You answer.

"Good, cause you're going to need to trust me on this." Leon leans down and tosses you over his shoulders just when another blister head bursts through the door to the meeting room.

You squeeze your eyes shut and cling to Leon's torso as he shoots the blister heads and storms the meeting room, where another blister head is getting ready to charge at Leon. This is going to be a long night, and the worst thing is that you're not even sure if you'll return to your world after all this.

ITOSHI RIN !

oh how sakura was so excited, in your arms, waving with both hands with a smile on her face when her papa jogged towards where you and sakura were.

and then that smile was gone when the cameras flashed flashed flashed.

she rubbed her eyes, hiding her face in your shoulder.

rin being the most overprotective of them all...glared and literally uttered out words that seemed like threats but really were not. he could have used those threats, yes. but there's his babygirl there so he doesn't.

honestly, the camera people don't learn. rin had to reluctantly move to them as with that papa glare™️, "match is over. enough pictures of me are taken, now get lost."

rin then walked back to sakura, taking her in his arms cause she's there and it's mandatory. he turns to you, asking if you're alright.

"im alright. but the 'get lost'... too much no? it will make a headline," you chuckle, knowing rin won't care. that's not his first 'itoshi rin being rude' moment.

ISAGI YOICHI !

after yoichi was done being tackled by his teammates after he scored and won, his eyes fell where you and yuki were.

yuki's smile got so wide after her papa noticed her, that made his heart melt. he zooms over. leaning over to cup yuki's cheeks, "saw me kiddo? see us win?"

"three goal," yuki says, holding up three fingers. he melts!

you chuckle, "you did good there," you smile as he leans over to peck yuki's cheek, then yours.

just then the cameras clicked clicked clicked. yoichi already knew the headlines would include some sappy shit like 'soccer star isagi yoichi celebration with family after winning' or even more cringe shit.

yuki covered her eyes, yoichi turned to the cameras, "guys, please..." nope. the cameras don't listen. to save the day, there's a shark, a bumblebee and a sadist to the rescue as the three avert the cameras away from the happy isagi family.

MICHAEL KAISER !

as the team wins, michael briefly daps the teammates before looking over to where you and anne are. he smirks, wiping his sweat as he steps towards you.

anne wiggles out of your hold to zoom to her papa...and then there's michael's clown friends that try to get anne to them.

anne runs back to you.

michael smugly tells them that the daughter is his. and that flops ain't really appreciate. the teammates still try with all the 'little anne~' and 'princess anne~', anne hides behind your legs.

michael chuckles, "skill issue."

"...you're literally her father."

michael crouches, arms open and just when anne was about to run to her papa, the cameras flashed. anne flinches. you flinch. michael goes dead silent.

the teammates hurry to tell the camera people to back off before they face michael kaiser's wrath. but kaiser gets up and steps forward.

you wanted to interrupt. michael could've grabbed that person's collar and what not. he doesn't. he smirks instead.

sukuna scoffs from where he’s sprawled back in the beach chair, one arm lazily hanging off the side.

“i don’t burn”

“yes you do”

“i literally don’t”

“your nose got pink last time”

his eyes narrow immediately, “it did not.”

“you then complained that it itched and brooded about it the whole time”

“i don’t brood”

you hum ignoring his offense entirely and pat your thighs.

“c’mere”

he stares at you for a long second before clicking his tongue and leaning forward anyway because despite all his dramatics, sukuna has never once denied you when you used that tone on him.

you snort as sukuna settles in front of you. his massive frame blocks the sun completely and he smells like saltwater and heat already despite barely having stepped into the ocean.

you squeeze sunscreen into your palms and rub it across his shoulders.

his muscles flex beneath your hands while you smooth lotion over the dark markings curling along his skin, careful and thorough despite the way he eyes you.

you drag your fingers over his neck and jaw, rubbing sunscreen into the bridge of his nose while he looks deeply inconvenienced by affection.

“look down”

“this is humiliating.”

“look down, so i can get the back of your neck.”

he grumbles under his breath but tilts his chin downward anyway. his previously bored, half lidded eyes, dilate at the sight of your cleavage, right. in. his. face.

how blissful.

yuji bursts into giggles. you had spiked up sukuna’s hair to stand up in a funky way.

“you look funny papa”

sukuna grimaces.

“want me to throw you into the ocean?”

“yeah!”

“…”

you laugh so hard you nearly smear sunscreen into sukuna’s eye.

you take turns, with sukuna now applying sunscreen onto your back.

eventually yuji tears off toward the shoreline with a plastic bucket in hand, sandals abandoned somewhere behind him.

you lean back into your chair with a satisfied sigh while sukuna sits beside you, one arm draped lazily behind your head.

for a while the two of you simply watch.

yuji jumps over tiny waves, yelling triumphantly every single time he successfully crosses one.

he crouches to collect shells with complete seriousness only to abandon them three seconds later because another wave has appeared.

his little laugh carries over the water. your chest feels warm.

“he looks like you when he gets excited,” you murmur, nuzzling against the base of sukuna’s neck.

“poor kid”

you elbow him lightly, “it is cute sukuna, you are cute”

before sukuna can mull over your words, yuji suddenly turns around spotting the two of you immediately.

“papa!! come here!!”

sukuna pretends not to hear,

“papa!!”

you mouth a slight ‘go’ as your husband sighs dramatically before obliging as per usual.

the water reaches just beneath his knees when yuji grabs his hand excitedly and starts dragging him around with all the strength a six year old could possess.

you pad in after them enjoying the waves and the feel of soft sand beneath your bare feet.

you smile to yourself. it is almost absurd seeing sukuna getting ordered around by a child carrying a neon orange shovel.

yuji points toward a lopsided sandcastle near the shore, “help me make it BIGGER” he sticks his arms out to act out how big he wanted it to be.

sitting back down on your chair you try not to look too amused as sukuna crouches down into the sand.

his large hands awkwardly shape wet sand while yuji gives deeply unnecessary instructions beside him.

“more tower”

sukuna looks over at you, pleading for an escape. you wave him off.

“it’s a sandcastle not a fortress” he mutters back.

“more tower” yuji runs about, sometimes gathering sand and sometimes water. most of the time being largely unhelpful.

sukuna clicks his tongue and adds another tower.

hours later the sky begins softening into gold.

yuji’s exhausted enough now to become clingy, dragging his feet through the sand while holding onto sukuna’s hand.

“i need to wash my feet” you brush sand off your legs with a tired groan.

before you can even move, sukuna bends down and scoops you into his arms effortlessly.

you yelp, “kuna—”

he pats you lower thigh,“stop squirming”

people nearby glance over briefly before immediately looking away once sukuna glares in their direction.

you hide your snicker against his shoulder while he carries you toward the rinse station near the boardwalk.

the water runs cool over your feet as he holds you securely against his chest, an arm around your waist like you weigh nothing at all.

yuji stands beside him sleepily rubbing his eyes.

once your feet are clean, sukuna sets you carefully onto the bench.

then without a word, he crouches down.

you blink.

“..what’re you doing?”

he grabs your sandals from beside the bench.

“your feet’ll get dirty again.”

years of loving him and your heart still stutters stupidly.

sukuna slides the sandals onto your feet one by one with mild annoyance etched across his face, but you know better. his love language when it came to you, was acts of service.

meanwhile yuji watches with narrowed eyes, “papa..?”

“what.”

“that’s sooo romantic” he smiles ear to ear.

sukuna immediately flicks water at his forehead.

yuji screeches dramatically while you laugh loud enough that people turn to look again.

“where did he even learn that?” sukuna asks, a mild smile overtaking his usual harsh features.

you shrug, in a dream-like trance, the domesticity of this moment making your heart soar.

and for once, sukuna doesn’t care at all.

firefly; you guys wanted longer fics so hehe i hope this was good

more like this

You just sat there in your oversized, faded blue hospital gown, looking small and fragile as your confused gaze met his. The man froze, roughly brushing a strand of pink hair out of his face. His clothes were covered in a layer of grey dust and dried grit, looking as though he had sprinted straight off a construction site the second he got the news.

"Fucking... God. Hey, princess... fuck, don't you ever scare me like that again" he breathed, his deep, gravelly voice cracking as he took two massive strides toward your bedside, staring down at you with a desperation that made the air feel heavy.

You shrank back into the pillows, your brow furrowing. Princess? Were you in some bizarre historical simulation? Did kings and horses still exist? No, the blinking medical monitors around you disproved that immediately.

"Mr. Sukuna, please. I need to speak with you in private for a moment" a woman in her mid forties interrupted, her expression incredibly grave as she stepped between you and the huge man. She glanced at the other people lingering by the door. There was a teenage boy, maybe sixteen, who had the exact same pink hair as the tattooed man, his face streaked with tears. Beside him stood another boy with unruly, spiky black hair and a dull, stoic expression that couldn't quite hide the anxiety in his eyes. At the doctor's quiet command, they all slowly filed out into the hallway.

Left alone for a moment, you stared at the stark white walls, the untouched glass of water on the bedside table, and the crushing, dull monotony of the room.

When the door clicked open again, the female physician returned, holding a thick medical chart. The tattooed man followed closely behind her. He tried to offer you a small, reassuring smile, but it looked incredibly strained on his rugged face. His crimson eyes locked onto you, tracking every breath you took as if you might literally vanish into thin air if he dared to look away for a single second.

"Hello, y/n. I am Dr. Jennifer" the woman said kindly, stepping up to the mattress. "Do you know why you were brought here today?"

You frowned, looking between her and the towering man. "No."

The syllable was short and hollow. Beside the doctor, Sukuna’s entire frame stiffened. His jaw clenched so hard a muscle feathered violently beneath his tattoos, his knuckles turning white as he balled his hands into fists.

"Right. But you do remember your name?" she pressed gently.

"Yes... y/n I am Y/N." you answered firmly. You knew the name belonged to you, even if the history attached to it was completely gone.

"And do you know where you are right now?"

"A hospital?"

"Correct" Dr. Jennifer nodded, opening the document in her hands. "Look, I am going to explain exactly what happened, and I need you to listen very carefully, alright?" You gave a small, hesitant nod. "You were in a severe accident yesterday evening. You were walking home from the local market when a car veered off the road and hit you. It is a miracle you walked away with minor physical injuries, but the trauma to your head has caused a severe case of retrograde amnesia. Honestly, it's a surprise you even remember your name right now."

You let out a quiet hum, your eyes drifting down to your own hands resting on the thin blanket. That was when you noticed it a slender, platinum band set with a brilliant, flawlessly cut diamond resting securely on your left ring finger. It looked incredibly expensive, classy, and entirely foreign

So you were married.

"Y/n" Dr. Jennifer’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. You snapped your head up to look at her. "This man standing beside me... he is your husband."

The doctor tilted her head toward the giant. He was massive easily over six feet of raw, intimidating muscle, his tattooed face giving him a terrifying, dangerous aura. Your very first instinctual thought was that this man looked incredibly scary.

Sukuna didn't say a word. He just stood there, letting you analyze him, before he offered you a tiny, incredibly vulnerable nod. You tilted your head, staring into his intense red eyes, desperately searching for a single spark of familiarity. Did I really marry this giant?

"His name is Ryomen Sukuna, and he is going to take care of you" the doctor continued, closing her chart. "For the next few weeks, you need to let your brain rest, but you also need to gently stimulate it to try and regain those lost memories. Spending time in a familiar environment, in your own home with your husband, is going to be the best medicine for you."

You nodded mutely. You didn't exactly have a choice. You were being handed over to a complete stranger who happened to hold a legal claim to your entire life.

"Alright then. I wish you a safe and speedy recovery" Dr. Jennifer said with a final, empathetic smile before slipping out of the room.

The heavy silence that followed was suffocating. Sukuna cleared his throat roughly, taking a few slow, tentative steps toward the edge of your bed. He moved with an immense amount of caution, as if he genuinely believed a sudden movement might break you into pieces. He pulled up the small plastic chair, sinking into it.

"Hey" he said softly. Even in a whisper, his voice was incredibly manly, deep, and rough.

"Hello" you replied shortly, your eyes tracking his hands.

To your surprise, his large, scarred fingers were trembling slightly as he fidgeted with them, refusing to meet your eyes. When he finally looked up, you realized the piercing red of his irises was completely glossy, swimming with unshed tears.

"Yo... you're getting discharged today" he choked out, taking a deep, ragged breath as if the mere act of speaking was causing him physical pain. "I'm going to go sign the paperwork, and then I'm taking you to... our house. I'm going to do whatever the fuck it takes to help you remember, princess."

You stared at his rugged, tattooed face for a long moment before letting out a soft, distant hum.

An hour later, you were sitting in the passenger seat of a sleek, black Jeep, The man Sukuna kept his left hand firmly on the steering wheel while his eyes flicked toward you every sixty seconds, his intense gaze making a nervous flutter erupt in your stomach.

You stared out the window, watching the city buildings, sprawling neighborhoods, and vibrant green trees blur past. Intrigued by the warm breeze, you raised your hand, pressing your palm gently against the glass as if you wanted to touch the passing leaves. Instantly, the window smoothly rolled down. Startled, you turned your head to find Sukuna adjusting the master controls, his eyes locked onto you with an unreadable warmth.

"Can I ask you something-" you murmured softly.

"Yes." The answer came incredibly fast, almost desperate. He was hanging on your every word, practically begging for you to speak to him.

"How... how did we meet?" you asked, leaning your elbow on the door frame as the wind whipped through your hair.

"We met in high school" he answered quickly, navigating a sharp turn onto a quiet, "We've been married for seven years."

"High school?" You tilted your head, a faint smile touching your lips as you extended your hand just slightly out into the rushing air. "Were we friends back then?"

"Careful" he commanded firmly, though there was no real heat in his voice. You obediently pulled your hand back inside. A faint, nostalgic softness crept into his red eyes as he looked ahead. "Friends? no. You could say we didn't liked eachother each other when we first met. You thought I was a loud, arrogant mannerless jerk and I thought you were a stubborn, bossy brat."

