behold, the avatar
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THEY WERE ALMOST back before the sunset. Given that traveling time— the ranch was a grueling fifteen minutes or so from the more busy roads of their village—Hika found herself shocked with the confirmation that she wasn't as wowed by the avatar as she thought she'd be.
The boy was a peculiar child and that of the Air Nomads, a nation she thought had fallen one hundred years ago, only fifteen of which she could confirm their lack of existence. The idea of him made her feel more pity for him than praise. She spent a good three minutes just looking at him, almost displeased. He was nowhere as old as her— he was three years younger, it wasn't much, yet Hika felt she was a whole generation older than him— mainly because he hasn't actually been alive for a century. That's what made him so bizarre, that he obtained this positive naiveness from such a devastating past, and that he had been so open to some strangers meeting him to talk about chunking rocks.
Really, Hoji clung to his air bison and told the three they could stay in the twins' family's barn. Except Hika had chimed in and demanded some introductions prior. Hoji was always welcoming and never assumed poorly of anyone. The Fire Lord could walk straight up to Hoji, and he'd offer the manic man some of Hika's tea. Hika was wary. She'd overthink and overanalyze even the space between someone's brows before even thinking about leaving them more than an ounce of her time. She'd let the Avatar stay in her barn when he earned her respect. His being the Avatar meant Hika had quite the high standards previously set.
Yet Aang takes light steps behind Hika as they pass through a path that just barely gives way to the pet air bison that thumps behind the two blue-clad freaks he travels with. Hoji's complete and utter infatuation with the thing still leaves Hika at a loss for words. Appa, as its name turns out to be, grunts every time he slips off into the lowered farmland, and every time Hika hears the stumble, she winces.
My crops! That massive thing is crushing them!
Hika thwacks her hand to her face with the next misplaced paw. After the stinging cringe passes, she brushes her bangs back from her eyes. They had grown rather long, yet whether the overgrowth is due for a cut soon is beyond her limited knowledge. She shakes the thought out of her head. Though cut sloppily, her almond hair was thick enough to hide much of her attributes, and the length that stopped just above her shoulders meant it wasn't long enough to worry about yet.
That, and if she cut her hair again Sying would be more fearsome than a Fire Nation general.
Hika's hands slip around her triceps, grabbing her elbows as she thinks of the time when she had longer hair. Simply beautiful. Healthy, glossy, and the styles that Sying and Fen could pin it up in would make a red tinge stain Hika's cheeks when she saw the finished result, but now she has quite the list of physically demanding chores. Long hair isn't suited for that kind of work.
Though her sanctioning for the short preference had underlying reasons besides not wanting sweat to mat it against the back of her neck during the day.
Yet the risk of her appearance for demanding work wasn't something the teenager curses. She looks at the landscape with much love, oblivious to the four behind her, six if she wanted to count the animals. The sunset plagues her family's lands with oil-painted colors. Sweet lavenders and tangy oranges spill out from the cup that the sun has tipped between the mountains as a last-minute hurrah— it's attempt to show its final beauty in its setting minutes. Come tomorrow morning, the burning, beautiful orb would be back with a display of the blue of an ocean Hika can only dream of seeing, and pinks that rival the color of fresh strawberries.
To the left of her is the wheat that Hika would have to gather at her wake tomorrow. The golden streaks bow down to the gentle breeze that tousles her hair. It was coming from the valley of the mountains that safeguarded her farm against intruders. The winds come from the same hilltops that are snow crested at their peaks, that absorb the colors of the sun that yawns for the earth they stand on, that wrap her family's vast property in a hug of protection.
And to her right, a field of wild berries. A miscellany of every kind of bush-borne fruit Hika could think of.
She smiles. This was an achievement of great pride for her— in a small Earth Kingdom village run by absentee Fire Nation Troops that would come to starve the occupants of their money and supplies, a small field of fruit she planted as her own was the closest she could come to self-dignity.
She has worked endlessly for this crop, for all the crops. So yes, the colors that reflect in Aang's wondrously grey eyes and the 'ooh's and 'ahh's that come from Sokka's watering mouth boast the already quite confident girl. Hoji should be proud too, if not for his earthbending, the lands wouldn't have been so organized. She'd hardly be able to tell where the vegetable end and fruits begin. The boy's prowess created a grid-like system of paths and drainage routes over the years. Those very systems helped harvest the crops and allowed the family to reserve water in the scenario of a drought.
