IN THE JUMBLE

Busted. But instead of turning his smile into a scowl, Kavik just shakes his head at the Avatar, crossing his arms and leaning his back against the wall.

“Why do you never show me any tricks when I ask?” he calls, earning an eye roll from the airbender.

“Because as childish as you may seem, you’re not in fact a child,” she retorts and he lets out a chuckle. Annoying the foremost authority on all spiritual matters might not win him any points in the long-run, but boy, was it fun.

One of the children tugs at Yangchen’s robe and whispers something in her ear. Kavik can’t hear what he said, but by the mischievous glint that appears in Yangchen’s eyes, it can’t be anything good.

She looks around for a moment, and then grins when she finds what she’s looking for. Kavik follows her gaze, and all he sees is a bowl? What could she possibly be—

His fingers twitch, his body’s intuition faster than his mind’s somehow, and catches the frozen sphere in midair with his bending, about three inches away from slamming into his face.

His bewildered expression has the children erupting in giggles and Yangchen herself is almost doubling over from how hard she’s laughing.

“You could’ve nailed me in the face!” Kavik screeches in disbelief. The ice sphere is still handing suspended in the air, with Kavik maintaining its position with one hand; the other he’s flailing around in anger.

“Then you should really work on those reflexes,” Yangchen responds, not even trying to hide how much this sight delights her.

“What are you teaching these poor, impressionable children?” He chides.

“That the Avatar’s companion makes a very funny face when he’s scared,” she teases.

He tries to scowl but it ends up looking more like a pout, inciting another round of giggles from the children. Yangchen makes her way towards him, stopping when they’re still a few feet apart.

“Kavik, you’re an immensely talented waterbender. I know you would’ve been fine.”

At the sudden compliment, Kavik feels the tips of his ears growing hot and thinks about using the sphere of ice in his possession to cool them down. Though, with the way Yangchen is motioning towards said sphere with her chin, it seems like she wants him to do something else.

So he decides to showcase some techniques he’s been practicing. 

Kavik had been amazed in his youth when traveling to Agna Qel’a for the New Moon Celebration, watching waterbenders put on shows, manipulating water in ways he had never thought possible. He’d always come home and practice relentlessly to mimic their acts, to no avail. His parents would chuckle at his attempts and Kalyaan would somehow manage to pull off the technique with no difficulty at all. Rather than being jealous, though, young Kavik who idolized his brother above all else, would just pester him to perform the trick over and over again.

After moving to Bin-Er, and Kalyaan’s subsequent disappearance, Kavik interest in his hobby waned. The city and his situation didn’t seem like the right place for whimsy. But, since joining Yangchen’s team, Kavik has a renewed vigor for life. The pessimism he donned as a cloak to protect him from disappointment had finally been shed. Traveling from town to town, visiting every village in between and seeing the way Yangchen changes people lives by just being herself, well it gave Kavik a refreshed interest in the world.

He’d been practicing these skills in the dead of night, under the gleam of moonlight after everyone had fallen asleep. And he’d gotten quite good, not that he’d shown any of his teammates. These were party tricks, crowd-pleasers really, not the kind of thing that’d be useful in a combat situation.

But here was a crowd, his ideal medium twirling in the air, with a girl looking at him like she knew exactly what he was capable of. 

Kavik was a humble guy, but even he loved an opportunity to show off. 

He shifts the frozen sphere from above his palm to between both his hands. Then he squeezes his hands together with the sphere seemingly disappearing within his grasp. He turns his hands into fists, and as he spreads them apart, the ice has turned to water, forming a baton.

That gets a scattering of oohs from the kids in the clinic, with an impressed nod form Yangchen to boot. But, he’s not finished yet.

His hands curve downward, meeting in the middle like the way one offers a prayer. The water morphs from a straight line to a curve, similar to that of a rainbow. Then he raises his left index finger, spinning it in a circle, and the arch of water turns into a spiral. 

The kids are more amazed, and Kavik decides he can consider a career as a roadside magician if this Avatar companion gig doesn’t work out.

With a flourish of his right hand, he turns the spiral back into an arch and, with an understated swish from his left hand, the arch starts traveling, mimicking the path of a rock skipping across the surface of a lake (one skill where Kavik had always surpassed his brother). As the water arches up, it lands about an inch above a child’s head, arching up again and doing the same to all the kids in the room. 

The kids go nuts for it, some of them reaching their hands up to grab the water so Kavik has to do some exaggerated maneuvers to keep it out of their grasp. The water hopping along, an idea pops into mind as he looks at Yangchen out of the corner of his eye. 

When he finally directs the water over Yangchen’s head, he spins his finger around to turn the arch into a circle. Using his other hand he morphs the circle into a sphere, positioned directly above the Avatar’s head. With a flourish, he drops the liquid sphere, awaiting the splash and impending outrage.

But, to his surprise, the sphere comes barreling toward him and the water splashes all over his face. 

Kavik should’ve known better than to challenge Air Nomad on their reflexes. A people group known for their quick-thinking, Yangchen probably knew exactly what he was plotting the moment the water entered her vicinity. 

With the children all giggling in the infirmary, as Kavik wipes the water from his face, he can’t help but chuckle as well. He wipes his hands on his clothes and then runs his fingers through his hair to use up the remaining moisture. He’s hyper-aware of the way Yangchen’s eyes are fixed on his hand and this motion, but he reasons it’s so she can protect herself from more surprise attacks. The other reasons that are swirling around his mind, well, he’ll save those for his dreams.

“Trying to pull a fast one on the Avatar,” she tuts, a smile playing on her lips.

“Yeah, I should’ve known better,” he agrees, rubbing his neck with one hand. 

“You should’ve. But considering you had the gall to try and lie to me the first time we met, I’m not all that surprised.”

He winces at the memory. “At least now I know to always look up when trying to do any sort of espionage.”

“That’s the lesson you took away from that?” Her eyebrows are raised, her expression incredulous. “Are all youngest children this impetuous? I’m almost certain your parents didn’t discipline you nearly enough.”