He smoothly pulled the Jeep into a long brick driveway, coming to a stop in front of a breathtaking, modern two story house. It was painted a crisp, elegant white with sleek charcoal-grey accents, boasting massive, floor to ceiling windows that caught the afternoon sun.

"This is...our house" Sukuna murmured, his voice dropping an octave. "We've been living here for about four years."

He killed the engine, threw his door open, and practically sprinted around the hood of the car to open your door before you could even reach for the handle. He extended a massive, tattooed hand toward you, his palm open and waiting. You stared at his hand, your eyes traveling up the thick muscles of his forearm, before you deliberately stepped down onto the driveway without taking it.

Sukuna’s hand froze in mid-air. You watched his fingers slowly curl back into a fist before he pulled his arm away, a flash of pure, agonizing heartbreak crossing his features before he quickly masked it with a stoic expression.

As your feet hit the pavement, you looked up at the towering structure, desperately begging your brain to spark even a single ounce of familiarity. Nothing came. But as you turned around, you caught a glimpse of the man standing beside you. He was on the absolute verge of tears. His chest was tight, his jaw locked as he stared at you. You were his entire world, his beautiful wife, and yet you were looking at him like he was a total stranger. He suddenly felt a wave of profound hatred for every single time he had ever been mean or stubborn with you in the past, even in jest. He just wanted his girl back. His sweet innocent girl.

"The house is beautiful" you murmured gently, walking toward the porch.

'The house.' Not our house. The detached wording made Sukuna’s jaw clench painfully.

"Of course it is. I built the damn thing" he muttered, following closely behind you.

It was your exact dream house. Years ago, back when you were just broke college students dating in a cramped apartment, you had traced a clumsy design on a napkin, telling him you wanted a modern white house with endless windows, three bedrooms, and a kitchen large enough for the two of you to bake and slow-dance together while listening to old jazz records. Sukuna had kept that napkin. The moment he made his fortune, he hired a crew but did the vast majority of the heavy structural work with his own two hands. He had gifted you the keys on your third wedding anniversary, and he could still vividly remember the way you had wept tears of joy, throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him until you were both breathless. He wanted that smile back. He would give anything just to have you look at him the way you used to.

You stepped inside, ignoring the heavy emotion rolling off him. Sukuna quickly gathered your small hospital bags and followed you into the foyer, shutting the door behind him.

Your eyes immediately gravitated toward the kitchen. It was vast, open, and undeniably stunning, featuring a massive quartz island and a huge sliding glass door that opened directly into a manicured backyard garden. The entire layout felt strangely perfect.

"Let me show you... around" Sukuna offered quietly.

He spent the next half hour guiding you through the corridors of what was supposed to be your life. But as he showed you the grand master bedroompointing out the side of the bed where you used to curl into his chest every single night your face remained entirely blank. You felt a twinge of heavy guilt pooling in your stomach. He showed you the living room, drawing your attention to a collection of large, breathtaking canvas paintings hanging on the walls.

"You painted those" Sukuna noted, a faint trace of pride in his rough voice. "You're a brilliant artist, princess."

You blinked in genuine surprise, looking down at your hands. "I drew these?" You were suprised, you don't even remember touching a brush in your life. But this is your new life. New start.

"Yeah." Sukuna stopped at the edge of the hallway, looking down at you with completely bloodshot eyes. He hadn't slept a single second since the hospital called him about your accident. All he wanted to do was wrap his massive arms around your waist, pull you flush against his chest, and bury his face in your hair until the nightmare ended. But he couldn't. "Look... you can sleep in the guest bedroom down the hall, or you can take our bedroom and I'll stay in the guest room. Whatever makes you feel comfortable. I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable you."

"Okay" you hummed softly.

His heart broke a little more at the compliant, distant tone. "I'll go start on some dinner, and then I'll get your medication ready. If you need a single damn thing, you just call out for me, alright? Your clothes are all in the dresser, undergarments in the top drawer, pajamas in the second..."

You nodded, offering him a polite murmur of thanks before retreating into the guest room. You changed into a simple, comfortable t-shirt and sweats. A little while later, his deep voice echoed up the stairs, announcing that dinner was ready. You walked down to the dining room, sitting at the large table like a polite houseguest waiting to be served.

"Do you need help?" Sukuna asked, carefully sliding a steaming bowl of homemade chicken soup and a large spoon toward you. You shook your head, grasping the utensil and taking a quiet sip. He sat across from you, his own bowl entirely untouched as he just stared at your face. "Y/n... you really don't remember a single damn thing about me?"

His voice cracked completely on the last word, the raw vulnerability of a ruthless man exposed right in front of you. You looked up, meeting his glossy red eyes.

"No... I don't. I'm really sorry" you whispered genuinely.

He let out a slow nod, swallowing the lump in his throat as he forced himself to look away. "Don't apologize. It's not your fault."

"Do I... do I have parents? Or friends?" you asked, a sudden curiosity about your own forgotten life bubbling up.

"Yeah. You have parents. Your father—"

"Where are they?" you interrupted quickly, leaning forward. "Do they know I was in an accident? Why aren't they here?"

"They haven't spoken to you in over seven years. Not since the day you married me" Sukuna said, his tone dropping into something cold and bitter.

"Why?"

"Your family is rich as fuck. Extremely strict, arrogant aristocrats" Sukuna explained, his red eyes locking back onto yours. "They completely forbade you from seeing me because I was just a rough, tattooed bastard from the wrong side of the tracks with a criminal record and a unstable future. They told you that if you walked out that door with me, you’d be cut off permanently."

You stared at him, a sudden spark of heat flaring in your chest. "Well, that's so stupid of them. It sounds like a good thing we don't talk to them then."

The sheer, unyielding loyalty in your voice made Sukuna’s lips twitch, a genuine, heartbreaking smile threatening to break through his stoic mask. Even with a wiped memory, his sweet wife still possessed that exact same fiery, protective spirit.

"Yeah" he chuckled hoarsely, letting out a long sigh. "You have an incredible best friend named Shoko. You two are both doctors. you work in the exact same surgical unit at the city hospital. We have a ton of mutual friends we met back in our high school days. And those kids at the hospital? The pink-haired teenager is my nephew, Yuji, and the dark-haired one is Megumi, our friend's kid. They practically worship the ground you walk on, princess. You love those brats to death."

"Can I see them?" you asked, a genuine smile finally breaking across your face.

"Of course. Whenever you want." he promised, his eyes tracking the way your lips curved.

"How old are you, anyway?"

"I'm thirty two. You're thirty" Sukuna answered smoothly.

"Wow. So we're getting old," you teased gently.

Sukuna let out a sudden, rough snort, a wicked glint flashing in his eyes. "Old or not, woman... you're still completely breathtaking."

A deep, violent blush instantly stained your cheeks. You hadn't been around an attractive man or any man, for that matter in your conscious memory, and having this giant, dangerously handsome individual throw such a raw compliment at you made your heart do a chaotic somersault. You quickly looked down at your soup, missing the way his eyes softened at your reaction.

Over the next three weeks, the fragments of a life began to surround you, even if the puzzle pieces wouldn't quite lock into place.

Yuji and Megumi came over to the house constantly. Yuji spent hours enthusiastically teaching you how to make his signature protein shakes and weird jello molds, his loud laughter filling the quiet house, while Megumi sat nearby with his usual serious expression. But the moment you offered Megumi a soft, encouraging smile, his sharp features would instantly melt into something deeply tender. Yet, beneath their smiles, you could see the underlying sadness in their eyes every time you failed to remember a shared inside joke.

When Shoko finally visited, she broke down completely, throwing her arms around your neck and sobbing into your shoulder. It was a bizarre maybe stupid too, overwhelming feeling being fiercely loved by people you couldn't even remember and a heavy weight of guilt began to settle deep in your chest. You even met Toji, Megumi's father, a tall, stoic man who didn't say much but looked at you with a quiet, profound pity that made you realize just how broken your situation truly was.

And then, there was Sukuna.

Your husband spent every single day patiently guiding you through your routines, driving you past your old university, cooking your favorite meals, and trying every gentle trigger possible. But your mind remained a stubborn, locked vault. Sukuna was growing desperate furious and completely fucked up by the stagnation.

To make matters worse, just one week before the accident, you had playfully taken down every single one of your framed marriage photographs to rearrange the living room gallery wall, hiding them away in a "genius spot" that Sukuna had completely forgotten more like you didn't even told him. He had spent hours frantically tearing the house apart while you were out, searching for a single modern photo of the two of you together.

He was completely unraveling. He couldn't sleep. The woman he loved was sleeping in the room next to him, yet she looked at him with the polite, distant eyes of a stranger. He felt like a ghost haunting his own home. One evening, he sat alone in the dark kitchen and wept the third time he had ever cried in his entire life. The first had been tears of pure joy on your wedding day when he saw you walking the aisle. the second had been out of terror when the ER doctor told him a car had struck you. and now, he was crying simply because he missed his wife so damn much

His phone offered no help either. his gallery was filled entirely with candid photos he had taken of you you stepping out of the shower with a towel wrapped around your head, you laughing in a department store dressing room, or a hilarious picture of you biting into a raw lemon and making a completely disgusted face. He had no photos of the two of you together on his device, you had always been the one insisted on keeping the physical, printed albums. The only joint photos he could find were a few faded, wrinkled prints from your high school days, showing a younger, wilder version of himself wrapping his arms around you from behind while you laughed into the camera. When he showed them to you, you just stared at them blankly. It was killing him.

At the end of the third week, Sukuna was sitting heavily on the living room sofa, completely exhausted after another failed search through the house. He was mindlessly scrolling through the candid photos of you on his phone, a faint, melancholy smile touching his lips. His fingers traced your face on the photo, your bright smile. your bubbly laughter at his most unfunniset jokes, now all of that are vanished.

The heavy front door clicked open. Shoko had taken you out for an afternoon of shopping to get you out of the house, and she had just dropped you off at the curb. You stepped into the foyer, balancing several shopping bags in your arms.

Sukuna instantly locked his phone, shoving it into his pocket as he stood up, his red eyes drinking in the sight of you. "Had fun, princess?"

"Yes, I did. And thank you... for letting me use your credit card" you said softly, walking over to the coffee table and gently sliding the black card back toward him.

"You bought dresses?" he asked, pointing toward the bags. Honestly, he didn't give a single fuck about the money. you could have emptied his entire bank account and he would have gladly signed it away just to see you happy.

"I bought a few things..." You cleared your throat nervously, your fingers twisting together. "But... I actually bought something for you, too."

The words hit his chest like a physical blow. Even with her mind completely wiped, your beautiful, kind soul was still looking out for him. "Really?" he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "Can I see it?"

You gave a small nod, walking over to the couch and tentatively sitting down right next to him. The close proximity made his heart start to hammer against his ribs like a trapped bird.

"I don't know if it's really your style, or if you'll even like it..." you mumbled bashfully, reaching into a small velvet pouch and pulling out a heavy, intricately braided silver bracelet studded with raw, brilliant red stones. "The color... it just immediately reminded me of you. Of your eyes."

You gently reached out, grasping his massive, calloused wrist to drape the metal over his skin. Oh God, if you only knew how fast his heart was racing beneath his chest. Your soft, warm fingers lingering against his pulse point was pure, exquisite torture.

"It looks incredible, Y/n. Thank you." he whispered, a genuine, breathtakingly soft smile spreading across his tattooed face as he looked down at the crimson stones.

"Thank you... for being so incredibly patient with me" you said quietly, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

Sukuna let out a long, ragged sigh, his hand hovering over yours for a fraction of a second before he pulled back. "I will always be patient with you, princess. Always."

You looked directly into his burning red eyes, and for the first time in three weeks, a warm, genuine smile broke across your face. Sukuna felt his breath hitch. he was entirely certain he was about to pass out from the sheer weight of his love for you.

"Can you stay right here for a bit? I need to go jump in the shower real quick. I'll be fast" he muttered hoarsely, his hand instinctively reaching out to gently ruffle your hair a comforting, domestic habit he had carefully maintained. You let out a soft chuckle at the gesture.

The moment his heavy footsteps disappeared up the stairs and the sound of running water echoed through the pipes, you stood up, wandering aimlessly around the quiet main floor. Your feet pulled you toward the small, cozy library nestled just off the living room. The walls were lined with hundreds of books some ancient leather volumes, others modern art textbooks. You pulled one off the shelf, flipping through the pages before sliding it back into place.

As you stepped back, your eyes caught a glimpse of something hidden on the absolute highest shelf, shoved far back into the shadows near the ceiling. It looked like a massive, heavy frame leaning flat against the back wall, obscured by a decorative ceramic vase. Intrigued, you stood on your tiptoes, stretching your arms up as high as they could go, blindly reaching for the top edge of the wooden frame.

Your fingers caught the molding, but as you pulled, the heavy ceramic vase shifted, losing its balance.

Crash!

The vase shattered against the hardwood floor with a deafening, echoing smash. Startled, you let out a sharp cry, stumbling backward as the massive hidden frame came tumbling down from the top shelf, striking the edge of the desk before landing flat on the rug. The backing of the frame split completely open upon impact, and a massive cascade of loose, glossy photographs erupted across the floor hundreds of them, scattering like playing cards across the room.

You gasped, placing a hand over your racing heart as you looked away from the broken pottery, your eyes drifting down to the sea of images covering the floor.

You froze.

Right at your feet lay a massive, professionally printed portrait. In the photograph, you were sitting securely on Sukuna's lap. You were wearing a breathtaking, flowing white lace wedding dress, holding a vibrant bouquet of sunflowers, and laughing so brightly your eyes were crinkled shut. Sukuna was clad in a sharp, tailored black tuxedo, his massive arms wrapped fiercely around your waist from behind, an absolutely massive, unbothered, triumphant grin plastered across his face.

Your breath hitched violently. You stumbled forward, falling to your knees as your hands frantically snatched up another photo from the pile. In this one, you were hoisted high up on Sukuna's broad shoulders at a crowded, flashing outdoor music festival; your mouth was wide open in a breathless scream of laughter, while his large hands were clamped firmly around your thighs to keep you safe, both of your faces painted with pure, unadulterated euphoria.