It was intense work that loomed over the twin's shoulders with great claws and sharpened eyes. It's shadow hung over them in the form of sun-sprinkled freckles, dark skin, and sunburnt exposure that would make it hard for them to be conceived as elegant or poised. As earthbenders, they'd been predisposed to pouring their all into their family's property. Being almost essential meant having to stop going to school so they could spend more time devoting themselves to what they were supposedly more suited for. Having their element surrounding them meant honing in on natural skills. Having abilities that benefited their work meant relentlessly using them for only simple praise. So thinking of the farm is always bittersweet. Like a ripe blueberry. The prize of her hard work, the pay off from it, was rather fortunate, maybe even the most successful in her village. Even so, Hika could tell she became revolted by some of the memories devoted to the hard work.
Who could do that to their own son? She thinks, pushing down whatever build-up of jaw-tensing bile that grew in the back of her throat. He was happier. Now he's just content.
Although she'd say they were happy. She'd assume at least. There has always been a notion of having it worse. That, had Hoji not had a disability, he'd be signed up to fight on the front lines. So she'll continue to say they were happy. Well, one is, and the other is satisfied. Hoji gladly stays back with the fluffy beast that could probably beat the snot out of him but would never come close to hurting a fly, his jaw nearly sweeping the floor as he pets the bison, an odd task to do while walking through a farm, but...whatever.
Hika herself finds satisfaction in knowing that her brother found enjoyment in lieu of her suffering. "'Ika," Hoji calls from the back.
Hika cringes, she's been avoiding conversation the whole time, yet now her brother forces her into it. His stuffed voice is normal to her, but she knows that for Sokka, Katara, and Aang, it'd take a while to get used to. Hoji never truly learned how to talk, and he has absolutely no way of knowing to correct himself if he mispronounces a word or syllable. To add to his awkward trait, it sounds like he has cotton stuffed in the back of his mouth sometimes, still something Hika has never found needing correction, so she's never told him he sounded such a way. "We passed the barn. "
Oops.
"Well, why didn'cha tell me earlier." She huffs, turning around to sign to the boy. As she does so, he rolls his eyes, swinging his left foot over his right as a way to shift his stance. Now, Hoji leads the group to the barn. His back is to them— something significant as it showing his general trust in each individual that shuffles to the tall standing barn that peaks over a small patch of wheat. He no longer has someone to analyze conversation from, no way of telling the tone of the environment, and no way of knowing if something was afoot, so his ignorance of the world behind him is notable.
Hika thought she'd be the only one to take sight of its significance.
"Do you ever worry about him?"
It startled Hika at first. Sokka's voice had this constant sarcastic ring to it, but at the moment, a ting of curiosity taints that boyish rasp— though the grinding characteristic of his sound remains. Alike to how her mother would sometimes add the wrong spices to her meals, Sokka's voice seems misplaced. Sincerity isn't something he hands out like a newsboy trying to get rid of last week's dirty laundry, yet the softness in his eyes as he looks to his sister, who walks a few paces in front of them with the arrow boy, is almost natural. "I mean, Katara is a great waterbender, I know she can hold her own, yet I still worry."
The earthbender finds herself fighting the urge to snort. A few hours, at most, and they're talking about something as personal as families? Not even that, but the care of one's own family member? "Course I'm gonna worry." Hika shrugs, her shoulders— strong and well-defined due to years of hard work— tensing at the top out of habit. "But he's got his own way a' figurin' things out. I still gotta stay by his side or he won't know what's going on, though."
"He seems fine now . . ."
"He trusts y'all." Hika throws a lazy gesture towards where Hoji tilts his head, still bug-eyed, at the bison with a more questioning intensity than before, "Who ain't gonna trust the Avatar, of all people." An unintentional scoff spills from Hika's lips as easily as water slips down its drain.
"Anyone in the Fire Nation." The tribal boy mutters, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips to show that the comment is on the more humorous side of the spectrum.
Hoji would like him. He's an expressive boy. See's things on the sunny side, too, so trying to gauge whether he has a mature intention with his words or not would be a piece of cake for the challenged boy!
Hika lets out an involuntary sound that she guessed could be of the comical variety, "Ba-ha!" Her sense of humor could be like coffee drunk at midnight. Insane, in the slightest, and if it were, it'd likely be caused by the combination of spending her life on a farm, living through a war, and not exactly having many friends to escape such stressors with.