Quite accurate, he must admit. Yangchen had a weird knack for guessing things correctly on the first try; that’s why she was banned from playing charades with the team. If he was being honest, Kavik could’ve gotten away with even more mischief in his youth, since his parents were quite forgiving. Though Kalyaan had attempted to serve as a disciplinary figure during Kavik’s numerous antics, collectively, his family all had a soft spot for him. Any punishment they gave him didn’t last for long. Perks of being the youngest in the family, he supposed. 

Wait a minute—

“Aren’t you also a youngest child?!” Kavik’s tone is accusatory, and it’s now his turn to look incredulous. The sheepish grin that Yangchen does a terrible job of hiding gives her away. Busted.

“Well if it isn’t the pot calling the kettle black,” Kavik teases. “Honestly, I expected more from you.”

At that, Yangchen does an exaggerated eye roll and gives Kavik a playful shove. 

“Let me guess, the nuns let you get away with all your pranks because you’re the Avatar.”

“What pranks?” Yangchen responds, her tone higher, clearly fibbing.

“I can pen Boma a letter right now. Better yet, take me on another trip to the Spirit World and I’ll ask Jetsun myself.”

“Fine. Then I’ll just pay Kalyaan a visit and get him to reveal all your dirty little secrets.”

“You wouldn’t.”

Yangchen’s eyes are twinkling with a mischief Kavik knows been present her whole childhood. 

“Try me.”

The space between them is sizzling like the aftermath of a lightning strike. It’s exhilarating, the way they’re maintaining eye contact, each refusing to be the first to look away. Kavik feels a heat blooming in his chest, and thinks about stepping forward, leaning down and placing his lips—

“ ‘Scuse me?”

A squeaky voice and a tug on his tunic are ultimately what break their concentration. Kavik looks down and sees a little girl with wide eyes and a grin that’s missing a few baby teeth.

“Can you play?” she asks, and yeah, he has to admit it pulls on his heartstrings, just a bit.

“He would love to play,” Yangchen responds with enthusiasm before Kavik can answer. He sends a glare to the Avatar, but is soon led to the other side of the room, a tiny hand still clutching into his tunic, until he’s standing in front of two more children. 

“This is Feli,” the girl points her other tiny hand at another girl with her hair split into two braids and bangs covering her forehead.

“This is Bulo,” now pointing at a boy with a mop of curls and light-brown eyes.

“And I’m Oka!” She finishes, pointing proudly at herself. One hand still grasping Kavik’s tunic, Oka’s straight hair has been done up in a ponytail, with green ribbon wrapped around it in a bow.

“Uh, hi?” Kavik says, voice unsure. “I’m Kavik.”

“Can you show us some more tricks, Sifu Kavik?” Feli asks, her eyes shining with excitement.

Kavik’s never been a teacher, let alone referred to as a ‘sifu,’ so hearing that title sends a jolt to his heart. Being considered talented enough to be a Sifu, even if it was just a bunch of kids bequeathing him the title, well, it’s enough to tinge Kavik’s ears pink.

Spirits, he was pathetic.

“Sure,” he agrees. There’s a pitcher of water to his left, so, with a flick of his wrist, he bends the water out and coats his fingers. He makes thin streams of water spread out from his fingertips, resembling tentacles. That alone draws some oohs from the trio, surprising Kavik since, even at his grown age, think it looks a bit creepy. Though, in fairness, he had never been a fan of cephalopods.

While Kavik starts bending more water and turning the digits on his other hand into tentacle-fingers, the children chatter amongst themselves.

“Waterbending is so cool!” Bulo cheers.

“Yeah, way better than boring earthbending,” Oka adds.

Now that grabs his attention. Although he himself was no stranger to bouts of self-deprecation, seeing that trait in these young children was saddening. Though, he couldn’t be certain any of them were earthbenders, there was bound to be one in the vicinity that would feel dejected if they overheard.

“Hey, it can’t be that bad,” Kavik reasons, wiggling his fingers so the water flows back into the pitcher. He figured the tentacle fingers would be a tad distracting while they talked.

“It is though!” Bulo insists.

“You can make ice and snow—you can make snow right?” Oka asks. Technically yes, though with the current heat and lack of moisture in the air, it would be a bit difficult to lower water to the correct temperature and achieve the right texture. But that’s a lot to explain, and he’s pretty sure most children don’t have extended attention spans, so he just nods.

“All we have are boring rocks,” Feli pouts, crossing her arms in an adorable way.

“I mean, rocks are pretty rocking, right?” Kavik attempts to make a joke. With the way the trio groans and rolls their eyes, he’s decides it didn’t quite land (more earthbending puns for him, then). Alright, time to switch gears.

“Well, earthbenders can manipulate mud, right? That’s pretty fun.” Growing up in a frozen tundra, permafrost was his only frame of reference for what soil should be like. Seeing actual dirt for the first time in his life was pretty neat, though he wouldn’t describe the experience of seeing mud as fun. The kids’ dubious expression mirror what he’s thinking. Okay, third time’s the charm, right?

“You just gotta be a bit more creative with your thinking.” Bending some water back out of the pitcher, he creates a frozen sphere like he did earlier. The kids perk up at that sight, which boosts his confidence a bit. Flipping the sphere from his palm to the back of his hand, he rolls it up his arm, over his shoulders and down to his other hand, spinning it on the tips of his fingers as a finishing move. The kids ooh and ah, and as Kavik keeps the sphere spinning, he figures out what he wants to say.

“For example,” he throws the sphere up in the air before catching it in his hand. “If you ever wanted to hide something, which I know you would never do because you’re all honest, well-behaved children—” he pauses, his words and serious expression bringing about a litany of giggles from the trio.

“Well, all you’d need to do is open a crack in the ground, and no one would ever be able to find it.”

“Ooh, he’s right!” Bulo declares, as the girls nod in agreement. One point for Kavik.

“Plus, take a look out the window,” Kavik points out. “You ever think about how few ponds and lakes there are out there? Earth though, that’s literally everywhere.”

“Good point!” Oka grins as she nods.