You grabbed a third photo, and the entire world stopped spinning. It was a quiet, intimate shot taken right in the backyard garden outside. You were sitting cross-legged on the green grass, wearing a simple summer dress with a soft, shy smile, while Sukuna’s heavy head was resting completely in your lap. He was looking up at you with an expression of such pure, unconditional adoration it made your soul ache, while your fingers were woven gently through his soft pink hair.

Pink hair.

The backyard.

The jazz music.

The napkin.

A sudden, violent explosion of memories ripped through the barriers of your mind. It wasn't a trickle; it was a catastrophic, roaring tidal wave. Seven years of laughter, fierce arguments, passionate late-night apologies, the smell of his skin, the exact weight of his body pressing you into the master mattress, the sound of his deep voice whispering "I've got you, princess" into the dark. It all hit your brain at once with the force of a freight train.

The sheer, overwhelming velocity of the memories made the room spin violently. Your vision blurred into a vortex of white light and crimson eyes. You let out a choked gasp, your strength entirely giving out as your body collapsed sideways onto the hardwood floor with a loud, heavy thud, the scattered photographs of your life pooling around your unconscious form.

When you finally opened your eyes again, the harsh glare of the ceiling lights was gone, replaced by the warm, dim ambiance of the living room. You were laying flat on the soft fabric of the sofa.

"She's waking up! Sukuna, look, her eyes are moving!" Yuji’s panicked, loud voice cut through the quiet room.

You blinked heavily, your vision slowly focusing. Megumi was standing right beside his cousin, his dark eyes wide and completely swimming with anxiety. Shoko was hovering over you, a small medical flashlight in her hand, her face pale as she checked your vitals.

But your heart didn't care about any of them. Your eyes frantically scanned the tight circle of people, instantly landing on the massive, tattooed man standing frozen at the foot of the couch. His pastel pink hair was damp from the shower, his chest heaving under a plain black t-shirt, and his face was a mask of pure, absolute terror.

As your eyes met his, a single, heavy tear spilled over your eyelid, tracing a hot path down your cheek. The vast, terrifying void in your mind was completely gone, replaced by the roaring, beautiful fire of your reality.

"Ryo..." you choked out, your voice a broken, breathless sob.

Sukuna froze, his entire frame visibly violently shuddering at the sound of the nickname the private, intimate name only you were ever allowed to call him.

Before anyone else could even blink, you threw yourself forward off the sofa cushions, completely ignoring the dull ache in your muscles. You lunged straight into his space, your arms wrapping fiercely around his massive neck. You buried your face in the crook of his collarbone, gripping the fabric of his shirt with a desperate, white-knuckled intensity as you pressed a hard, crying kiss directly against his tattooed jaw.

"I remember... us" you sobbed violently into his skin, your entire body trembling as the tears flowed freely. "I remember everything, Ryo... I remember you."

Sukuna’s mind completely blanked. For a single, breathless second, he couldn't even process the words. And then, a raw, ragged sound escaped his throat a mixture of a sob and a laugh. His massive, powerful arms came crashing down around your frame, pulling you so close against his chest you could barely breathe, lifting your knees entirely off the floor as he buried his face into the crook of your neck.

And there, in the middle of his living room, surrounded by his family and the scattered photographs of your love, Ryomen Sukuna closed his eyes and wept for the fourth time in his life.

"I fucking love you" he whispers

user12345: DID ITOSHI SAE & HIS LONG-TERM GIRLFRIEND BREAK UP????

itoshino1fan: OMG SAE & Y/N NO LONGER FOLLOW EACH OTHER

saeglazer101: OOOPP TROUBLE IN PARADISE??! 👀 HERE’S MY CHANCEE 😜

gossip & tea pages were already running with the narrative. fan accounts started reposting each other. tiktok edits of your “failed relationship” started flooding everyone’s feed.

and unfortunately for you, the news had travelled all the way to spain.

sae had just finished his morning run when his phone started exploding with notifications from multiple people & journalists. even shidou who he has not spoken to in weeks somehow sent him a screenshot of the news with the caption:

💬: so she finally dumped you? 💀

for a few seconds, he simply stood there with his phone in hand trying to figure out how the internet had somehow came to the conclusion that he’d been dumped. the last thing you’d sent him before he went out for his run was a picture of the lunch you made, so there was absolutely no way you’d broken up with him in the short span of three hours (and without his knowledge too).

still, when he opened instagram & saw that you really weren’t following him anymore… something in his chest dropped.

immediately, he tapped on your contact & started calling you.

the ringing echoed through the speaker until the call eventually ended on its own. no answer. his jaw tightened as he tried again.

beep

the line disconnected, so he tried again.

beep

and again.

beep

by the time the tenth call went unanswered, his text messages had already started flooding your chat.

sae ♡: answer your phone

sae ♡: ???

sae ♡: y/n

sae ♡: i’m serious

sae ♡: we need to talk

sae ♡: hello?

back in japan, however, you were peacefully asleep; completely unaware that half the internet had assumed you’ve broken up with your famous mid-fielder boyfriend, or that said boyfriend was currently having the worst few hours of his life.

—

three hours later when you finally woke up and reached for your phone, your lockscreen lit up with 30 notifications from sae.

20 unanswered texts.

10 missed calls

and approximately 100 notifications from all your social media combined of posts that you were tagged in from strangers on the internet mourning a breakup that never actually happened.

“… what the hell?” you muttered in complete disbelief as you sat upright in bed.

you immediately started calling sae back, and he answered within the first ring. “amor...” the relief in his voice hit you so fast that you nearly forgot why you’d called in the first place.

“sae?” you blinked. “what happened?”

there was a brief pause before he let out a slow exhale. “you unfollowed me.”

“… what?”

“you unfollowed me.”

“no? i was literally asleep.”

“check my profile.”

you stared at your screen before immediately going to his profile. and there it was… that mocking ‘follow back’ button staring back at you, clearly showing that you did in fact unfollow him.

“oh shit…”

“exactly what i said,” he replied flatly.

“i-i’ll fix it, okay? i’ll put up a statement on my story. hold on,” you said quickly.

immediately, you tapped onto your story and typed out a short statement— hoping it would stop the rumors before they spiraled any further.

after posting it, you let out a relieved sigh. you knew people were parasocial when it came to professional soccer players, but you certainly didn’t expect thousands of people to reach the conclusion that you’d broken up over one misplaced tap of your thumb.

“… there.” you murmured, staring at the freshly uploaded story. “crisis averted.”

“mhm.”

his response was immediate, but something about the way he said it made you anxious.

you frowned.

“a-are you still mad?” you asked, fiddling with the corner of your pillowcase.

there was a brief silence on the other end of the line. “i’m not mad.”

“sae.”

“… what?”

“that doesn’t sound very convincing.”

another pause.

then you heard him exhale quietly. “i said i’m not mad, amor.”

“… promise?”

this time, the sigh that left him sounded almost resigned. “yes amor,” he replied, the edge in his voice finally softening.

“i promise.”

only then did some of the tension leave your shoulders. you sank back against your pillows, finally relaxing. “… okay,” you murmured. “that’s good to know.”

somehow the call grew quiet again, but this time it felt comfortable rather than tense. neither of you seemed particularly eager to hang up.

“… i-i miss you, sae.” you finally broke the silence.

for a second, all you could hear was the faint sound of movement from his side of the call before he spoke again, his voice noticeably softer this time. “i miss you too, amor.”

the two of you stayed on the phone for another hour before his schedule eventually caught up with him. he listened to you ramble about your day while simultaneously packing his training bag, occasionally responding with a quiet hum to let you know he was still listening. eventually, you ended up curled beneath your blankets with the call still connected, smiling whenever his voice drifted through the speaker.

. . .

the distance between spain and japan still felt unfair.

but somehow, it was hard to dwell on the miles between you when he still felt so present in your everyday life.

⨳ 𝓷𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: finally a bllk post. not proofread

Your smile widened as you leaned over him, your gaze lingering on his sleeping face for a moment longer.

Then, overcome by a sudden wave of what could only be described as cute aggression, you pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, letting your lips linger there briefly before pulling away.

A fond smile tugged at your lips, and you leaned in again, pressing another gentle kiss against the side of his temple.

He doesnt move.

So you kissed his cheek, and a giggle bubble up your chest. Then slowly you pressed your lips on his nose.

"God, Leon you're so pretty."

Then his jaw.

"My husband." You smiled and murmured against his skin.

Though still nothing, so you pulled back a bit, Leon wasnt making any noises except few snore that sounded way too fake.

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously at him, because he was way too still and there was absolutely no way Leon Kennedy slept this deeply.

Determined now, you gently brushed your fingers through his hair before trailing them down his arm, slowly tracing the muscles beneath his shirt.

Goosebumps rose over his body as his breathe deepens but he doesnt wake.

"Uh-oh you are gonna play this game, hm?" you whispered and poked his cheek.

He was still-still.

Then you cradled his face before squishing it slightly. Your eyes narrowed further at him and you playfully hum, “Guess I could bite him now.”

Finally, the corner of his mouth twitched upward, the skin around his eyes crinkling slightly even though he still refused to open them.

The moment you caught it, you immediately sat upright, a betrayed smile spreading across your face. "You're awake." you accused and in same breath you gasped dramatically. "You are a terrible actor!"

But still he plays pretend and lies still, then slowly sighing you lean closer to him, "Leon."

The next thing you knew, a strong arm slipped around your waist. You barely had time to let out a startled squeak before the world tilted beneath you.

In one smooth motion, Leon pulled you down onto him, and suddenly you found yourself sprawled across his chest. "Leon!" you yelped, gripping his shoulders as his laughter rumbled beneath you.

"You were saying?" He chuckles deeply, his words vibrating in your chest.

"You were pretending to sleep!"

"You kissed me like twelve times." Leon grins.

"You counted?"

"I counted every single one."

Your face immediately warmed, as heat spreads across your chest and the traitor only looked pleased with himself.

And you notice his one arm remained securely around your waist while the other settled behind his head. His eyes were still heavy with sleep, yet amusement danced inside them.

"You look very proud of yourself," you giggled, rubbing your chin lightly against his chest as you settled more comfortably on top of him. The motion only seemed to make his smug expression grow wider.

"I am." He mumbled.

"For what?"

"Catching you." Leon teased as he rubbed his chin across your hairs, making you giggle again.

Then as you gaze up at him, his smile softened a moment later, and his eyes slothfully locked on yours, like he was seeing something worth millions.

Your heartbeat stumbled at his softened reaction. "What?"

For a moment he simply looked at you. Then his hand came up, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

His expression turned unexpectedly gentle and he whispers with a smile, "When I look in your eyes," he paused then takes a big deep breath before continuing, "I see the entire galaxy reflecting back at me."

Your breath get caught in your lungs again, "Wow."

The smug smile returned instantly on his face. "Wow?"

"You are so cheesy first thing in the morning," you teased, though your heart was already betraying you, drumming frantically against your chest as warmth spread across your face.

"I was being romantic," he pouted, his lips jutting out ever so slightly as he looked at you with exaggerated offense.

You mumbled against his chest. "Fine, fine... it made my heart stutter."

Leon chuckled softly at that before pressing a kiss against your temple.

Then he rested his chin lightly atop your head as you settled more comfortably against his chest. Your own chin found its place on his shoulder while his arms remained securely around you.

You stayed like that, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat echoing beneath your ear.

After a while, you glanced up at him and found his eyes closed, a peaceful expression settling across his features.

A small smile tugged at your lips at the sight. For all his toughness, Leon was an absolute softie when it came to you, and moments like these reminded you of that more than anything else.

For a while you just stayed there tangled in each other as morning sunlight continued to spill across the room.

While the blankets tangled between your legs.

You felt so comfortable lying on top of him that it genuinely felt as though you were resting on a cloud.

As the two of you gradually relaxed into the quiet of the morning, you tilted your head upward, your chin brushing lightly against his chest. "When did you wake up?" you asked, letting out a soft sigh against his skin as you looked up at him.

Leon didn't even open his eyes this time, instead he hummed and replied, "When you were staring at me."

You laughed shaking your head and lifted your head to look at him. "You were awake at that point?" you asked, disbelief and amusement slipping into your voice.

"You know when you stirred I though you were going to be awake and I can't sleep when you're not near me. Can't help it, baby," he said, his eyes softening as he looked at you.

A quiet sigh escaped you at his words, and you melted further against his chest, feeling strangely safe there, almost as if you were being held by an angel, instead of Leon.

The sound you made earned another kiss against your temple. Then Leon pulled you even closer against his chest, his arms tightening around you as though he had no intention of letting go anytime soon.

Absentmindedly, your fingers found his biceps, tracing lazy circles over them while you settled comfortably against him.

Neither of you made any effort to leave the warmth of the bed, content to remain tangled together in the quiet comfort of the morning. Because after all, some mornings were simply too good to rush.

“My Lord! The Firelady has arrived!” yelled a guard as he burst through the doors of the throne room, interrupting the chaos that crowded it.

Zuko’s ears caught y/n’s voice before he could form a reply. “I can walk by myself, you know!” she squirmed, freeing herself from the grip of the guards attempting to help her as if she’d been injured. “Apologies, my lady,” the two guards spoke simultaneously, withdrawing their grasp around her and stepping away. 

Y/n was dressed in a dark black robe, a hood hanging behind her and a sword strapped to her waist. Her dishevelled hair also complemented her enigmatic allure, a stark contrast to the royal elegance that normally adorned her. Her face lifted, finding him standing in the middle of the room, surrounded by many uneasy council members, maids and guards. It was obvious that what they feared at that moment was the wrath of the Firelord rather than her demise, as the latter was unlikely. 

A few seconds of tense eye contact passed between the Lord and the Lady, as if they both were scrutinising the other. He was the first to break. 

“Everyone dismissed. I’d like some privacy with my wife,” the loud, commanding voice of the Firelord echoed through the room, swiftly emptying it. 

It was almost as if the gravitas that just graced him left, too. One would certainly agree, having witnessed how hastily he moved to her, his hands reaching to cling to her shoulders, eyes scanning her for any injuries. “What on earth were you thinking? Do you have any idea how worried I was? You were gone the entire day!” the once authoritative voice now unsteady.