The sound that just escaped from her mouth like a lion-money from a circus cage draws the attention of those that could hear it, pulling the venomously blue and haunting grey of Katara and Aang's skeptical eyes over their shoulders.
They give her a questioning glance, which she had expected in part, so she answers is with an amazingly trivial smile and a wave motioned by the ripple of her fingers. The bender's way of saying "What? You ain't expecting a laugh from me?" without actually voicing anything.
The two before Hika and Sokka go back to their conversation, Aang peering in front of Appa to see just how far the barn is. Hika could answer that without even trying. She knew this walk like the back of her hand— though she hasn't studied her hand like she studied the paths of her farm— and based on the fact that the rock she used as a marker was passed only seconds ago, they'd reach the barn that the three would stay in within a matter of forty-five seconds.
"My parents aren't exactly aware of y'all all camping up just yet, so don't be goin' and makin' it obvious you three are here. Ain't much you could do, but ya' know..." She deadpans, gesturing towards the barn with a downward smile. As she watches the strangers look at the barn with a sort of contentedness— perhaps just having a roof over their head meant a good sleep— Hika thinks of the possibilities. They could start a fire somehow. They could send that bison flying— there's no way that her parents wouldn't see that. They could do something, anything, that would allow her parents to berate Hika and Hoji.
Sokka tilts his head at Hika's accusations. It wasn't very hospitable for her to blame them for scenarios brought on by her own overthinking and needlessly cautious preparation, yet he was more thrown off by the lack of formal speech. "Yeah," He drew, "Got it. No problem."
Hika clasps her hands, puffing her cheek out as she initiates the twins' leave. The Fire Nation must be looking for him, there was no doubt that an enigma of peace threatened the existence of the tyrannical nation. Spending time with the Avatar must be like a double-edged sword Hika can only look at. She won't feel the blades slide into her palms until she's holding it. "We'll getcha when soups up. Ain't good eats, but it's...edible."
She wouldn't lie to the Avatar. Her mother's cooking was one of many things on the list of things Hika only tolerated. She'd stuff her mouth with it because she had to, but there was the occasional meal where she couldn't stomach the mistake of allowing her mother in the kitchen. She'd end up swiping some produce or pocketing some quick-to-make meal she could sidle into the room she shared with her brother. She'd never tell her mother of her horrid job in the kitchen or even try and replace her, however.
Yet the Water Tribe Boy's excitement swept the ground from underneath Hika. Knocking her rear first into confoundment. Had the girl been told a meal she was going to eat tasted like practical shit, she'd prepare something in advance, "Hey, food is food, we won't mind, right guys?" Sokka vocalizes with enough raspy fullness for Katara and Aang to hear.
The girl scoffs, letting out a pleasant little laugh that Hika felt was too mature for her age. "Sokka will do anything for a warm meal, but yes, we'd be grateful to join you two for dinner." Katara gives her older brother a familiar glare. One Hika knows well, that any child who slipped up or made a mistake should have seen before.
The Avatar buts in, patting the air bison's leg. Innocence manifests itself in the form of gently closed eyes and an affable smile as he awaits for the twins to open the barn doors before him. "I'd like to get Appa's saddle off before we eat, though. It can get uncomfortable for him if it's on too long."
"Eh," Hika waves dismissively as the group collects in front of the barn. Lifting her toes, she drops her foot back to the ground with enough repetitiveness to relay to Hoji that they'd need to open the barn doors. "Bison ain't small enough to fit through a door, 'Ji.". She gets a sassy response as she rids the strangers of their concern about intruding on a timely dinner. "I ain't stupid, 'Ika." His words reverberated up from her feet with a rushed solitude. She'd pissed him off. "Hoji and I have to wash up first and dinner ain't ready 'till 'bout fifteen minutes after dark."
She wraps her fingers around splintered wood, yanking her arms nearly out of the socket as the door that rarely gets opened groans. The grinding of wooden doors scrapes the insides of Hika's ear. Hoji's door smacks to the end of its track with a thud as he smiles brightly. His gate is welcoming as he waits for Hika's door to slam against the end of its own track, and the two dust their hands off simultaneously, waiting for the... five... to pass them before standing in front of the entrance.
Hika watches as they start unpacking. It's almost habitual. The way they get to work without a word, placing things in predetermined areas and ridding themselves of travel trinkets. It's almost exactly like how Fen or Bao would unpack after up getting the hell out of their little village.