“Plus, you can probably move small objects quite well. Even if they are just boring rocks.”

Feli pokes her cheek with a finger, an adorably serious expression on her face as she takes in his words.

“Though, I have to ask, are any of you earthbenders?”

“Feli is!” Bulo and Oka say in unison, pointing at the young girl. Feli seems to not be a fan of attention, as she attempts to cover up her face with her two braids as the tips of her ears turn pink. 

“Ah, well there’s no need to be shy.” Kavik’s tone is gentle, and he searches the room for an item. He sees a small rock, smaller than his hand on a table not too far away. He transforms the frozen sphere into a water whip, latching onto the rock to bring it towards him. He turns the whip into a sphere, still liquid as it floats above his palm. He kneels in front of Feli, who has stopped trying to cover her face with her braids, though she is running her hands through one of them nervously.

“Take this,” he says. Feli looks unsure, but complies, taking the rock from Kavik’s hand. It’s about the size of her palm, and she immediately starts rolling it around her hand. Quite similar to the way that Kavik manipulates the water in his palm, in fact. For them, bending is instinctual, and they find refuge in their element of choice. 

“Now try to copy my movements.” 

In all honesty, Kavik’s not sure this is going to work. Earth and water are two different mediums, and while not complete opposites, they certainly don’t behave in the same way. But he doesn’t like the idea of these kids thinking their native element is less valuable than the others. They might not all be earthbenders, but they all live in the Earth Kingdom, and that’s nothing to be ashamed of. Now if they were Fire Nation kids, he might understand. (Kidding, of course.)

Elbows out, arms up, Kavik starts volleying the sphere of water between his hands as his arms move side to side. He motions to Feli with his chin to do the same. She hesitates for a second, but soon copies, the rock floating as her arms move. The smallest flicker of a smile flashes across her face, and Kavik thinks it might be working. 

Next, he freezes the sphere, and, after clenching his hands both into fists, he bounces the sphere between his hands as it barely brushes his knuckles. Feli follows without much difficulty, and Kavik feels a surge of pride. If only Yangchen hadn’t been a fully realized Avatar by the time they had met; Kavik thinks he would’ve enjoyed teaching her a few things.

Kavik pauses to look at Feli, who seems to be enjoying herself. She’s grinning, there’s a twinkle in her eyes, and Bulo and Oka are cheering her on. He melts the ice in his hands and returns it to the pitcher.

“See, earthbending isn’t half bad,” Kavik states. 

“I guess it is pretty cool,” Feli admits, the rock now levitating in her palm.

“Got any other tricks up your sleeve?” Kavik asks. If she’s anything like he was as a kid, she’s been waiting for a chance to show off.

“Well, there’s one I’ve been working on,” she responds shyly.

“And you haven’t shown us yet?” Bulo questions.

“Come on, Feli!” Oka adds.

Weren’t these two just complaining about how boring earthbending is? Though, Kavik had admitted from the start that he doesn’t really ‘get’ kids. Flip-flopping opinions like this is probably normal. It’s not totally uncommon among adults, even.

“Okay, okay,” Feli relents. Passing the rock between her hands, she bites her lip as she thinks. Eventually, she puts the rock down next to the  pitcher, and takes a deep breath. Lifting her hands up and then making a pushing motion, she creates several rectangular columns from the ground beneath her feet. Coming up to about her ankles, they look a bit like dominoes.

“That’s so cool!” Bola and Oka say in unison, and, honestly, Kavik has to agree. He wonders if it could serve any use in a tactical situation. Maybe he’ll discuss this with Yangchen later tonight.

“Again, again!” Oka insists. Feli, for her part, can’t seem to stop smiling from all the cheers, her cheeks tinged a pretty pink. Dissolving the columns she just made, she repeats the motion, this time making them a bit larger, now coming up to her shins. 

“Again!” Bulo requests, and she complies. These new columns are now about knee-level.  As her friends keep cheering, she keeps dispersing and rebuilding these columns, walking closer to the other side of the room. All the other kids are caught up with their own chatter or playing games of their own, so they pay Kavik’s trio no mind. You’d never be able to guess all these kids have suffered injuries and illness from looking at them; with their bright smiles, eyes filled with wonder, and constant giggling, they seem like regular children. Not that Kavik would ever admit this to her (he has a zero tolerance policy of ever telling Yangchen she’s right, for obvious reasons), but he’s a little happy she insisted on him joining her. If these kids were the future of the world, well, things might just turn out alright.

His eyes steady on Feli, Kavik can’t help but notice the Avatar in question out of the corner of his eye. Yangchen’s back is to him, and she’s talking to one of the kids about something. Yangchen’s laughing, totally unaware of the incredible motivation he imparted onto the youth. Typical Yangchen. So focused on helping others that she fails to notice the feats of the most talented person on her team. 

Though, as Kavik continues watching Feli, her columns continuing to grow, he sees they’re towering over her, hindering her sight. She’s dissolving and rebuilding them at such a rate that he’s afraid she’s going to lose control. And Yangchen’s back is still to him. He bends the water from the pitcher into a whip, and plans to just grab Yangchen with it. Although, this isn’t nearly enough water to carry her body weight. If he yells now, he’ll just spook them both, and there’s no telling what Feli’s bending will become then. His fingers are twitching as indecision grips him, until he finally decides to try his luck with the water whip. But, it’s too late. 

Feli might be talented, but she’s still just a kid. The columns have gotten too large for her to control, and they start toppling over just like dominoes. Yangchen’s ears perk up at the sound, and she reacts immediately. Pushing the child near her out of harm’s way, she rushes backward, clamoring into a table as the medical instruments topple to the ground. With one hand, she creates a large cylinder shooting up from the ground into the ceiling. It’s enough to stop the oversized dominoes from falling, and, after taking a deep breath, she uses both hands to dissolve everything back into the ground. 

Once the dust has settled, Kavik rushes over. Feli is sobbing as she apologizes relentlessly, with Yangchen reassuring her while also trying to make sure everyone is okay. But something about her expression is off. 