“Zuko, I’m fine—”

“The palace physician. We’re going to see the palace physician.”

Almost instinctively, she wanted to disagree, but having finally seen the weariness painted across his face, from his sunken eyes to the slight quiver of his lips, she could only sigh and agree. “Fine, but I’m okay, really. There’s not a scratch on me.”

“The physician will be the judge of that,” he replied tautly. Not a second later, his hand was already gently holding her arm, guiding her to their shared chambers.

She wanted to protest his grip on her; she could walk on her own after all. However, she had once again melted at the sight of the unease that seized him; she realised a few steps in that his actions were more to reassure himself than her.

An hour had passed with the physician in their chambers. Mostly because Zuko would demand one check-up after another, claiming that the physician might have missed something.

“My lord, I assure you that her Ladyship is perfectly alright. There is not a scratch on her—”

“Once more,” he demanded.

She sighed and tugged at the edge of Zuko’s sleeve. “Zu, I promise I’m fine. Another check-up, after the many you’ve already ordered, won’t change that,” her tone was calm as if she was trying to soothe his nerves.

A sigh left him. “Thank you for your help. You may leave us.”

The physician bowed, wasting no time in leaving.

A moment of silence passed, the elephant in the room waiting to be acknowledged.

“What on earth were you thinking?” he repeated from earlier. His gaze at her was now sharp, though the shaky tone of his yell showed the opposite. 

“Zuko I—”

“You weren’t hurt, but you definitely could have been! Why on earth had you not said anything? And how on earth did you manage to evade all the guards I sent after you—”

“Let me speak, will you!” y/n’s shout broke through the resonance of his voice.

Zuko’s eyes widened, but he complied. A bite settled on his bottom lip as if to restrain himself.

She now sat up straight on the bed she’d been lying on, her eyes never leaving him. “I’d received intel from my shadow knights about a group trying to infiltrate a carriage of goods heading through one of the trade routes headed here. It was an attempt by banished Ozai loyalists to map out routes to the palace, and from what I’ve been told, the rest of the Fire Nation. I’m assuming they're aware of the significant infrastructure development that's taken place since you came into power. It was all in the note I left, remember—”

He rolled his eyes, followed by a groan, “Y/n, a note isn’t nearly enough—” 

“Shut up and let me finish,” she interrupted. “As I said in my note, I wouldn’t have left in a rush had this not been a matter of urgency. The infiltrators were already en route to interfering with the passage of the goods. I wouldn’t have left alone either had I thought this wasn’t a matter I could handle. There were only about three of them. I couldn’t let them get close to accomplishing what they wanted, especially—” she hesitated. “Especially knowing that their final goal is to hurt you.”

“You still should have told me, y/n. I would have sent members of the royal guard to handle it. You could have gotten hurt—”

The fury had now gotten to her. She had stood up from their bed, her steps slow as she cornered him. This was her way of forcing him to acknowledge every word she spoke properly.

“Hurt by three out-of-shape men? I told you I wouldn’t have gone had I not known I could handle it. My shadow knights already reported on who was heading our way. I’m one of the best firebenders there is. I’m a skilled fighter too. You know this. You were fine with me going on my own ventures before—”

“That was different,” he muttered, avoiding her gaze as his back hit the wall.

“Different how? You’ve been treating me like a child ever since Republic City! I fought three men and pushed the Ozai loyalists off our track. What can I do to make you stop doubting me, Zuko? I’m suffocating here!” she pleaded desperately as her hands tugged at the lapels of his robes.

His lips pursed as his mind drifted back. Republic City. The fight with Taga. The love of his life, his everything, unconscious for days he’d lost count of. He inhaled a sharp breath, letting go of it instantly in an attempt to steady himself. 

Her eyes widened at the worsened shift of his demeanour; she was confused to say the least. Had she hurt him? “I’m sorry I—” her concerned voice was interrupted by a loud ring. It seems the Grandfather Clock in the room decided that midnight was far too late for the lovers’ quarrel. 

Zuko huffed, momentarily shutting his eyes and knitting his brows to relieve the tension in his forehead before facing her with open eyes again. “Get some sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”

Her hands clenched his robe again, “But Zu—”

He shushed her gently. “It’s okay. I just need some time to think, and you could use the rest after the adventure you had today. I’ll ask the maids to draw you a bath.”

She faltered, but soon sighed in defeat, loosening her grip on him and taking a step back. “Morning then.”

He lowered himself and placed a kiss on her forehead. “Love you,” he whispered.

She held his jaw, momentarily restraining him from standing up straight again. A soft kiss on his cheek followed. “I love you too,” she whispered back. 

Zuko retired to his study. He could have headed to his chambers, of course, but a smart man like him knew he would not get a wink of sleep.

Y/n was no different. She’d thought through her bath, thought as she’d changed into sleepwear, thought when she should’ve been asleep and thought again as the yellow rays of the sun seeped through her window.

As the hues of sunrise disappeared, she got out of bed and began getting ready for the day. Having dismissed her ladies-in-waiting, as she usually did, since she preferred doing her morning routine alone, she had more time to compose herself.

Breakfast arrived, and the two decided to eat in the private dining room of their quarters. 

“Sleep well?” she asked as she picked at her food, too tired to eat.

“Yeah,” the ends of his palms rubbed at his eyes. “And you?”

“Same,” she spoke as she stifled a yawn.

A stretch of quietness held the room for a while. Not the awkward kind, or the relaxing kind, but the kind that usually precedes a climactic event.

“I don’t doubt you at all. Far from it,” he broke the stillness.

For a moment, she hadn’t fully absorbed what he’d said, still stuck in an exhausted haze. Though her eyes soon widened as her ears caught on the weight of his words.  “What?” The question left her, barely a whisper. 

“Back then, after you got hurt at Republic City— I thought I’d lost you. It’s hard for me to even think about it. The way you looked, the fear in Katara’s eyes as she rushed to heal you, the unusual silence and loneliness in the palace walls— it made me think that I’d never be able to wake up next to you every morning again, or listen to your words as you talked for hours, or hear your laugh, or share a meal, or do every other thing I enjoy doing with you ever again. It scared me so much that I couldn’t eat, sleep, or even move. None of it mattered if I didn’t get to breathe alongside you ever again.”

Her lips pursed as she struggled to come up with a response. 

He continued, “I’m sorry for making you feel like I doubted you or that you weren’t enough. You’re so talented, my love. I admire and learn so much from you, whether it’s your firebending, your fighting or your intellect. I was afraid of losing that back then, and yesterday, I feared losing it again.”

She sighed, taking the opportunity to collect herself after being overwhelmed by the information she’d just learned. And then began, “I ran off to prove to you that I could handle it. I didn’t even think of how bad what had happened back then would have been for you. I genuinely believed that you thought little of me because I got injured. I’m sorry. I should’ve told you where I was going because I’d want you to have told me. I just didn’t want you to stop me—”

“I probably would have,” he paused. “But it’s not my place. Caging you has hurt you more than freedom could ever have. I know that now. I’m sorry, I really am. And I could never think little of you— I’m not that stupid. It’s not your fault you got hurt.” his hand wrapped around hers.

A small laugh left her mouth at his comment before she began talking again. “It’s okay to be protective. Heck, the whole reason I left was that I feared for your safety. But respecting one’s space is always important. We live, and we learn. We’ll be more transparent about our feelings and actions from now on,” she kissed the back of his hand.

He nodded, a little flustered at her kiss. 

A moment of peace governed the two, a stark contrast to the tense atmosphere that had inhabited them the previous night.

“So you really took down all three of them? Not that I am shocked.”

“Oh, you should’ve seen how marvellous it was. No one gets close to hurting my Zuzu,” she kissed his cheek.

“Shut up,” he rolled his eyes in an attempt to counter the flush of his face. 

“We should go together next time. Not that I'm hoping there is a next time.”

“It’s a date,” he amusedly replied.

".. right.." kento paused, and you looked up to see if he had any reaction at all to this. maybe it was imperceptible to anyone other than his wife, but his cheeks were slightly tinged pink with embarrassment, and he was almost.. avoiding direct eye contact.

"yes, it is you." he picked up his license from the floor, then held out his hand to take the wallet back. you held it back a little, to your chest to tease him a little bit more about this.

"it's me! you have a photo of me, half naked inside your wallet! where anyone could see..?" you question, the brightest smile on your face. oh, this has improved the day infinitely.

kento clears this throat, "no one would see it. why would i want anyone to see it? you're my wife, it's not a.. page ripped from a magazine." he tries to excuse himself, lowering his voice slightly as he puts his hand back to his side in defeat.

"but what if you got pulled over by the cops while driving? you show him your license, and then oh, there's a naked woman in your wallet as well?" you suggest.

ken pauses again, looking back at you as he smirks. "i'm sure it would work out favourably in the terms of avoiding a ticket."

you slap the wallet back onto his chest, "dirty, dirty. i am so shocked. why is it in your wallet? and not a heart shaped locket?" he grunts slightly, taking it back and slipping his license over the polaroid.

"i can't keep a photo of my wife in my wallet? it's a comfort. a reminder of what i get to come home to." he smiles again slightly, looking down at you. "oh, so you do remember what a privilege it is that i stay with such a driven man." you exhale, pulling on his tie sharply before letting go, patting down his chest briefly, smoothing it out.

he puts two coins in the slot for coffee, waiting as the two cans drop and he lifts them both with his free hand, opening the tab for you, offering it.

"if we don't get home soon the ice cream will melt." he reminds you instead of replying directly, lifting the bag of grocery shopping from the ground next to the vending machine.

you lock your arm with his as you both begin walking again, before you speak up. "doesn't it get boring looking at the same photo over and over?" you ask kento, tilting your head.

he looks over at you, furrowing his eyebrows, "no, not at all." he replies, not a single doubt in his voice or his expression. "it's just one i particularly.. like." he shrugs and looks off as if he's recalling the options he had to choose from- no, he liked that one.

then he looks at you again. "are you suggesting you want to make new ones?" his expression clears again, but his ears are burning red, colour creeping up his neck.

"it does sound like another one is due." you smile again, as he keeps walking his hand slides down your forearm to hold your hand.

he pauses for a moment, as if deep in thought as you get nearer to your apartment.

"... the blue one. you'll have to wear that one." ken glances at you again, his mind clearly running as he takes out the keys from his jacket pocket. "huh?" you reply. "the dark one? with the straps? or the dressy one with the bows..." you ask him, thinking for a moment.

"... can’t we do both?" ken shrugs slightly as he opens the door to the hallway, and you begin to go up the steps together. "both... hm..." you smile again.

"i don't see why not." you pinch his shoulder as he opens your front door, and you help him lift the shopping bag onto the counter, starting to unpack. he smiles quietly to himself in that way he does where he doesn't even realise he's smiling.

"it's alright, i'll handle this. go, relax for a while." ken says as he sorts the items for the freezer, the cupboard, the fridge.

"how about i go and shower?" you lean forward on the counter. "and you can relax for an hour, i can make myself look really pretty..." you look up at him as he seems to shake his head in amusement.

"you already look beautiful. you don't have to do anything more."

"you know what i mean. please, i won't rush, and it will just give you a moment to yourself after this week." you smile again, coming around the counter.

".. do whatever you like. alright?" ken puts his hand on your hair, holding you to kiss your forehead. "okay.. don't count the minutes." you warned him jokingly as you pulled back, waltzing to your shared bedroom into the ensuite.

he's counting the seconds.

nanami put away the rest of the groceries as you turned on the shower to wash your hair.

he kept looking at his watch before he tried to listen to your instructions, loosening his tie and untucking his shirt to sit on the plush sofa.

he took out his wallet, his thumb tracing over the pocket with his license before taking out the polaroid. he hears music play from the bathroom as you get ready, and he can't help but feel a pinch of guilt.

of course she values these hours we get together, she wants every second to be perfect... i shouldn't question her at all anymore with these things, he thinks to himself. he looks at the photo with a slowly relaxing intensity, his shoulders sinking back into the couch as his teeth stopped their grinding.

he turns on the tv to let the time pass faster, only checking his watch every 3 or so minutes. meanwhile you tried not to rush drying yourself off, putting on the slightest bit of makeup that would match with the lingerie and still look good for the camera.

you take another while, making sure there's no drops of water lingering on your skin, first slipping on the cute babydoll dress. though you could hardly call it a dress. it was almost a completely sheer blue on your breasts, with lace fabric trailing down delicately to the light panties that had a tiny bow on the centre. and the back, well... well you couldn't say it wad modest exactly.

you spray a dash of perfume at your neck and fan it out before leaving the bathroom to go back to show nanami your work.

but you spot something delicious on the kitchen counter too. "ooh..!" you exclaim quietly going over to open the box of matcha cookies that kento left out.

nanami turned around as he heard you skip over, and his jaw almost drops. his lips part as he lets out some noise, between a gasp and a grunt of surprise and appreciation.

he wiped his jaw as he got up, and you took a bite of the soft green cookie. "mmm, sweetheart, these are so good..!" you smile as you swallow, covering your lips briefly as he gazed at you like it was for the first time.

"you're..." he breathed out, his hands reaching out, not knowing where to touch, as though he didn't know your body inside and out...

you look up at him, eyes hopeful for those next words, and you put down the cookie to put your hands on his arms. "you like it?" you ask him.

of course he likes it, christ. his throat was drier than the Sahara. "of course i do." he murmurs, his hands landing on your waist gently before gripping, hauling you up to wrap your legs around his waist.

he grunts slightly and smiles as you fix yourself on him, one hand under your thigh and the other on your waist. nanami's mouth traces your shoulder, teeth nipping and pulling at the strap of the lingerie, making it snap back onto your skin as you laugh a little.

"can't you be more careful?" you tug the hair on the back of his head gently. but he doesn't pull back, his lips and his tongue moving up to your jaw.

"i just can't control myself.. around my beautiful wife..." he murmurs, his tone soft and reassuring. he starts to walk, his hand keeping your butt up, "i could throw you down on the bed, stay there until monday..." he tells you, his voice still muffled as his nose brushed against the nape of your neck, opening the bedroom door.

he laid you down on the soft light sheets, hand tracing up your side under the transparent chiffon of the lingerie.

