#sukizula

Suki is already in motion when the morning bells ring, making it to the courtyard before the sun has fully broken over the horizon. Her fellow Kyoshi Warriors move with her, a flash of green and gold, fans snapping open and shut in a precise rhythm.

Their uniforms are slick and modern, but carry hints of the ancient traditional armor worn in Kyoshi’s time. Thick forest green fabric beneath strategically placed metal plates, as close to a military uniform as one can get while being light enough to wear for long shifts and perform Kyoshi Island’s signature dance-like fighting style. Some Warriors do their makeup in ways that subtly honor the traditional facepaint—red eyeshadow, thick eyeliner, but it hasn’t been mandatory since the ‘60s.

The air is thick with ocean spray and sweat.

“One more time, girls!” Suki’s voice rings out clear and cheerful, even with sweat dripping down her neck. “But tighter on the turns. Ready?”

They start their set again. One of them stumbles and corrects herself, face hardening with determination. Suki catches her eye and smiles, all encouragement, no judgment. She never raises her voice, not unless it’s absolutely necessary. She far prefers leading with trust over fear.

At twenty-four, she’s already something of a local legend. A non-bender, but a prodigy. Captain. Her parents died when she was young, so she was raised collectively by the island, between aunts and cousins and teachers. Adopted into the custody of the Kyoshi Warrior Youth Program at the youngest legal age, she learned discipline early, but kindness too, because on Kyoshi Island, the two are treated as equals instead of opposites.

The training courtyard is inland, but sits high enough you can see the sea over the western wall. You can catch glimpses of incoming ships, or monsters surfacing for air in deeper waters if you look at the right moment.

A horn sounds from the speakers on the watchtower. Then another. Suki pauses her set and straightens, lifting a hand. “Hold,” she orders. The other warriors follow suit and stand still, fans snapping shut almost in unison. She jogs to the edge of the courtyard, to the western wall, ornately carved stone that sits about chest-high, shading her eyes as she looks out toward the water.

There, she sees them. Dark shapes on the horizon, cutting through the morning haze. A small fleet, maybe half a dozen ships, their hulls unmistakable even at a distance. Red sails.

Fire Nation.

Suki’s chest tightens. She can already feel the panic building throughout the island. Rumors have to be swirling. By the time she returns to the courtyard, the girls’ faces are tight with concern. Her eyes dart to Fume, who quickly shoves her phone in her uniform pocket.

“Fume! You are not allowed to have your phone at practice. You know that, what gives?” Suki sounds harsher than she means to, but now is not the time.

“What did you see?” Fume asks in response. Suki sighs. This isn’t insubordination, this is fear.

“A small group of Fire Nation ships,” Suki answers bluntly. She respects her fellow warriors too much to beat around the bush. “But that doesn’t mean we have to surrender to our worst fears. We don’t know anything yet.”

“They’re saying it’s an envoy,” Fume says. “Of diplomats.”

“For negotiations,” another girl adds. “So maybe it’s not a military mission?” The optimism in her voice sounds thin and fragile as rice paper.

No one has any faith in negotiations with the Fire Nation. But no one wants to say the word “surrender” out loud.

Suki nods, projecting calm out of habit. “Alright. Training’s done for now, we’re all officially on duty. Get your supplies, then pair up, and stay visible. Give reassurance to anyone who needs it. We make sure the people of Kyoshi Island stay calm and hopeful. No rumors, no panic. Understood?”

“Yes, Captain!” Everyone’s voice rings out in unison, steadier now that they have a mission.

Suki walks the streets, trying to look as confident and unafraid as possible. Less than an hour later, her phone buzzes with news headlines rolling in. The Fire Nation delegation has requested an audience with Kyoshi Island leadership to discuss matters of mutual interest. Trade, security, et cetera. No one says “surrender,” and no one has to.

Some time later, after completing her rounds, Suki returns to the warrior compound to find a young man waiting for her at the door.

“Captain Suki,” he says with a light bow. “You’re requested in the Council hall. Immediately.”

She straightens, not particularly wanting to be in the same room as anyone from the Fire Nation. “Did they say why?”

He shook his head. “Only that you were to come immediately.”

Icy fear pricks at the base of her spine. She hands off supervision to her lieutenant and follows the messenger through the streets. People watch her pass, fear on their faces. She smiles where she can, and stares straight ahead when she can’t. Her mind races as they walk. She’s never met anyone from the Fire Nation before, and has never wanted to.

Their global conquest has the entire world living in fear. It’s been something like a hundred years since they committed genocide against an entire people, wiping airbending out of existence, and they’ve only grown more powerful since then. Even on Kyoshi Island, some people think it’s inevitable, that the Fire Nation really will take over the entire world.

If they can get to Kyoshi Island, Suki thinks, maybe they’re right.

When they arrive, the room is already full. Her direct superior is there, Commander Rensha, face carefully neutral. So is her superior, hands folded like he’s bracing for impact. And then the others.

They wear uniforms in deep burgundy, black Fire Nation insignias catching the light. They look like the kind of people used to everyone else rearranging themselves around their presence. The conversation dips as she enters, then resumes, quieter. She stands rigidly still next to the messenger, hands clasped behind her back, perfect posture. She is used to being observed, but this is different. Less like she’s an officer, more like an object.

Conversation continues around her for a moment. Finally, her Commander clears her throat and gestures for her to come closer. When Suki complies, she leans forward and speaks, her voice low and clinical.