“No one’s hurt?” Kavik says once he’s next to Yangchen, his eyes skimming over the young faces for any signs of pain.

“They all seem to be good,” Yangchen agrees.

“I’m so sorry!” Feli pleads, the tears seeming endless.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Kavik coos. “We all get carried away and make mistakes sometimes.”

“No one got hurt, and that’s what’s important. This is a lesson to be more careful next time, okay?”

Feli’s eyes are still watery, but she’s wiped away most of the tears. She gives a small nod, and Kavik ruffles her bangs. Turning back to Yangchen, he notices her complexion has changed slightly. She looks a little…grey?

“Are you alright?” Kavik asks, his voice wary. She grips his arm, and he notices her strength has lessened.

“About that,” Yangchen responds, pulling her other hand out of the fabric of her sleeve. There’s a gash running across her palm, with crimson blood dripping down her arm.

“What the fuck?” Kavik says, in a low enough whisper not to spook the children. They’ve both angled their bodies so they’re the only two who can see the what’s occurred.

“I cut it open on a scalpel,” Yangchen explains, her voice sounding weaker than usual. Kavik glances at the table, and sure enough there’s a bloody scalpel laying precisely where Yangchen had rammed into. 

“We need to go find the doctor,” Kavik orders, his eyes trained on the wound.

“I can try to heal it myself,” Yangchen insists. “I’ll be fine.”

He looks up at her bewildered.

“You’re bleeding,” he enunciates. “You’re wincing, which you never do, and this cut looks pretty deep. You need to see the doctor.”

“Aw you have compassion.” The smile she attempts to plaster on is interrupted by another wince, inciting more concern from Kavik

“And you have terrible comedic timing. Come on.”

───  ⋅ ⋅ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

Kavik was not good with doctors. 

Or really, medicine in general. Oddly enough, the sight of blood these days wasn’t too debilitating for him, which would be worrying if he was in any other line of work. But injuries were just part of the job when one worked for the Avatar. He’d gotten used to seeing cuts and scrapes, he could even stand to look at gashes and dripping blood. But medical instruments were the issue.

He knew it was stupid, but Kavik always got a shiver whenever he saw syringes or needles being used on people. Thankfully, the hospital trips him and Yangchen went on usually involved him bending water around patients while she healed them. Though, there had been moments when he’d seen people getting shots or being stitched up, and he had to quickly avert his eyes before his last meal made a reappearance. 

Now, though, he had no out. He just had to grin and bare it, for Yangchen’s sake if nothing else. He was doing his best to steel his stomach, looking up at the ceiling of the small examination room, while Yangchen took deep breaths. Kavik had hastily wrapped some clean gauze around the wound, but as he stole a glance at her hand, crimson blood was seeping through the white fabric.

“Sorry about the delay!” A smooth voice grabs both the benders’ attention. “I was out doing a home visit.”

Kavik and Yangchen share a look before glancing back at the newcomer.

This couldn’t possibly be the doctor, right?

“I was looking forward to meeting the Avatar today, after my rounds,” he says, removing a lightweight coat to reveal tanned, toned arms. He’s more muscular than any doctor Kavik’s ever seen. Most doctors he’s met seem more akin to bookworms, ready to stitch up a wound but woefully ill-equipped for hand-to-hand combat. This guy, though, looks like he would excel at both.

But that’s not why both Yangchen and Kavik were shocked when he entered. Nor are his chiseled features, viridescent eyes and perfectly-messy hair the reason either. 

This ‘doctor,’ if he’s even qualified to be called that, is impossibly young. He looks to be around Yangchen & Kavik’s age, if not barely older. Doctors, at least in Kavik’s experience, are usually at least in their thirties, usually sporting short, clean-cut hairstyles, with mustaches and/or beards to match. This guy barely looks old enough to shave!

As if reading his thoughts, or perhaps sharing a private mental link with her dear friend, Yangchen speaks first.

“It’s an honor to meet you, Doctor…?”

“Oh,” the young ‘doctor’ brings a stool closer to the Avatar and sits down. “Please just call me Shun.”

“Shun,” Yangchen complies, smiling softly. “How old are you?”

“Nineteen years young,” he responds, carefully unwrapping the gauze from her hand. “I was born in the Year of Yangchen,” he adds, grinning at her.

Ugh, flattery. Kavik fails at resisting the desire to roll his eyes.

“There’s no need to call it that,” Yangchen responds, voice gentle. “My birth that year was no more important than anyone else’s. We could even call it the Year of Kavik, for that matter.”

Hearing his name from her lips perks him right up, like a baby polar bear dog. Kavik couldn’t be more smitten if he tried. How embarrassing.

“It looks like we’re all the same age then,” Shun says as he peels off the last bit of the bloodstained gauze before throwing it in the trash. “No need for formalities then. Let’s speak casually.”

Kavik holds back the eye roll this time and instead gives a short nod, though Shun isn’t looking at him. The doctor in question is holding the Avatar’s wrist and examining the wound closely. His lips are fixed in a straight line, his eyes focused, the room falling silent.

“It’s not terribly deep, but it will require stitches,” he finally says. Kavik lets out a sigh of relief, feeling as though a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. He’s no doctor, of course, but he’d assumed it wasn’t life-threatening from his rudimentary first-aid knowledge. Having that belief confirmed is reassuring. If Yangchen was gravely injured while Kavik was accompanying her, not only would Kavik feel relentless guilt, he’d certainly face the gauntlet of consequences from Akkudan, Tayagum, and Jujinta. 

“I told you I’d be fine,” Yangchen mentions, craning her neck back to look at the waterbender. 

“And I said you should see a doctor. We were both right, so let’s call this one a draw,” Kavik retorts.

Yangchen shakes her head at him, playfully rolling her eyes. Suddenly, she winces and Kavik all but jumps into action.

“Sorry, this tends to sting,” Shun apologizes, pausing to give her a break.

“What is that stuff?” Kavik questions, guard up.

“Antiseptic,” Shun responds, resuming with precision, “this is needed to disinfect the wound. It doesn’t produce the most pleasant feeling, though.” 