"but we have so many commitments..." you whisper back, smiling as you kiss his nose, thumb caressing his cheek as your eyes flick across his expression.

although his eyes contain a constantly present tiredness, there's something soft and genuine in them in this moment. combined with arousal, adoration, love.

"they don't matter to me... not like you do... like this does..." he breathes you in once more, his palm over the cup of your bra, aching to break inside. his hands hook under your thighs to pull you closer, the pressure instant as you gasp lightly, and his lips attach onto yours.

"leave the camera for now.." he growled lowly, tongue then tracing your lip, coaxing your mouth wide. you moan unashamedly into the kiss, arms wrapping around his neck as you try to grind your hips into the tight crotch of his trousers. your hand trails down, unbuttoning and unzipping his trousers.

feeling your hand palming his briefs makes kento groan, pressing himself further into your hand and towards your panties just to fan that flame. his face pulls back from yours, only to dive down to your chest and your stomach, lifting the chiffon with delicacy, pressing a kiss above your navel.

his hands hold just above your hips, before tugging down those blue panties. he exhales shakily, his breath warm against your skin, before pressing a kiss to the softness just above your navel. his lips linger there, why do these moments always feel so fleeting? he wants to focus on you. forever.

but as your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, his thoughts scatter in your passion. his palms slide up your thighs, then hook under your knees, pulling them apart wider as he lowers himself between your legs.

his tongue teases your hipbone, then moves lower as he traces lines down your inner thigh. his lips curl upward as he finally finds your clit, pressing a kiss to the spot to make your legs tighten around him. his tongue swirls around it, slowly picking up speed as he savours your taste.

he moans softly against you, the vibrations making your back arch, as you moan out. "kento.." you say, your fingers gripping the ends of his hair before you collapse back onto your elbows. he breathes you in again, his hands squeezing your ass to lift you further up into his mouth as he flattens his tongue and presses upwards.

his eyes are heavy lidded as he looks up to see your expression. face slightly scrunched, mouth open with small moans escaping at every breath.

his cock grows painfully hard in his briefs. he reaches into his trousers to shift it but pulls away to hear your soft mewl of protest. "ken, baby..." you complain slightly, confused as your breathing stays heavy, heartbeat throbbing in your clit.

"what did we say about being patient?" he asked you instead, though his breathing was just as heavy.

he dragged his hand down his face briefly, collecting himself before unbuttoning his trousers. he pulls down his briefs with them, gripping his thick cock in his hand. you lean up, pupils blown as your hand reaches out to touch him.

fingertips trace his abdomen, down to the base of his cock and the trimmed thin curls of hair surrounding.

your thumb rubs his wet tip, spreading pre-cum as he groaned quietly. but ken never saw the need for teasing. he runs his hand under your leg once more, leaning down as he lined your hips to his length, his tip sliding inside your cunt. nanami paused for a moment, his eyes closed as his nose nudged yours, your lips met with an intense passion.

"my beautiful wife..." he whispers, swallowing as he breathes heavily, gazing at the connect between your bodies as he pushes further inside. he starts slow, like always. starts. every movement made you writhe a little. feeling over speed.

“stay still… or…” he told you quietly, trailing off, the implication steady over your relationship. he needed his own moment to adjust inside of you. so sensitive. he never masturbated, never wanted to ruin the feeling. the longer you starve, the better it feels when you finally eat. “ken… mm..” you tilted your hips up, then your face to meet his lips again, kiss him, distract him until his chest pressed flush against yours.

his palm held under your thigh, lifting it higher as he buried his head into your shoulder, just breathing. his hips move in a careful thrust up, pausing then moving forward until you let out a sharper moan by his ear.

the way you tighten around his cock is enough to make him groan lowly, spurring him on until he stops being so soft with you. “ah..” you gasp as he pulls back and then slams back into you. once, then slow.. out… all the way in to hear you moan again. he pulls down the cups of the chiffon lingerie, exposing your breasts to the cool air as your nipples harden.

his hands find your hips more comfortably, and his hold tightens to tilt them higher. nanami’s tongue darts out onto your skin, tasting the sweat on your chest as he kisses down your breast, lips sucking around the bud of your breast.

his moans vibrate through your body as he keeps thrusting in and out of you at his own, hard, but leisurely pace. like you weren’t shuddering every time he his cock slid right against your g-spot, eyes shutting tight. as you haul yourself up to your elbows to try and angle that wouldn’t make you pass out, his lips pop off your nipple and he glances up. that look was enough to make you orgasm on the spot… through his pretty blonde eyelashes, his hair messed up, strands across his eyes.

your chest heaves as his pace slows exponentially. he huffs out a weak laugh, and rests his head on your collar. he pushes his hips up into you, pressing the tip of his cock against your cervix, as your walls tighten around him. “you’re tearing me apart, honey…”

he breathes out. kento kisses you again over the soft fabric, teeth nipping at your skin. “right here.. like this… you’re perfect..” he sighs, reaching over for the camera on the bedside table. you whine and look up at him, “ken, i’m about to.. don’t stop..” you reply, swallowing thickly as you tilt your head back.

his thumb comes back down to rub your clit in circles, pressing down to make your leg twitch, as he shifts his hips, moving in and out of you carefully, picking up speed slowly. he angles the camera, catching the edge of your face and your body, centering on the connect between your legs.

the flash goes off and you tighten around him again as the photo prints, your moan drowns out the whirring. “perfect.. you are… god..” he drops the camera on the bed next to you, arms hugging around your back to arch your spine as he slams his cock into you, faster and harder.

you let out a whine as you shudder, hands clawing down his back as he groans into your neck. “fuck..!” you moan out as you cum around him, oozing around his length, the noise pornographic as he pumps in and out of you. kento turns his face, shifting up, he kisses your mouth, tasting your moans. he almost shivers as he pulls out, your cunt milking the precum from his cock, it takes a second for him to regain focus.

driving home, he shallowly pumps into you, kissing your cervix five, six times, before he groans deeply against your lips.

his cum leaks from you after a long moment of him staying inside you, mixing with yours and making a lewd squelching sound when he lifts himself onto his elbow so he doesn’t crush you. “stay there.. stay..” he murmurs, nudging his nose against yours.

he holds around your lower back as you each catch your breath, inhaling deeply and kissing him softly as he turns over, resting you on his lap, still connected. “.. i love you, so much, honey..” he says quietly. “.. you know i’ll always think you look perfect.. like this.. it’s special to me…” he sighs softly.

you smile and exhale a slight laugh, “you’re so sweet after i let you cum inside of me…” you whisper. he laughs quietly as well, his voice rough as his hands slide up your sides, under the chiffon. “hm, well, i’ve got to get you locked down somehow..” he says. “trust me, you have me..” you kiss his cheek, then his lips.

“let’s take a look at those pictures..” he smiles slightly, picking up the camera and the photos that had fallen on the sheets. you shake your head, “noo, don’t you want pretty ones? i can’t see that now..” you cover your face as he takes a good, long look at them. his erection twitches and hardens inside of you.

“sweetheart, they are gorgeous.. shit..”

“you’re just saying that, you don’t know what gorgeous means..”

“it’s in front of me.. i put a ring on it.. perfect. i’m keeping this one.”

“ken..!”

➽──────────────❥

He had spent years forcing himself to understand that.

Yet understanding did not erase the guilt that gnawed at his chest.

Because no matter how much peace he helped bring into the world afterward, a small part of him still remembered the boy who ran away. The boy who abandoned his people hours before they were slaughtered.

And storms always brought that boy back.

It almost amused him sometimes. The Avatar, master of all four elements, brought to unease by rain and thunder. Air, water, lightning, wind; the very forces he bent with ease could still reduce his heart to something small and unsteady the moment dark clouds gathered overhead.

Not that he had made no progress.

He had.

His friends had never allowed him to remain frozen within that fear. Over the years, the storms no longer sent him spiraling the way they once had. He had learned to breathe through them, to steady himself, to trust his own bending enough to push forward despite the memories clawing at him.

But people often forget something important.

Aang had not been alone in that storm all those years ago.

Appa had been there too.

And unlike Aang, Appa had never truly been given the comfort of understanding why it happened. He only remembered the cold, the panic, the endless sky swallowing them whole.

The sky bison had improved over the years. Aang's presence helped, his bending helped, and together they had managed smaller storms countless times before.

This was different.

At least Momo could hide beneath the shelter of Aang's cloak, small enough to tuck himself safely against his chest. Appa had no such luxury. The massive creature endured every violent gust directly, fur soaked through beneath relentless rain, while thunder cracked loudly to shake the skies.

The storm swallowed everything in its wake.

The wind screamed past them hard to sting exposed skin while rain lashed against Aang's face in freezing sheets. Even breathing had become difficult now, each inhale cut sharply by the violent air around them.

And then came the lightning.

Spirits, the lightning.

Aang could redirect rivers, part storms, bend entire currents of air to clear their path if he focused hard enough. But lightning, real lightning, remained wild even to him. 

He was confident in his ability to redirect it, but even so, he could never tell where the trajectory will be set at. It was unpredictable.

The first strike shattered across the clouds so violently that Appa lurched beneath him.

Aang's stomach dropped instantly.

"Easy, Appa!" he shouted over the storm, gripping tighter on the ropes. "We'll land somewhere safe, alright?!"

But Appa barely heard him.

Thunder drowned his voice while another strike ripped through the sky, illuminating the storm in blinding white for half a second before plunging everything back into the grey.

The shift in Appa's flying became worse afterward.

He was panicked, completely unsteady in his movements, and suddenly Aang was no longer seeing the storm around him.

He hearing himself cry out.

Feeling Appa fall.

"No, no— Appa!"

The sky bison bucked violently beneath him the moment another lightning strike split overhead, terror finally overtaking whatever control had remained. Aang reached forward immediately, trying to steady him, trying to calm him, but the storm swallowed every command before it could reach him.

Then his world tilted.

Aang's scream tore through the wind as Appa suddenly dropped beneath the clouds, massive body struggling against the violent air while the storm dragged them downward faster and faster.

"Appa!"

The moment Appa dropped beneath the clouds entirely, Aang reacted on instinct.

Violent currents of air burst outward beneath them as he thrust both hands forward, forcing wind beneath Appa's massive body in desperate attempts to steady the fall. At the same time, water from the storm answered his command immediately, swirling upward around them before freezing against sections of the saddle and harness in hopes of anchoring Appa against the violent pull of the storm.

But nothing held.

The winds collapsed too quickly beneath Appa's sheer size while the rain shattered every frozen restraint almost instantly.

Another brutal drop threw Aang clean off of Appa altogether, his fingers not managing to catch the soaked leather straps before the storm ripped him away entirely.

"Appa!" he shouted again, louder this time, panic bleeding into his voice.

Momo clung violently beneath his cloak, tiny claws digging through the fabric against his chest, trembling hard enough for Aang to feel it even through the storm. Yet all of his attention remained fixed upon Appa, whose terrified cries had grown faint beneath the screaming wind around them.

Then Aang saw the ground.

The clearing below had finally become visible through the rain, though barely. Trees stretched endlessly beneath them, but several near the clearing looked wrong. They were freshly cut. their jagged trunks sharpened into dangerous points where they had splintered unevenly from recent logging.

Aang's stomach dropped.

He forced more air downward, harder this time, powerful enough that the wind around them briefly split apart beneath the pressure. The winds caught Appa for half a second before another violent crack of lightning exploded overhead.

Appa jerked sharply sideways in terror, and suddenly they were falling again.

Aang's tattoos ignited before he consciously realized what was happening.

White light erupted through the storm as the Avatar State surged through him violently, illuminating the rain around them while the winds below twisted upward with force. The storm itself seemed to recoil for one fleeting moment beneath the sudden power pouring from him.

Aang reached desperately toward Appa, every current of air rushing downward beneath the sky bison in one final attempt to stop the fall before impact.

But he was too late.

Appa hit the ground first.

A horrifying roar tore through the storm the instant one of the sharpened tree trunks drove clean through Appa's leg.

The Avatar State vanished immediately.

"Appa!"

Pure panic overtook everything else.

Aang twisted violently midair, abandoning the winds meant to soften his own landing as he reached toward Appa instead, horror flooding through him at the sight of blood already staining the rain-soaked ground beneath the sky bison.

But the earth was already rushing too close beneath him.

Desperation seized him as air exploded beneath his body seconds before impact, forcing the worst of the fall away while violent currents twisted him sideways just enough to avoid the sharpened trunks surrounding the clearing.

Even then, the landing remained brutal.

His body slammed harshly against the soaked earth before momentum sent him skidding violently across mud and shattered branches. Pain burst sharply across the corner of his forehead the moment his head struck something solid beneath the rain.

The world tilted sickeningly around him as the storm continued roaring overhead.

Appa's cries echoed somewhere nearby, weaker and pained enough to claw straight through Aang's chest.

He tried to move. He really tried to reach him.

His fingers barely dragged across the mud before his strength gave out beneath him entirely.

The last things Aang heard before darkness consumed him were Appa's agonized cries...and Momo's frantic screeching somewhere close by.

"It— it is the Avatar!"

The guard's stunned exclamation cut through the lingering drizzle, confirming the suspicion Prince Jinhai had arrived with hours earlier.

The moment the brilliant blue light had erupted beyond the mountains during the storm, he had already known.

There were few things within the world capable of illuminating the skies themselves in such a manner.

And only one man capable of glowing like the heavens had briefly split open.

The storm had delayed investigation for several hours. Even now, rain still lingered stubbornly across the forest in a thin silver drizzle while soldiers moved carefully through mud and broken branches surrounding the clearing.

The aftermath itself looked devastating.

Several trees had been uprooted entirely while others remained shattered where violent winds had torn through. Deep trenches scarred the soaked earth, evidence of air currents powerful enough to force even massive objects aside.

And at the center of it all lay the Avatar.