The air was different here, though. Relaxed. Light. Free of anything besides a bit of relief.
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AFTER HIKA AND hoji had scrubbed a days worth of dirt and grime from beneath their nails and the stained layer of sweat and fresh produce from their dry skin, the younger of the twins advised her family of the multitude of guests she had invited for dinner, and dinner only. After ensuring that her family was okay with a practical spirit dining with them, she dropped the room shattering information of "not only is he eating dinner with us, he's staying in our barn!". Except there was no joy when she told them this.
They had accepted it, however, with less of a "why would you invite a wanted spiritual being into our home" and more of a "don't fuck this up". Hika couldn't care less if they had jumped with joy or grumbled with distaste at the news, it was already done and no one in their right minds would turn down the avatar.
Even if he was just a kid.
She couldn't change the fact that the three were already invited. She'd deal with her mistakes later on.
The only problem was what she'd be dealing with.
More of a who, than a what, really.
So, Hika, to the best of her abilities, would ensure that this dinner was somewhat of a smooth ride. A pebble here and there she could survive with, but should a huge ass boulder fall in her path, she ought to find somewhere else to stay tonight.
Her family isn't exactly the forgiving type. Or at least her parents aren't. When Hoji's books say earthbenders are stubborn and strong-set in their ways, they weren't lying. Hika's family believes in hard work and gettin' what ya' give. That applies to attitude, mistakes, karma, and whatever else someone wanted to drop into that category.
Yet as it happens, her father is not an earthbender. So according to Hoji's books, he shouldn't be so stubborn and strong-set. But he is. A gentle giant, Guang typically gave input where it was due. If it wasn't needed, he'd stay silent, in his own burly, introverted way.
"So, Avatar," He starts after having forced down Sying's failed attempt— when is it not failed?— at rice, "Have you learned earthbending yet?" Guang's square jaw tenses as he blinks, looking into the bowl and taking another bite of the rice gladly.
For once, Hika doesn't see the lines of her father's face deepen or depart from Sying's gaze to hide his disgust.
Hika tilts her head, looking into the bowl of white rice that she stabs with her chopsticks. It was still... not favorable, yet she could stomach it. More than that, she didn't think twice about holding the bow to her mouth and scooping the rice into it ferociously.
The Avatar is quick to respond at the fault for not touching his food. The air hasn't lightened up enough for a stranger to feel comfortable in it, so neither he nor his friend— Katara, not Sokka, the boy was anjoying his share so much that he'd be asking for seconds in no time— have raised their chopsticks to their mouths just yet. "Not yet, Sir." Aang gives Guang a balmy reply, "I'm working on waterbending right now. I'm on my way to the North Pole to meet a master." He says with a monk's earnest smile. Hika squints at the stark contrast of the cool grayness of his eyes against the warm thickness of their home. From the lighting to the old paint that clings to the walls, Aang's eyes are like nothing she's seen before.
Hika hadn't even known grey eyes existed until she saw Aang. Blue eyes were not something she needed to care for, let alone think of, but the shock she's continuing to swallow upon seeing the rare color of Sokka and Katara's blue eyes is still getting stuck in her throat.
Guang pauses as he swallows a chewed up bite of beef, pointing at Hika with his chopsticks and a mouth muffled by food. "Well," He sniffs, "Should you need to learn it, this one right here is an earthbender."
Hika's face washes cold, yet prickles with heat at the same time. Aang wants a master of water bending. He's traveling to the North Pole just to find one. Hika's not that, not even in an earthbending form. What she is, is a lucky run-in the boy's friend happened to have that by chance lead him to finding somewhere to stay the night. She wasn't some master earthbender, she wasn't even anywhere near someone the Avatar of all people should take interest in.
She stretches her arms out in front of her, voice straining as she boasts, "I mean, my earthbending packs a pretty damn good punch, but it ain't nothin' to run home about. Hell, Hoji's probably better than me. Hika deflects her father's suggestion to the Avatar without regret or shame. Sage green eyes are felt by the hairs on the back of Hika's neck, rising with the knowledge that Sying's glare is not something to ask for. If Hika desired air that solidified with tension, she'd granted her wish. With each second that Hika speaks with a full mouth, slouches, sets her arms on the table, her mother twists the knife that bores into her child with just a look. She'll drive it deeper with Hika's ignorant wording. To jeopardize ones image in front of the avatar, well no mother would condone her daughter doing such a thing.