“I’ve been through worse,” Yangchen assures him, though her expression, to Kavik at least, says the opposite.

“I’m sure you have.” Shun’s original smooth tone returns, and he flashes a grin at Yangchen. Kavik feels a tightness in his chest that he tries to ignore.

“I heard all about your exploits in the shang cities, how you’ve now taken the reins over all of them. Quite a phenomenal feat, if I might be so bold to say.”

Really laying the praise on there thick, aren’t you, Kavik grumbles mentally. Yangchen, though, seems to not be perturbed in the slightest.

“I appreciate your kindness,” she responds as Shun adds a final dab of antiseptic.

“Anytime,” Shun responds, his teeth glittering. The bleeding has stopped, and Kavik is thankful for that, but man did he hate overly capable pretty boys. Despite his undeniably good intentions, Shun was getting on Kavik’s last nerve.

“How did you become a doctor at such a young age?” Yangchen asks. Shun, who had gotten up to fetch some more materials, lets out a short laugh as his bangs brush over his eyebrows. 

“It’s quite a boring story. You sure you want to hear it?”

No, Kavik thinks.

“Absolutely,” Yangchen answers.

Shun brings a tray with some thread, a curved needle that looks better suited for embroidery than medicine, and a tool that looks like a pair of scissors with pliers on the end instead of blades. 

“How about this? Stitching you up won’t take that long, but it won’t be that quick either. I’ll tell you my terribly boring life story in lieu of painkillers to dull the pain.”

Kavik opens his mouth to object and really lay into this guy about how stupid of an idea this is, when Yangchen’s lively laugh rings out through the small room. She sounds so much like herself, as if the vitality has been zapped back into her, that it causes Kavik to pause, and for his heart to swell despite himself.

“That sounds like a great idea! You can tell me what podunk institution was foolish enough to grant you a license, and in exchange, I won’t tell anyone about the medical malpractice you were considering putting me through.”

Yangchen’s dry humor is certainly an acquired taste, but it’s one of Kavik’s favorite traits of hers. Although it usually takes longer for her to drop her guard around newcomers, perhaps it due to them being the same age that Yangchen feels comfortable enough to be so blunt. Kavik narrows his eyes at the doctor, studying his body language to see how he’ll respond.

Smiling brightly as if Yangchen hadn’t just lobbied a thinly-veiled insult in his direction, Shun opens his mouth to speak.

“You know I had heard tales of the Avatar’s beauty, but these stories failed to mention your biting humor.”

It’s too flirtatious for Kavik’s liking, but he sees the way Yangchen’s shoulders droop as her body beings to relax. She’s not fully letting her guard down, but still loosening up a bit to create a friendly atmosphere. Well, for them at least. Kavik doesn’t trust this pretty boy physician as far as he can throw him. 

“I guess there are some things you just have to experience for yourself,” Yangchen offers.

“I suppose so,” Shun responds, expression pensive. 

This guy was bright, both in personality and intelligence, and that rubbed Kavik the wrong way. He remembered absolutely hating going to see the doctor in his village, a man in his fifties who’s breath always smelled like fish. He was brusque, rarely cracked a smile and never tried to make conversation. When Kavik had, unfortunately, gotten a fishing hook caught in his lip in a freak accident, Kalyaan had rushed him to the doctor, nearly pummeling into the snowbank as he carried Kavik in his arms. Kavik was crying, practically inconsolable despite his older brother’s efforts. The doctor had told Kavik to quit blubbering in a harsh tone, and then yanked the hook out, sans painkillers or anything to numb the area.

If Kavik was inconsolable before, he was downright bawling by the time the hook had been removed. Through his tears, he remembered seeing Kalyaan with an absolutely murderous look in his eyes, practically shaking from rage. He’s sure that if Kavik wasn’t in need of solace in that moment, his older brother would’ve killed the doctor right then and there.

After that day, their family stuck to seeing their local healers for any medical concerns. Kavik always felt a rush of panic whenever he ran into the doctor after that; and he’s sure that, even to this day, Kalyaan’s never forgiven the physician.

Perhaps that’s what sparked Kavik’s aversion to medical procedures. Having a sharp object wrenched from your mouth in such a painful way at such a young age is enough to inflict trauma on anyone. Yet, as Kavik watches the careful way Shun has treated Yangchen until now, the charisma he makes no effort to hide, Kavik feels a sense of jealousy? For his younger self, at least. If Kavik had a doctor like this, one that was kind and gentle, someone personable who enjoyed cracking jokes, maybe Kavik wouldn’t be so frightened by the tools on his tray. Maybe Kavik wouldn’t wait until the absolute last-minute before informing his teammates about an injury he had sustained. 

Maybe, in another life, Kavik would’ve enjoyed becoming a doctor himself. 

“I’ll numb the area, and you can take these for the pain,” Shun places a small bowl with three caplets on the tray. Yangchen grabs all three and swallows them without difficulty.

“You’ll still feel a bit of pressure, but it shouldn’t be too bad,” Shun assures. “Though, you could always squeeze your companion’s hand for some comfort.”

In all honesty, Yangchen would probably end up crushing Kavik’s hand, leaving him in a worse state than her; still, he would wholeheartedly volunteer despite that possibility. He starts to lift his back off from the wall to offer, if that is her wish, when she responds.

“I’ll take the medicine. No one else should have to suffer for my transgression.”

“Quite diplomatic of you,” Shun notes with a smirk. “The surface is numbed, so let’s get to work. And I believe I promised you a story.”

Kavik resumes his position, reluctantly interested in hearing the doctor’s biography, despite the unpleasant feeling taking root in his chest.

Shun carefully pushes the thread through the eye of the curved needle, looping it through on his first try. Kavik’s short-lived attempt at pursuing embroidery as a hobby one day many months ago had resulted in numerous pinpricks, three missing needles, and exactly fifteen tries before he was able to the thread the needle. For such a small feat, the envy was undeniable.