Nearby, the enormous sky bison let out weak, pained groans from where one of the broken tree trunks remained lodged through his leg, the wound severe enough that several soldiers had wisely refused approaching him too closely despite his weakened state.

"It seems Your Highness was correct," one of the commanders remarked cautiously. "How do you wish to proceed?"

Advisor Shuren approached shortly afterward, a dark umbrella held carefully above himself while rain continued dripping steadily.

Prince Jinhai remained silent for several moments.

His attention lingered first upon the unconscious Avatar sprawled across the mud, then toward the wounded sky bison whose cries had softened into exhausted rumbling now.

Finally, he spoke.

"I shall entrust the Avatar's hospitality to you, Advisor Shuren."

The older man inclined his head respectfully.

"Are you certain, Your Highness?"

"The palace cannot spare its physicians at present," Jinhai answered calmly. "Your estate possesses the better resources for immediate treatment, and the sky bison will require far more space than the royal grounds can presently provide."

Rainwater slid quietly from the edge of his robes while servants nearby hurried to prepare stretchers beneath the soldiers' orders.

"Have your physicians brought here immediately," the prince continued. "Ensure both the Avatar and his companion receive proper care. Once the Avatar has recovered sufficiently, I shall pay my respects personally."

"Of course, Your Highness."

Then, after a brief pause, Shuren added smoothly—

"You may also join my daughter for tea during your visit. I imagine such company would greatly please her."

That finally earned a faint trace of acknowledgment from the prince.

"Perhaps I shall." Jinhai answered simply.

Not another word followed, he merely turned and made his way back toward the waiting ostrich horse carriage stationed near the forest road, attendants immediately moving to shield him from the rain while soldiers resumed preparing the unconscious Avatar for transport beneath Shuren's supervision.

The first thing Aang became aware of was warmth.

Not the comforting warmth of sunlight or Appa's fur beneath his cheek during long flights, but something more unpleasant. It was humid, stifling almost. It clung against his skin while the faint scent of herbs and incense lingered thickly within the air around him.

Then came the pain, a sharp throb pulsed along the corner of his forehead while the rest of his body ached in waves that made even breathing feel difficult.

Aang winced faintly before forcing his eyes open.

For several seconds, nothing made sense. His sight was blurry, eyelids seemingly stuck together as if he hadn't opened them for a decade.

Dark wooden ceilings stretched high above him while pale curtains shifted gently near an open window somewhere nearby. The room itself looked expensive, furnished with carved wood, painted screens, and silk drapery that did not resemble any Earth Kingdom inn he had ever stayed within before.

He blinked slowly.

Then his memory returned all at once.

The storm.

The fall.

Appa.

Aang jolted upright immediately.

"Appa!"

Pain exploded through his head so violently that his vision blurred again, yet panic had already overtaken reason by then. He barely noticed the cloth slipping from his forehead before hurried footsteps rushed toward him from somewhere within the room.

"Avatar Aang, please—"

"Where's Appa?!" he demanded breathlessly, his voice coming out in a rasp as it burned from straining.

He tried to push himself fully from the bed despite the dizziness crashing through him. 

"He got hurt— there was a tree and I—"

"Please calm yourself."

Two physicians quickly moved to steady him before he could properly stand, their voices calm even though they were shocked that he had finally awakened again.

"You suffered a severe head injury, Avatar."

"I don't care about that right now, where's Appa?!"

The panic in his voice came out harsher than intended.

"He was bleeding, I saw him get hurt—"

"The sky bison survived."

The reassurance arrived swiftly, making him halt mid-sentence.

Aang stared at the older physician for half a second.

"He's alive?"

"Yes."

Relief struck him so hard his shoulders nearly sagged beneath it.

His hand rose shakily toward his forehead to steady himself, to ground his thoughts, but instead of meeting only feverish skin and sweat, his fingers caught within unfamiliar strands of hair. 

The texture startled him immediately, damp and overgrown enough that he could notice how dense it was. 

His brows furrowed faintly as his hand dragged lower, fingertips brushing across rough stubble scattered unevenly along his jaw and chin.

Aang froze.

Spirits.

Just how long had he been lying here?

Before he could question it, however, another figure entered the room.

The physicians stepped aside almost immediately.

Strangely, Aang recognized the man vaguely.

But it wasn't from memory exactly, but they came in hazy fragments of the past few days drifting through his fevered mind.

He looked a lot older than him, dressed in refined Earth Kingdom robes dark enough to border solemnity, his composure carrying the unmistakable restraint that he observed in Zuko.

"My name is Shuren," the man introduced calmly. 

"I am pleased to see you awake at last, Avatar Aang."

Aang blinked at him, not understanding what to respond when the man had covered his side of the introduction as well. So, he simply asked the question that had been interrupted on his entrance.

"How long was I out?"

"A little over two weeks."

Silence followed immediately afterward. Aang genuinely thought he had misheard him.

"What?"

"You suffered a concussion during the fall," Shuren explained patiently while one of the physicians resumed adjusting the cloth upon Aang's forehead. 

"The fever developed shortly afterward. Though you remained unconscious for most of that time, there were periods during the last several days where you briefly woke, spoke very little, and fell unconscious once more."

Aang barely processed half the explanation.

"Two weeks?" he repeated again, horrified now. "Appa's been hurt for two weeks?!"

"The sky bison? The wound to his leg was severe," Shuren admitted. "However, treatment was administered immediately upon your arrival."

Aang shut his eyes briefly at that, a shaky breath escaping him.

The guilt returned instantly, having been so helpless during the storm, he felt like that boy once again.

"I need to see him."

"You require rest first."

"No, I really don't," Aang answered quickly. "I'm fine now, I just need to see him—"

"You are not fine."

The statement interrupted him gently, though firmly enough that even he settled down.

Shuren approached closer, not in an intimidating manner, yet arguing against him felt strangely childish despite Aang's urgency.

"Your fever has only recently lowered," he continued. "And my physicians have informed me your head injury appears to be healing properly, which proves true now that you have finally remained conscious for longer than several minutes." 

Then after a brief pause, he added, "You will be of little help to your companion should you collapse beside him."

Aang hated how reasonable that sounded. Still, the panic refused settling entirely.

"How is he?" he asked quietly this time.

Shuren's expression softened faintly.

"My daughter has personally overseen much of your sky bison's care in your absence. His condition remains stable, though recovery will require time."

That eased something inside Aang, and although something dropped in his gut at the thought of not seeing Appa, he chose to trust this man.

"Thank you, really." he said quietly, sincerity settling easily into the words despite his exhaustion.

Aang slowly settled back against the pillows, when another thought struck him suddenly.

His head lifted again despite the ache pulsing violently behind his eyes.

"Wait," he said quickly. "Where's Momo?"

A brief silence followed and Shuren regarded him with faint confusion before answering,

"We did not discover another person alongside you, Avatar."

"No, no— not a person," Aang corrected quickly despite the throbbing pain worsening across his skull. 

"He's a lemur. Small, white fur, wings— well, not actual wings, but kind of—" He cut himself off abruptly as another jolt of pain travelled across his head.

"You...really didn't find him?"

Regret briefly crossed one of the physicians' expressions before Shuren answered instead.

"I apologize, Avatar Aang, but when my men arrived at the site, only you and your sky bison were found within the clearing."

The relief Aang had felt moments ago tightened painfully all over again.

Momo was clever and fast.

He had escaped dangerous situations before without difficulty.

Yet none of those reassurances truly settled against the image trapped inside Aang's mind; rain swallowing the skies whole while Appa fell screaming beneath the storm.

His chest tightened.

"He's...probably alright," Aang murmured quietly after a moment, though the words sounded more like something he was forcing himself to believe.

"Momo...always finds...his way back somehow." His words slurred now, no longer able to resist the throbbing pain around his head.

"We shall continue searching the surrounding forests," Shuren assured him calmly. 

"For now, however, you must prioritize your recovery."

This time, Aang lacked the strength to argue.

The exhaustion had begun settling far heavier into his body now that the panic had ebbed. His thoughts felt sluggish beneath the throbbing pain while even remaining upright had started requiring effort.

Slowly, he sank deeper against the bedding.

"Can I see Appa...when I wake up?" he asked quietly, the sentence slurring faintly toward the end beneath his fatigue.

"Yes," Shuren answered. "Once you are capable of standing without collapsing, I shall personally ensure it."

That earned the faintest trace of relief from Aang before the exhaustion finally overtook him fully.

The room blurred gradually around him while the physicians stepped closer once more, their voices growing distant, the heaviness dragging him back toward unconsciousness.

"My lord, he truly should not be exerting himself so greatly," one of the physicians murmured quietly nearby.

"I agree," Shuren replied evenly. "Inform me immediately once he wakes again, and ensure proper meals are prepared for him this time."

Aang barely heard the rest.

The following days passed slowly, though far kinder than the first.

The fever eventually faded completely, leaving behind only lingering exhaustion and the dull ache still resting at the corner of Aang's forehead whenever he moved too quickly. 

The physicians remained irritatingly strict throughout his recovery, refusing to allow him beyond the manor halls until he could stand and walk without nearly collapsing back onto the floor afterward.

Aang hated every second of it.

He had never been particularly gifted at remaining still.

Especially not while Appa remained injured somewhere beyond his reach.

By the fifth morning, however, the world had finally stopped tilting every time he stood upright, and that alone became enough for him to immediately begin demanding permission to see Appa properly.

The proper bath he had finally been allowed the this morning, along with the freshly shaved stubble and newly shorn hair had returned enough familiarity to his reflection that he almost felt like himself again.

One of the servants eventually guided him toward a quieter section of the manor where Advisor Shuren had apparently been handling his morning affairs. Aang found the older man seated within an open pavilion overlooking the estate gardens, steam rising faintly from the untouched tea resting beside him.

The rainstorms had long since passed.

Sunlight stretched warmly across the stone pathways and flowering trees surrounding the estate, the entire manor looking far calmer than the chaos Aang remembered waking into days earlier.

Shuren rose politely once Aang approached.

"It is good to see you walking properly, Avatar Aang. You have regained the color of your skin."

"I'm just glad my head finally stopped trying to split itself open." Aang admitted honestly, rubbing lightly at the corner of his forehead before getting straight to the point. 

"Can I see Appa now?"

A faint trace of amusement crossed Shuren's features at the lack of formalities.

"I had assumed that would be your first request."

"How is he? Really." Aang asked quickly afterward.

Shuren motioned for him to walk alongside him through the gardens as he answered.

"The wound was severe," Shuren admitted. 

"Had my men arrived any later, I do not believe your companion would have survived the blood loss." He paused briefly before continuing.

"The injury to his leg will prevent him from flying for some time. However, you may trust my physicians to oversee both his healing and rehabilitation with utmost care."

Then, more quietly, he added, "My daughter has also overseen much of his care herself these past weeks."

Relief visibly softened something within Aang at hearing all of Shuren's explanation.

"He's really okay?"

"He is recovering well."

Aang smiled then, genuine enough that exhaustion momentarily disappeared from him.

"I seriously don't know how I'll ever repay you for all this."

Shuren merely smiled faintly in return.

"It is an honor to aid the Avatar," he answered calmly. "For all you have done for this world, consider any debt already repaid."

That only made Aang feel guiltier somehow.

Still, he nodded gratefully before beginning to step away, taking a guess at where Appa had been kept.

"Although..."

Shuren's voice halted him midway.

Aang glanced back immediately.

"Yes?"

The older man turned to face him, folding his hands neatly behind his back before continuing with complete composure.

"If you truly wish to repay your dues, then there is one matter I would ask of you."

"Oh, sure," Aang answered easily. "What is it?"

"I implore you to take the hand of my daughter."

Pure silence followed his words as The Avatar stared at him.

Aang blinked once.

Then twice.

"Your daughter's hand..." he repeated slowly. "You mean...marry her?"

"Yes."

Shuren sounded perfectly calm saying it too, which made the conversation even stranger.

"I understand you have yet to meet her, though I assure you she is a lovely young woman." He continued smoothly.

Aang genuinely did not know how to respond.

His brain seemed to stall somewhere between confusion and panic while every instinct inside him screamed at him not to accidentally offend the man who had just saved both him and Appa.

"Oh."

Brilliant response.

"I'm...really not looking to get married," he admitted carefully.

To his surprise, Shuren simply chuckled softly at that.

"It is quite alright. I merely assumed that, given your age, you might already be considering a wife. It seems I was mistaken."

Given his age?

Aang nearly frowned.

He had barely entered his twenties.

As much as he wanted to point that out, however, something told him arguing about age expectations with what Aang was assuming was Earth Kingdom royalty probably would not improve the conversation.

Instead, he settled for awkward politeness.

"Uh...sorry?"

Shuren only smiled again, entirely unbothered.

"My daughter should presently be within her boudoir," he said instead. "She shall guide you to your sky bison personally. My ushers will gladly escort you there."

Aang nodded quickly, perhaps a little too relieved for the conversation to be ending.

"Right. Thanks."

And with that, he followed after the waiting ushers while trying very hard not to think about the fact that he had just been offered a political marriage before even properly getting out of bed.

Morning still clung stubbornly to you despite the late hour.

You lounged lazily against the curved seat resting within your boudoir, the shape of the chair supporting your back so comfortably that it only threatened to lull you back toward sleep. 

Though you had already bathed earlier, the warm water had done little to erase the lingering drowsiness weighing behind your eyes.

So instead, you remained seated within your dressing chamber still clad in your pale inner robes while your maids busied themselves around you.

Soft conversation drifted easily throughout the room alongside the faint scent of jasmine tea steeping nearby. One of the girls carefully poured fresh tea into your cup before placing the kettle back upon the low table situated in front of your lounge chair.

"My lady, you truly should be dressed by now."

"It is nearly noon," another added immediately afterward. "Lord Shuren will certainly scold us all if he discovers you still lingering here half asleep."

"Yes, and you must stop remaining outside your chambers so late into the evenings." Meilin continued while folding silks nearby. 

"Your sleep has been dreadful all week because of it."

The scolding continued softly around you, though none of it carried genuine irritation. They were all young women, only slightly older than yourself, yet close enough to feel more familiar than servants within the privacy of your chambers.