“My parents are both doctors, so I grew up around medicine,” Shun admits as he begins looping the thread through Yangchen’s skin. The Avatar lets out the faintest whimper as he starts, and Kavik feels his heart break in two. Getting hurt was part of the job, it was unavoidable really, but it still pained him to see Yangchen in distress like this. She was trying her best to hide it, but not even the Avatar is invincible.

“That’s lucky,” Kavik comments, speaking directly to the doctor. He figures that having another voice added to the mix might help distract Yangchen more, though that may just be his wishful thinking. “You’re lucky.”

Shun glances over at Kavik for a moment, his expression serious, before returning to the task at hand. 

“I suppose you could call it luck,” Shun concedes as he continues stitching, “I certainly grew up better off than most of the children we’re currently treating. But I also missed out on having a childhood. There’s not much time for playing games and learning carnival tricks when you’re constantly in lessons, studying, or devouring medical journals like they’re penny candy.”

“I’m guessing the kids caught you up,” Kavik comments.

“They gave you a glowing review, for what it’s worth. Oka said she’d give you ten out of ten stars,” Shun responds.

A smile naturally finds its way onto Kavik’s face, and he shakes his head. This guy is too perfect, checking off nearly every box of positive characteristics, that it makes Kavik’s insecurities flare up. Even when Shun is complimenting him, Kavik can’t but compare himself, deflating a little when he realizes how he won’t ever really match up to his skills. 

“For what it’s worth, my parents didn’t force me into this field. Of course they were excited I wanted to follow in their footsteps, but even they got concerned when I took it as seriously as I did, especially from such a young age.”

“What made you pursue medicine then?” Yangchen asks, sounding more stable now. The painkillers must be kicking in enough to dull the worst of the pain.

“Have you ever cared about something, someone, so much that it hurts?” Shun looks up, eyes flitting between the two benders before returning to the stitches. “That’s how I feel anytime I see someone sick or injured. I’ve been like that since I was a child. I used to accompany my parents on medical visits to more remote communities, and I’d feel my heart constrict every time I saw someone who was starving, in pain, or with that desolate look in their eyes.”

“I hate feeling helpless,” he continues,“even back then, I wanted to be of some use, even though my parents were more than capable of treating everyone. I wanted to grow up quickly so I could help as many people as possible. I threw myself into my studies, leaving little time for much else. Well, when you study that relentlessly, it’s quite easy to become a doctor before you turn eighteen. A little pro tip, if you’re ever considering a career change.” 

Shun chuckles at his own joke, not checking to see if anyone else is laughing because he’s hyper-focused on creating the neatest stitches possible.

To be that deliberate and that talented at what you do, it feels a little unfair to the rest of us who feel like their skills have stagnated.

Kavik’s jealous of this guy. He’s jealous of this pretty boy doctor who’s miles more dedicated and accomplished than Kavik could ever hope to be. The three people in this room are the same age, and yet, looking at the doctor and patient in front of him, Kavik suddenly feels like he’s miles behind.

“I think you’re quite a selfless person,” Yangchen notes, her voice gentle. “It’s admirable how deeply you care for people. To worry about others so much that it hurts, well it’s certainly not a foreign feeling.”

“Acerbic, beautiful, and charming? What did we mortals ever do to deserve an Avatar as extraordinary as you?” 

Shun finishes off the last stitch with a careful, tiny knot, then cuts off the remaining thread. He looks up at Yangchen with an enamored expression, eyes glittering and smile bright. He looks up at Yangchen with an enamored expression, eyes glittering and smile bright. Kavik feels the pit in his stomach grow, suddenly feeling like he’s intruding on something and eyes the door in case he needs to make a quick escape to maintain his dignity.

“It’s been an honor to have you as my patient, Avatar Yangchen,” Shun states with a slight bow before he starts clearing away the materials. Yangchen examines her hand, the neat, straight stitches that are so uniform it’s as if a machine made them. 

“What happened to speaking casually? I thought we were all friends here,” Yangchen teases.

They’re flirting, right? This has to be flirting, or a thinly-veiled version of it, Kavik thinks. He wants to turn away, or, ideally, escape from this room entirely, but his unbridled concern for Yangchen keeps him glued to his spot.

“Right, of course, my apologies,” Shun corrects. “Try to avoid getting the stitches wet or any strenuous activities with your hands. You’ll need to come back in a week for me to remove the stitches, but apart from that you’re free to go.”

With that, Kavik removes his back from the wall, his stormy expression reflecting the tumultuous emotions vying for control inside him. Yangchen gets up from her seat, plucking some money from a pocket inside her robes to pay for treatment.

“There is no way I’m accepting payment for treating you,” Shun protests when he sees the currency. “It was hardly a few stitches, and it’s my duty as a doctor to treat the sick.”

“And it’s my job as a consumer to give payment for services rendered,” Yangchen insists as she tries to shove the bills into his hand.

“I’ll have to refuse your money,” Shun maintains, “but I wouldn’t object to a nice dinner where we could about more of your escapades.”

Teeth glittering, eyes shimmering, hair falling in an annoyingly perfect way; this is the moment where Kavik decides he’s had enough.

Affixing a death glare aimed directly at the young doctor, Kavik nearly pulls the door off its hinges, making sure it slams as it closes, as he makes his leave. A suckerpunch would’ve felt more satisfying, though he figures there’s bound to be immense karmic retribution for attacking a medical professional. So Kavik makes the decision to flee rather than fight. His nonviolent partner would be positively proud, after she chastises him for his rudeness. Before that, though, she’d be swept off her feet by this ridiculously talented and unfairly handsome physician, with Kavik standing there powerless as it all plays out.

Life was rarely fair. But, in this moment, it felt downright cruel.

───  ⋅ ⋅ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

Unfortunately, in a town as remote as Saifong, there were very few places for Kavik to escape to. The clinic was even further out of the way of most everything else, and Kavik didn’t exactly feel like barging into the tiny general store or small local eatery with a storm cloud hanging over his head. So, after exiting the clinic in a huff, he began walking in the direction of the setting sun, kicking small rocks away as if that would dissipate some of his anger.