You accepted the tea with a quiet word of thanks before sinking further into the chair, taking a slow sip while warmth spread pleasantly through your hands.

"My lady, are you listening to us at all?" Lian pressed knowingly. 

"Yes." you answered easily. "But the dear sky bison has been such lovely company these past several evenings. I find myself rather enjoying our time together."

"It is quite adorable," Nari agreed immediately.

"It truly." you sighed softly. "Poor thing. To suffer such a terrible injury..."

A faint smile touched Suyin's face from where she sorted through your jewelry nearby.

"It seems you have grown rather attached to him."

"I have." You admitted without shame before a teasing smirk curved faintly along your mouth. 

"Do you suppose the boy would allow me to keep him if I asked politely?"

The reaction around the room was immediate.

"That is the Avatar you speak of!" Meilin exclaimed. "And did you truly just refer to him as a boy? He is older than all of us."

You blinked.

"He is?" Genuine surprise crossed your face. "He looked terribly young when I caught a glimpse of him."

"Well," Nari began carefully, "he is technically over one hundred years old."

"What?"

All four girls stared at you with varying degrees of disbelief.

"My lady..." Lian sighed patiently. "The Avatar disappeared one hundred years ago and remained frozen until 10 years ago. Surely you remember this."

"Oh."

You paused briefly, genuinely attempting to recall the details.

"Right. I completely forgot that part occurred before he ended the war." You murmured.

Suyin looked horrified.

"You are astonishingly ignorant regarding history."

"Enough with the scolding already." You complained while lifting your cup once more. "Allow me to enjoy my tea in peace."

While laughter and quiet complaints continued within the room, elsewhere in the manor Aang followed silently behind the two ushers guiding him through the estate halls.

The place was enormous.

Even after spending time within the Fire Nation palace during the war, Aang still found himself impressed by the sheer scale of the manor surrounding him.

At some point, a realization suddenly struck him.

He actually had no idea who these people were.

Were they nobility?

Royalty?

Rich tea enthusiasts with very concerningly large homes?

Before he could properly settle on an answer, the ushers finally stopped outside a pair of tall wooden doors.

Then, to Aang's utter confusion, both men simply gestured toward the entrance before immediately turning to leave.

Aang stared after them.

"...Wait, what?"

Neither answered.

They simply continued walking away down the corridor while leaving him entirely alone outside the room.

For several awkward seconds, Aang stood there unsure what exactly he was supposed to do now.

Finally, he knocked.

Inside the dressing chamber, both you and your maids lifted your attention toward the doors instinctively, waiting for the usual announcement to follow.

None came.

One of the girls frowned faintly.

"Shall I see who it is, my lady?"

Before she could step away from behind your chair, however, you lazily raised your hand to stop her.

"Leave it," you answered simply before taking another slow sip of tea. "Had it been important, they would have announced themselves properly."

"Perhaps it is the Avatar himself," Nari suggested suddenly, her voice brightening at the thought. "Maybe he has come to thank my lady for caring for his sky bison."

Meilin nearly lit up beside her.

"He is rather handsome, do you not think?"

Suyin let out a quiet sound of agreement while Lian remained composed near the vanity, still patiently waiting for you to finish your tea so she could finally begin dressing you properly.

"Yes!" Nari whispered excitedly. "Even the lack of hair somehow does not take away from his—"

The chamber doors suddenly swung open.

The youngest maid nearly choked on her own words.

Aang stepped inside with complete innocence, entirely unaware he had just committed several forms of social violence.

In his defense, no one had answered.

To Aang, that simply meant perhaps they had not heard the knocking.

And considering he had already spent the past week trapped in bed worrying himself sick over Appa, patience had not exactly remained his strongest quality this morning.

The moment he entered, silence consumed the room instantly.

Nari went pale.

All four maids immediately lowered themselves into respectful bows at the sight of the Avatar standing within the doorway.

You, however, remained perfectly seated.

Only shock crossed your features at first, though offense overtook it quickly enough afterward.

"Oh— hey," Aang began awkwardly, suddenly far less confident beneath the atmosphere awaiting him inside. 

"Are you Shuren's...daughter...?"

The sentence weakened noticeably toward the end once he properly registered the expression staring back at him.

Slowly, you lowered your teacup onto the table beside you.

"How dare you enter a lady's chambers so abruptly?"

Aang blinked.

"Oh! Sorry! It's just— your father told me to come find you."

A quiet breath escaped you then, one carrying such profound disbelief that Aang instinctively straightened once he heard it.

You leaned further back against the lounge chair afterward, studying him openly without attempting to hide your displeasure.

"This is a dressing chamber." You informed him calmly. "Have you no shame barging inside so rudely?"

"My lady," Lian interrupted carefully before Aang could answer, "you must not address him so harshly. He remains both the Avatar and a guest recovering within this manor."

You ignored her entirely.

Meanwhile, Aang looked genuinely lost now.

"I knocked," he defended weakly. "But nobody answered."

"Because you were denied an audience."

The statement came smoothly from your lips while you continued holding his stare without the slightest hint of intimidation.

"No one enters or leaves this room without my permission."

Aang opened his mouth.

Then closed it again.

"Oh, I'm really sorry." He murmured awkwardly. 

And honestly, he sounded sincere enough that the younger maids nearly pitied him.

Slowly, he stepped backward toward the doorway, clearly intending to remove himself from whatever noble disaster he had apparently wandered into.

Then your voice stopped him again.

"Did you not hear me?"

Aang paused immediately.

"What?"

You tilted your chin upward slightly against the cushions supporting you, composure returning fully now that his panic had become visible.

"I said," you repeated calmly, "no one enters or leaves without my permission."

There was something deeply imperious in the way you said it.

It wasn't cruel. 

You were merely accustomed to obedience.

Aang genuinely did not know what the correct response to that was supposed to be.

"...Okay?"

"Come closer."

The command arrived softly yet it somehow sounded even more authoritative.

Aang hesitated for half a second before awkwardly obeying anyway, carefully approaching further into the room while the maids silently watched the entire exchange unfold with barely concealed horror.

You studied him for another brief moment before finally leaning forward from your chair, reaching for the kettle still resting atop the low table beside you. 

With calm precision, you flipped one of the untouched cups upright before pouring fresh tea into it, steam curling softly between you both.

"My apologies," you started smoothly while setting the kettle aside once more. "As you can see, I am not appropriately dressed to receive company. Your abrupt entrance startled me somewhat."

Only then did Aang properly register your attire.

His eyes widened slightly before darting elsewhere almost immediately.

"Oh— sorry," he muttered quickly. "I can come back later."

"No, please. It is quite alright." you answered at once, rising gracefully from your seat before he could retreat again. 

The thin inner robes shifted softly around you while you approached him, teacup balanced carefully atop its accompanying saucer. You stopped only a short distance away before lifting the offering toward him.

"Tea?" You asked gently, the first genuine smile of the morning finally touching your features.

The sudden warmth in your demeanor caught Aang entirely off guard.

"Oh. Uh...thanks."

He accepted the cup carefully, though he still seemed incapable of properly looking at you now that he had realized what sort of room he had barged into.

Once the tea had left your hands, you stepped back politely before joining your hands, one palm covering your fist as you inclined your head in a small formal bow.

"Avatar Aang, It is an honor." You greeted properly this time. 

Aang awkwardly nodded in return, inclining his head as well, still clutching both cup and saucer oddly close to himself.

"Did my father truly send for you?"

"Yes, I needed to talk to you about something." He answered quickly. 

The way he held the teacup near his face almost resembled someone using a shield, and you almost chuckled once you realized he was using it to cover your attire from his line of sight.

"I see."

Then, without hesitation, you turned toward your maids.

"Leave us."

You waited for a moment but none of them moved.

Slowly, you looked back toward them instead, finding the three younger girls visibly unsettled while Lian alone remained composed beneath your attention.

"We shall not leave, my lady," she answered respectfully. "You remain improperly dressed at present. It would be inappropriate for you to receive a man alone under such circumstances." 

Then after the briefest pause, she added carefully, "We shall remain present to avoid any future misunderstandings."

At that, your attention briefly lowered toward your attire once more before a quiet sigh escaped you.

"Suit yourselves."

Aang, meanwhile, looked increasingly uncertain regarding every possible aspect of this interaction.

The irritation faded from your features quickly enough, replaced once more by practiced hospitality.

"Come," You said lightly while reaching for the sleeve of his robes. "Have a seat."

Aang nearly startled at the sudden contact before allowing himself to be guided toward the lounge chair you had occupied earlier.

"Please do not mind me." You continued while moving toward the far side of the room where an embroidered partition stood waiting near the vanity. 

"Come, ladies."

The maids immediately followed after you.

Aang watched them disappear behind the screen before hurriedly looking away again the moment he noticed the pale inner robes you had been wearing moments earlier slipping carelessly to the floor beside the partition.

Spirits.

What kind of conversation was this becoming?

He could hear the 'strict maid' (as he titled her in his mind) softly scolding you for so underdressed before company, though her reprimands only earned a quiet fit of laughter from you as you insisted he looked far too flustered to dare glance your way regardless, and that he would sooner pluck his own eyes out than look your way.

His eye twitched faintly at the exchange, irritation prickling through him at the feeling that you were making light of his presence, though he forced himself not to form a complete opinion of you from this interaction alone, especially after hearing repeatedly from Shuren that you had been taking care of Appa.

Almost as if you had heard his mind—

"Have you come seeking your sky bison?"

Your voice drifted toward him from behind the partition while soft rustling sounds filled the room afterward, silks shifting gently while the maids began dressing you properly.

Immediately, Aang remembered why he had come here in the first place.

"Oh— yeah," he answered quickly. "Can I please see him? I just...need to make sure he's really okay."

despite not seeing his face, you could feel the worry radiating off him from his voice alone.

"Yes, of course." You answered gently enough that even hidden behind the partition, Aang could hear the smile threading through your words. 

"That adorable creature has been terribly eager to see you again as well."

Aang lowered his eyes toward the tea in his hands.

"I have too." He admitted softly.

The next several minutes passed in relative silence while your maids continued dressing you.

Meanwhile, Aang sat awkwardly upon the edge of the lounge chair quietly sipping tea while attempting very hard not to think about where he was looking, where he was sitting, or why every noble person he had met within this manor spoke as though they belonged inside ancient scrolls.

Honestly, he missed Sokka.

At least Sokka would have known how to survive whatever this was.

Eventually, movement stirred once more from behind the partition before you finally stepped back into view.

And suddenly Aang understood why he had mistaken this manor for royalty.

The silks draped elegantly around you spoke immediately of status, from the careful embroidery woven through the fabric to the jade ornaments resting lightly against your wrists and hair. Even without introduction, royalty clung naturally to you.

"Come, I shall take you to him." You said simply. 

You moved immediately toward the doors, clearly expecting him to follow.

"Your hair, my lady!" Lian called after you in alarm.

"I shall return later to have it arranged properly." You answered without slowing once.

And despite still not fully understanding what had just happened during the last ten or so minutes, Aang found himself following after you anyway.

The manor halls stretched quietly around you while servants moved carefully out of your path the moment they noticed your approach. 

Aang followed only half a pace behind, still holding the empty teacup one of the maids had apparently forgotten to retrieve from him.

For a while, the silence remained comfortable enough.

Then Aang finally spoke.

"Um...I'm really sorry for disturbing you earlier," he admitted awkwardly while keeping pace beside you. "I probably should've asked your father to send somebody else instead."

"It is quite alright," you answered smoothly without slowing your steps. 

"Your sky bison remains under careful protection. At present, only authorized physicians, my father, and myself possess permission to enter his recovery chambers."

Relief visibly softened something within him at hearing that.

"Oh. Thank goodness."

"Since my father remains occupied with court matters most days, he simply requested that I receive you in his stead." You continued.

Aang rubbed lightly at the back of his neck.

"I don't think he realized you were...busy."

A faint breath escaped you then, suspiciously close to amusement.

"No, I believe he understood perfectly well." You corrected calmly.

That finally confused him enough to pull his full attention away from thoughts of Appa.

"Then why would he—"

You stopped walking abruptly.

Aang nearly walked directly into you before awkwardly catching himself a step behind.

Slowly, you turned toward him.

"Did...my father ask you to marry me?"

The question struck him with such force that his eyes widened immediately.

"...Uhh...Yeah."

There truly was no graceful response to that conversation, apparently.

"But I'm really not looking to marry anyone," he added quickly afterward, the words rushing from him with enough panic that it almost sounded like he feared offending you personally.

To his surprise, your expression shifted faintly at that answer.

You seemed annoyed.

"You should have simply informed him you were already betrothed." You murmured.

Aang blinked.

Well.

That would have worked.

Except it also would have been a lie.

"...I guess."

Only then do you notice him still holding the teacup, pulling your brows in confusion as you took it from him, and passed it off to a passing maid.

You exhaled softly before continuing down the corridor once more.

"In his mind, you have not truly rejected the proposal." You explained while Aang hurried to catch up beside you again. "Which means he shall continue attempting to persuade you otherwise."

"What? But he didn't even seem upset." Aang stared openly now. 

"Of course not." You sounded almost offended he expected otherwise. 

"My father would never openly display disappointment during negotiation. That is precisely why he sent you to my chambers instead."

Realization slowly dawned across Aang's face.

"...Oh."

"He likely assumed your opinion would change after seeing me."

The bluntness of the statement nearly made Aang choke on absolutely nothing.

You merely rolled your eyes lightly.

"My father has always possessed a deeply opportunistic nature. Frankly, I had already expected this conversation on your arrival to our estate."

After a pause, you quietly added—

"I suppose such instincts become necessary for men in positions such as his."

Aang remained thoughtful while you resumed leading him through the estate halls.

"Wait," he said suddenly. "Positions such as his...?"

You glanced toward him.

"Are you... royalty?"

You stopped again.

This time genuine disbelief crossed your expression.

"Spirits, no." You looked at him almost incredulously. 

"Do you truly not know where you are, Avatar Aang? Did my father not inform you?"

Aang awkwardly shook his head.

Honestly, between Appa, the concussion, the fever, and the marriage proposal, geographical orientation had not exactly remained his priority recently.

Without another word, you motioned for him to follow before approaching one of the enormous open archways lining the corridor. Sunlight spilled warmly through the opening while the kingdom beyond stretched beautifully across the mountainside below.

Then you pointed toward the massive palace overlooking the city in the distance.

Even from here, its scale remained unmistakable.

"That is the Royal Palace of Hujiang." You informed him. 

Aang stared openly, eyes subtly lighting up.

Huge was honestly an understatement.

"That is where you would have been received under ordinary circumstances," you continued. 

"However, His Majesty's health has not been favorable these past months. Therefore, Prince Jinhai entrusted your care to my father instead."

"Ohhh." Aang murmured slowly, finally beginning to piece things together. 

"So your father—"

"Is the Royal Advisor."

"And you're...a noble?"

"Precisely."

You inclined your head once, looking back at him.

"I am also betrothed to the Crown Prince."

That earned his attention fully, turning his head to look at you instead of the Palace.

"...Seriously?"

You looked back toward the distant palace briefly.

"That shall become my residence eventually, once the marriage is finalized." You said softly. 

Aang stared at you for another moment before a smile suddenly broke across his face.

"So you're gonna be queen?"

"Queen consort," you corrected lightly.

"Well, you already kinda look like one." He admitted honestly, a soft smile gracing his face.

Something gentler touched your expression then.

"I suppose I am halfway there." You humored him, smiling back at him.

For several seconds, silence settled comfortably between you both again before Aang frowned.

"Wait a second."

You glanced toward him.

"If you're already marrying the prince...then why did your father ask me to marry you?"

The confusion sounded genuine and it nearly amused you.

"As I said before, my father is an opportunist. Should he perceive a future more advantageous for me elsewhere, he would not hesitate pursuing it." You answered patiently.

"But you'd already have an entire kingdom, that sounds way bigger than marrying an Air Nomad." Aang pointed out.

You smiled faintly at that.

"Not merely an Air Nomad, The Avatar who ended the Hundred Year War." You corrected softly.

You waited a moment before you continued, hesitating from speaking the truth.

"I imagine he finds greater prestige within that title."

Aang frowned thoughtfully at the floor beneath him for several seconds.

That honestly felt...strange.

Uncomfortable too.

You noticed immediately.

"Do not trouble yourself over it excessively." You said before turning away from the archway once more. 

"Come. Your sky bison has been waiting quite patiently for you."

By the time you both reached the recovery chambers, the guards stationed outside immediately straightened at your approach before pushing open the enormous wooden doors without question.

Warm air carrying the scent of herbs drifted outward at once.

The room itself had clearly once served another purpose entirely before being converted into temporary medical quarters large enough to accommodate a sky bison. Thick mattresses had been layered together across most of the floor for comfort while clean sheets, medicine trays, and water basins lined the surrounding walls.

And at the center of it all rested Appa.

The massive creature lay carefully across the bedding with his injured leg wrapped thoroughly in fresh bandages, layers upon layers of pale cloth securing the wound beneath.

The moment Aang saw him, everything else disappeared.

"Appa!"

He rushed forward immediately before anyone could properly react, throwing himself against the sky bison's enormous head with enough force that several attendants flinched briefly nearby.

Appa answered at once.

A deep groan rumbled through the room while the bison nudged himself weakly against Aang despite his injuries, chuffing loudly in clear relief at finally seeing him again.

For one brief moment, Aang nearly broke apart entirely.

You noticed it.

His tears.

Quietly, you turned away, granting him the dignity of pretending not to have seen it.

While Aang remained occupied with Appa, you approached the caretakers gathered nearby and began quietly questioning them regarding his condition. The physician presently overseeing Appa's treatment quickly updated you on the most recent changes while attendants continued preparing fresh medicine beside them.

A few moments later, once Aang had finally managed to compose himself somewhat, the physician carefully approached him instead.

"Avatar Aang, If I may speak with you regarding your companion's recovery." The older man greeted respectfully.

Aang reluctantly loosened his hold on Appa, stepping away from him to converse with the physician.

Meanwhile, you drifted closer toward Appa yourself.

The sky bison immediately lowered his head toward you the moment you approached, large brown eyes brightening in recognition.

A faint smile touched your face.

"So your name is Appa." You murmured while gently patting the fur along his head. 

"You truly are adorable."

Appa answered with another pleased chuff before nudging himself against your hand hard enough to wrinkle your long sleeves.

A soft laugh escaped you.

"And there it is again, that dreadful noise you make whenever someone pets you." You said lightly

Appa groaned louder in response and you laughed quietly this time.

"There now. You are terribly spoiled already." You soothed while continuing to stroke his fur.

Several feet away, Aang found himself distracted despite the physician actively explaining Appa's condition beside him.

From what it appeared, Appa had already decided he adored you.

"It will require at least three months before he may safely place proper weight upon the leg. Flying afterward shall depend entirely upon how well the muscles recover during rehabilitation."  The physician continued carefully.

That finally pulled Aang's attention back properly.

"...Three months." He repeated with concern.

"I am afraid so."

Aang nodded slowly.

"I understand."

Once the explanation had concluded, he immediately returned toward Appa again, though this time his attention lingered upon you as well.

"Your father informed me you've been helping take care of him. Thank you for that." He said sincerely, hand moving against Appa's fur.

You glanced toward him before shaking your head lightly.

"My father exaggerates greatly, I simply come here each evening and do this." 

Your hand resumed stroking Appa's head again in demonstration.

Almost immediately, Appa let out another delighted groan while pressing closer into your touch.

Aang stared openly as you only smiled at the bison.

"And then he makes that ridiculous sound," You continued with clear amusement threading through your voice. 

"And then I leave."

Aang could not help smiling slightly at that.

"He really likes you."

"So it would seem."

"Seriously," he added more quietly, sincerity fully evident now. 

"Thank you for keeping him company while I couldn't."

"There is no need to thank me so deeply." You replied softly before finally stepping away from Appa's side.

For a brief moment, you disappeared behind the enormous stretch of the sky bison's body entirely before returning once more with something carefully balanced within your hands.

The moment Aang recognized it, his entire expression changed.

"My staff!"

You held it out toward him gently.

"It appears this object offered Appa far greater comfort than I ever could." You admitted. 

"He became noticeably calmer whenever it was placed near him."

Aang accepted the staff immediately, fingers tightening around the familiar wood with visible relief.

"Oh, Appa..." He murmured before leaning forward once more to wrap his arms around the sky bison's head again.

Appa answered with another low rumble while nudging closer into both Aang and the glider together.

For several moments, you simply allowed the reunion to continue uninterrupted. Eventually, however, practicality returned to the conversation.

"So..." you began calmly, "what do you intend to do now, Avatar Aang?"

He looked toward you.

"You may trust us to continue caring for Appa properly. You are free to visit him whenever you wish, and once he has fully recovered, you may depart together." You explained.

Aang blinked.

"Leave Appa here?"

"Yes." You inclined your head lightly. 

"Though personally, I believe you still require additional rest yourself. However, once your strength has returned fully, I imagine your duties elsewhere shall demand your attention again."

At that, something dimmed faintly within him.

"Right. Yeah... I'll probably have to leave eventually..." He answered quieter this time.

Then suddenly, his expression shifted again.

"Momo!"

The name burst from him so abruptly that even Appa let out a startled noise.

Aang immediately turned back toward the sky bison.

"Appa, do you know where Momo went?"

Appa huffed softly in response, sounding almost apologetic.

Your brows furrowed slightly.

"I apologize," you interrupted gently. "Momo is...?"

"He's a lemur. My other companion. He was with us during the storm, but nobody's seen him since."  Aang explained quickly

Understanding settled across your features then.

"Right. The lemur. I did hear my father sent out a search for it, but it proved to be fruitless. Although, I believe he likely remains somewhere within the forests surrounding the crash site."

"Oh...they didn't find him..." Aang repeated, worry heavy within his voice. 

"Momo's tough, but..." He glanced downward briefly while gripping the staff tighter within his hands. 

"I can't just leave without knowing he is safe."

The room quieted save for the distant shifting of attendants continuing their work nearby.

You studied him silently for a moment.

For all the titles attached to him, for all the stories surrounding the Avatar, he looked painfully young standing there worrying over two injured companions with absolute solemnity written across his face.

Then, before truly thinking much of it, you spoke.

"I would be more than happy to assist you in searching for him."

chapter eight coming soon...

a/n: i think this might be my favorite chapter after chapter 4 (ꈍᴗꈍ)♡

also, i’ve noticed some of you have figured out that i only reply to comments on the day i post a new chapter and it makes me laugh every time someone catches on!

BUT YES, there is a reason for it. i wait until posting day so i can reply to everyone at once and not accidentally miss people asking to be added to the taglist.

[taglist open] (please mention under the latest chapter or the story masterlist)

masterlist

His head snapped up. Red eyes, glossy and furious, met yours. Tear tracks cut through the ash and sweat still smudged on his cheeks. He looked like he’d come straight from the battlefield and hadn’t left your side.

“The fuck are you doing awake?” he growled, voice thick. He swiped roughly at his face with the back of his hand, smearing the evidence. “Go back to sleep.”

You ignored that and pushed yourself up a little higher against the pillows, wincing as your ribs protested. “Come here.”

“I’m fine,” he snapped, but the way his voice cracked betrayed him. He stayed rooted in the chair, jaw clenched so tight you thought it might break.

You stared at him steadily. “Katsuki. Get over here.”

After a long second, he shoved the chair back with a harsh scrape and moved to sit on the edge of your bed. He wouldn’t look at you directly. His hands flexed like he wanted to explode something.

You reached out and took one of his wrists, tugging until he faced you better. “Talk to me.”

He laughed, bitter and low. “Talk? What the hell is there to say?” Fresh tears slipped down despite how hard he tried to hold them back. His voice rose, angry and raw. “You’re lying in this fucking bed looking like you went through a meat grinder. Cracked ribs, second-degree burns, fucked up shoulder. The doctors said you took the worst of it out of everyone in 1-A. And for what?”

His free hand clenched into a fist on his thigh. “It should’ve been me. I’m supposed to be the strongest. I should’ve been faster, should’ve blown those bastards to hell before they got close to you. Instead you—” His voice broke completely. He looked away, ashamed of the tears but unable to stop them. “You jumped in like a damn idiot and now you’re the one paying for it.”

You let him get it out, thumb stroking slowly over the inside of his wrist. When he finally quieted, breathing hard, you spoke.

“You’re right. I did jump in.” Your tone was calm but firm. “Because I saw an opening and I took it. Just like you would have.”

His eyes snapped back to you, furious. “That’s not the fucking point—”

“It is the point.” You squeezed his wrist. “You don’t get to sit here and cry angry tears because I did what any of us would do for each other. Especially not you. You’ve thrown yourself into worse for me and the class a dozen times. You think I’m just gonna stand there and watch you get hurt when I can do something about it?”

He opened his mouth, but you kept going, voice steady and low.

“I’m not sorry. And I’m not gonna let you beat yourself up over this like it’s your personal failure. We’re a team, Katsuki. You’re my boyfriend, not my shield. I love you, but I’m not some fragile extra who needs you to take every hit for me.”

Katsuki’s shoulders slumped. More tears slipped free. He didn’t bother wiping them this time. “I know that,” he muttered. “Doesn’t stop me from wanting to blow up the entire universe for putting you here.”

You tugged him closer until he finally gave in and carefully laid down beside you, careful not to jostle your injuries. His head ended up on the uninjured side of your chest, one arm draped loosely over your waist. You threaded your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp the way you knew helped him unwind.

“I hate this,” he said quietly, voice muffled against you. “Hate seeing you hurt. Hate that it wasn’t me instead.”

“I know.” You pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “But I’m still here. Still breathing. Still gonna give you shit when you’re being a stubborn ass in training next week. The villains didn’t win. We’re both still standing. Mostly.”

He let out a wet snort. “You’re such a smartass even half-broken.”

“Someone has to keep your ego in check.” You continued running your fingers through his hair, slow and soothing. “You don’t have to be the Symbol of Peace, Katsuki. You just have to be you. And I chose you. Scars, explosions, angry crying, and all.”

He stiffened at the reminder. “I wasn’t— Shut up. I don’t cry.”

“You do when it matters.” You tugged his hair lightly, just enough to make him look up at you. His eyes were still red-rimmed and raw. “And it’s okay. I’m not gonna tell anyone. Your secret’s safe with me.”

Katsuki held your gaze for a long moment. Then he leaned up and kissed you—slow, careful, and surprisingly gentle. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.

“Don’t do that shit again,” he whispered. “Don’t make me sit here thinking I almost lost you.”

“I can’t promise that,” you said honestly. “But I can promise I’ll always fight like hell to come back to you.”

He exhaled shakily and buried his face in your neck again. You held him there, one hand in his hair, the other rubbing slow circles between his shoulder blades. His breathing gradually evened out, the tension draining from his body bit by bit.

“You’re really not mad I took the worst of it?” you asked after a while.

“Mad at the villains. Mad at myself for not being faster.” He paused. “Not mad at you. Just… fucking terrified.”

The admission was so quiet you almost missed it. You tightened your hold on him.

“I was scared too,” you admitted. “But I’d do it again if it meant keeping you and the others safe. That’s what loving you means to me.”

Katsuki didn’t reply with words. He just pressed closer, careful of your injuries, and let you keep running your fingers through his hair until his breathing slowed into something closer to sleep.

You stayed awake a little longer, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against you. The pain in your body was still there, but having him here—raw and real and trusting you with this side of him—made it easier to bear.

Tomorrow he’d probably wake up grumpy and deny he’d cried at all. You’d tease him about it. He’d call you an idiot and threaten to blow up your hospital food.

You smiled faintly in the dark.

You wouldn’t have him any other way.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

A/N: I love this idea, and my heart genuinely aches when I think or season 8 bakugo. like that's my baby...he genuinely evolved into such a complex character, don't even get me STARTED on season 8 bkdk. Idc if I'm fucking 60, they will always be in my heart.

comments and likes are always appreciated!!