In actuality, Kavik didn’t understand why he was so upset. He was jealous of some hotshot doctor, so what? He’d seen plenty people in his life that had had things he wanted. Socialites with more money than they knew what to do with, government officials with the ability to fix everyone’s problems but not enough empathy to care, and Water Tribe members whose families were close-knit, willing and able to weather life’s challenges together. Envy was not an unknown feeling for Kavik, so why was he feeling especially downtrodden?

Was it because the gap between him and Shun was too wide, like a gaping chasm he had no chance of crossing? Perhaps. But there was a multitude of emotions tugging on him, pulling his heart in a thousand different directions. He wanted to ignore them all, hell, he was willing to rip out his own heart and stomp on it if it would free him from this sensation. 

Looking into the horizon, Kavik suddenly wished the Earth Kingdom wasn’t so dry. For an earthbender, this abundance of dirt and rocks probably felt familiar, but Kavik quite literally felt like a fish out of water. With no body of water for miles, Kavik’s fingers fidgeted, searching for a material that they would never find. If Kavik had his way, he’d create an igloo right here. Shut himself off from everyone else, and find solace in the frostiness that reminded him of home. 

Eventually, Kavik gets tired of walking and takes a seat on the ground. Holding his knees close to his chest, his shadow extends behind him as the sun continues to make its descent. Once evening turns to night, the temperature will drop drastically and Kavik will need to return to the clinic. A temper tantrum might feel good in the moment, but the inevitable walk of shame afterwards always has his face burning his embarrassment. 

He might’ve not been a doctor, but he was still nineteen; an adult, for all intents and purposes. Yet, here he was, acting more like a child than the kids in the clinic. He scoops up a handful of dirt, watching as the sediment slowly slips through his fingers. He continues this action for a few minutes, even after he hears a flutter to his left.

“I thought the doctor said no strenuous activity?”

“I can glide with just one hand, thank you very much,” Yangchen responds. The voice that automatically brings a smile to his lips on any other day does nothing for his sour mood right now. As Yangchen settles down on the ground beside him, Kavik makes it a point to not look at her. He’s not angry, exactly, but he’s not happy with her either.

“Quite an impressive sandcastle you’ve got there,” Yangchen jokes, eyeing the mound of dirt Kavik’s created. His lips stay in a flat line, and Yangchen lets out a sigh. 

“So we’re gonna talk about this now, then?”

“You can talk, I’ll listen,” Kavik decides, continuing to watch a new clump of granules slip between his fingers.

“That’s not really how a conversation works,” Yangchen notes. She’s sitting cross-legged, and she playfully knocks her shoulder against Kavik’s, to which he doesn’t react. He knows he’s being unreasonable and impetuous. He should have a better handle on his emotions, or even have the decency to look at Yangchen as she talks to him. But, he’s a coward. He doesn’t want her to leave, but he’s not brave enough to tell her that himself, so he just continues to make his mountain of dirt, and hopes she’ll stay by his side.

“You know, I think you and Shun are quite similar.”

“Ha!” Now that gets a response out of him, a choked laugh that betrays how dry his mouth feels.

“I’m serious!” Yangchen insists. “When he was talking about ‘caring so much that it hurts,’ you were the only person I could think of.”

“Then I think you’re forgetting yourself, Oh Great Avatar,” Kavik says. He was planning on saying as few words as possible, but now that the floodgates are open, the words come rushing out of him.

“You’re a perfect match. Two child prodigies, ridiculously gifted and tasked with protecting others. It’s no surprise you were enamored by each other.” His tone is defeated, and he feels like deflating after all the words have left him.

Yangchen’s blithe laughter fills the open air around them, discordant with the previously somber mood.

“Don’t tell me you’re—”

“Don’t say it!” Kavik spins to face the Avatar, his tone emphatic. “Don’t you dare say it. You might be the Avatar, but I won’t hesitate to..”

 Kavik trails off. Not only is she currently injured, she’s also capable of bending four elements to his one, and, even if none of that was true, she was still herself. Kind and beautiful Yangchen, too trusting and too forgiving for her own good. Even as Kavik feebly racks his brain for the kind of bodily harm he could threaten without being slammed to the floor or tossed in jail, her expression remains playful, teasing even. 

He groans like a petulant child, smashing the tower of sediment he created, smushing it down until it’s flattened. Yangchen pulls the soil with her bending, and, as if she was able to read his mind, creates a miniature dirt igloo. Kavik’s instinct is to drop his jaw in amazement, but he’s still annoyed and doesn’t want to give her the satisfaction. 

“You know, I feel envious sometimes,” Yangchen states suddenly and Kavik is pulled from his thoughts. His fingers twitch at his side, but their environment is the same as before.  There’s no water in proximity, nothing to make a life-sized igloo with. No escaping feelings this time. 

“Honestly, I can’t remember a time when I haven’t felt envious of someone else,” Yangchen continues.

She closes her eyes for a moment, scrunching up her face in an adorable way that Kavik can’t help but smile.

She opens her eyes, her irises shining like the silver instruments that were just used to treat her. At the memory, Kavik’s smile morphs back into a frown, causing Yangchen to sigh. Her eyes dart to the ground for a moment, then two, before she looks back up at Kavik.

“I often wonder what it must feel like to live without the weight of two worlds on your shoulders. To live without a care in the world. What kind of person would I be if I had been born in different circumstances?”

“Maybe I could’ve been a tea shop owner, or a mediocre erhu player,” she ponders. “An architect in the Fire nation, or a fisherman in the Southern Water Tribe? Kavik, I’ve met so many different people on my travels and I’ve been jealous of all of them in one way or another. What you’re feeling, that’s what it means to feel human.”

Although Kavik feels his original tension has left his body, he shakes his head at her.

“Yeah but you’re the Avatar. Even if you’re jealous of an ordinary person for half a day, it doesn’t matter because you’re the master of all four elements, bridge between the two worlds.”

She lets out a chuckle at the tagline he always adds.

“You’re better than all these people. Innately, you just are. But I’m just me. The Avatar wanting to be a regular person, that’s admirable. Humble, really. But for me, wanting to be something, someone greater, it’s nothing more than a pipe dream. I’m no one special, no one important. Nobody expects me to be anything. The idea that I could’ve somehow become a doctor in another life, it’s laughable really.”

Yangchen, though, isn’t laughing. She’s looking at him with that quiet concentration that assures him she’s hanging off his every word.

“To see someone so intelligent, so self-assured, so—ugh, charismatic, it drives me nuts! Of course I want to be like him! Who wouldn’t?”

“Who told you nobody expects anything from you?”

Yangchen’s question catches him off-guard. Her even tone cuts through his frustrated one, and he suddenly feels vulnerable, like he’s under examination.

“I’ve met your parents and it’s clear from the way they dote on you that they want you to be a kind, selfless person. The kind of person who’ll take the time to show a bunch of kids some phenomenal carnival tricks so they forget about their injuries.”

Yangchen smiles at the memory, and Kavik feels a grin tugging on his lips as well. 

“Your brother,” she makes an annoyed face at his mention, and Kavik doesn’t even try to muffle his chuckle. Yangchen, the most forgiving and understanding person he’s ever met, holding a grudge against Kalyaan, well, Kavik finds it hilarious.

“He probably hoped you would surpass him one day, even if he had a terrible way of showing it.”

Kavik thinks about her words, mulling them over in his mind. She was right about his parents; he was kind of amazed she’d ascertained that information from the few interactions they’ve had. As for Kalyaan, Kavik decided he would just take her word for it. Trying to understand why Kalyaan did anything was like trying to play Sparrowbones blindfolded: frustrating and a waste of time.

“And I expect the world of you, Kavik,” Yangchen adds, and Kavik feels like an arrow’s been shot through his chest. 

“I hope that doesn’t deter you. I’m not one to choose my companions lightly. I expect you to be compassionate, cunning, confident, and so much more.”

“ I need you to cover my blind spots,” she continues. Heat is rising to his face, but he doesn’t want her to stop. “When I’ve lost all faith in humanity, I expect you to remind me of my purpose. When I’m sure that one of my predecessors could’ve handled an issue better, I expect you to remind me that I was reborn into this body, into this person, for a reason, even if I don’t know why.”

“You expect too much of me,” he admits, his tone having become more playful.

“Like I said, I don’t choose my companions lightly,” Yangchen reminds, her tone matching his. “What happened to all your bravado? I remember my first impression of you: a waterbender too handsome for his own good, willing to lie to the Avatar’s face.”

“You’re too trusting; I’ve tried telling you this before,” he responds with a shrug, despite the firework show going on in his chest from her compliment. Kavik stands up, offering a hand as Yangchen does the same.

“Maybe I just like to believe in people,” she challenges after they’re both standing. “You know, see the best in them even if they don’t recognize it.” 

“For example,” Yangchen says as she looks him up and down. He’s not blind to the way her gaze pauses on his lips, his neck, and biceps; it sends a rush through his body and he hopes it’s not obvious

“No one can do tricks like you,” she states.

“After ogling me, that’s all you came up with?”

“Who said anything about ogling?” Her eyes are teasing, and Kavik has to resist the urge to crash his lips into the smirk on her face.

“Fine. Then after defiling me with your eyes-” he sees Yangchen raise an eyebrow at the new description, “you decided that my best feature was doing tricks. You really know how to make me feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside.”

She shoves him, her expression’s playful but the force she used is less so. “You are not getting any more physicality compliments from me. Your ego is already too big as it is.”

“Were you not just tending to my insecurities? What is that if not caring for my ego?”

“You don’t need me to remind you that you’re amazing,” Yangchen argues, ruffling his hair. Kavik squirms a bit in surprise, but then grabs hold of her wrist. Yangchen freezes, her eyes wide as a bolt of lightning passes between them. For a second, neither of them move. 

“Being able to work alongside you,” Kavik speaks first. “is a gift I don’t take for granted. I hope you never forget that.”

The intensity in Kavik’s eyes, the cerulean haze dotted with cobalt flecks, indicates his sincerity. Yangchen gulps, and Kavik’s eyes flick to her throat before returning to her gaze.

“You really are incredible Kavik,” Yangchen responds, using her other hand to caress his face. “I’ve known that from the first moment I laid eyes on you.”

A shiver runs up his spine, from exhilaration rather than fear. The knowledge that he’s not alone in his feelings, that they’re each as besotted with the other, it’s reassuring. The urge to kiss her, tracing his lips along her collarbone and down her neck has only intensified. It’ll happen one day, but not tonight. Right now, as they gaze lovingly into each other’s eyes, existing together in this moment is enough.

Slowly, they remove their hands from the other, their bodies craving contact the moment they disentangle. 

“So is the dinner date with the boy genius in the works or…?” Kavik teases, with most of his jealousy having evaporated.

“You know his name is Shun,” Yangchen chides, “and I really think you two could be friends. You’re more similar than you realizes.”

Kavik mulls over the idea for a moment. Shun was compassionate, as displayed by the clinic he owned & operated, and the home visits he went on. It wouldn’t hurt to have a doctor friend, considering how often Yangchen and her teammates got injured. He tells Yangchen that he’ll think about it, but no promises.

“Great,” she says with a genuine smile. “And that dinner date was never going to happen. Anyone foolish enough to flirt with the Avatar in front of her companion is not someone worth pursuing.”

“So that’s the only reason you’re saying no, then?” Kavik’s tone is mostly even, but wavers towards the end, revealing his desire for validation; a desire he’s such Yangchen won’t humor. 

And yet, the beautiful airbender standing before him gives Kavik a once-over, her gaze lingering at his lips. “Not the only reason.”

At that, Kavik’s ears tinge pink. Rubbing his neck, his lips quirk upward as he decides to take a chance.

“So you think I’m more attractive than that pretty boy doctor?”

“Don’t push your luck.”

───  ⋅ ⋅ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

@yangvikweek