She wants more than anything for Hika to look her in the eyes. For her daughter to share in some way a spark of an apology or at least admittance that what she did was wrong between the two of them.
But Hika is stubborn. She's to prideful to back down. Even if the teenager would regret it later, there was a small part of her that felt good every time she made a jab or a remark that struck someone as distasteful and unbecoming of a young woman.
Because of such, Hika's eyes remain forward, yet she remains yelling the same thing over and over again. Shut ya' mouth! She pins her attention to something steady, the airbender across from her, as if his bending had the ability to liquify the air held just out of reach of her by Sying's daunting hands.
A certain pair of blue eyes are locked onto her. It seems every pair of eyes which occupied the table weighs on her heavy chest. All things considered, she should've expected this. Such was nothing to Aang, Katara, or Sokka, their gaze was due to the girl talking— if they weren't looking at her while she was talking, she'd find it slightly disrespectful. Nevertheless, her family knew the depths of her own disrespect.
A short explanation would be saying something along the lines of not enabling a child's temper tantrum so that they don't grow used to getting what they want from whining and crying. In the same way that Hika's family cared less for a heifer that could reproduce, or a bull with joint problems when they had hundreds of other significant cattle that could replace one faulty one. They had no means to assist the unhealthy ones, as well, no money, no resources, but they had replacements.
Why worry about the faulty heifer, when a perfectly healthy one exists only paces away.
Hika exists, so Hoji is seen as insufficient.
Except Hoji is not a cow.
He's not. Which is what made Hika so... agitated when her parents would treat him like cattle. Her jaw was tensed with the efforts it took not to shout about her brother not being some kind of livestock when she remembered just where the dinner conversation had died off. Earthbending.
Earthbending and cattle have nothing to do with each other.
"Earthbenders!" With a strange excitement, Aang says. His voice is sweet and light, an ease which lifts such a thick spell from the air, yet theres a humor. Aang's words were not that of an earnest monk. Everyone at the table knew both twins could earthbend full and well. He was simply putting up an act, one Hika couldn't blame him for, she might've done it as well if she were in his seat. "That's amazing!"
"Sure is," He straightens out, crossing his arms over his chest as a proud smile replaces his typical disinterested, aloof face. "Helps keep most'a that farm out there." He nods at the small, crapy window that just so happened to capture most of their land in its view. He's grown tired of the current topic. "What brings you to our humble home, Avatar Aang."
Humble, that's right... Hika snorts into the clay cup, nearly empty of its contents of water.
Aang smiles, setting his chopsticks on the side of his plate so he doesn't leave them resting in his food. "My flying bison has to rest every night, and Hika and Hoji offered the barn for Appa to stay in." It's simply put.
"That, and food." Sokka's mouth is full of rice and his eager eating brings a rarity to Sying's face. Softened are the taught lines Hika is used to. It's like looking at a painting someone just couldn't get right, but you couldn't figure out what the problem was. Either way, it was a welcome rest gifted by the .
One of the older of Sying's children looks at Sokka with eyes crinkled by disgust. She brings a perfectly sized helping of rice to her mouth, proper as Fen always is. "Someone's hungry." And then she silences herself, a mere two words out of line from someone who lacked any form of imperfection.
Neatly pinned back hair. Perfect manners and posture. Clothing that was nowhere near showing signs of being well-worn. She's stained with freckles, and her skin is still tan, but she holds much more superficial beauty than Hika. The younger sister didn't give two shits about it, the only thing that vexed her about Fen's perfection was that a few years ago, she was the complete opposite.
Nevertheless, the boy in question acts brashly as if he were used to the ruder side of sibling banter, which he probably is. He smiles boldly, a wide grin that makes a few grains of rice fall from his cheek, "I'd never turn down a meal."
Hika can see her mother elbow Fen in the side, and a slight flick of pain dims her sister's face, "Ow..." She mutters, the sound echoed by her cup. She sets it down and brings her hands folded to her lap, looking down at them while pressing her lips between her teeth. Disappointed with how she was acting. Hika could tell, because the sisters tended to share one thing in common. Until they get too far, they dont think they were doing anything wrong.
"It's a very lovely farm." Katara smiles kindly, shifting the attention once again. With how the trend is going, Sokka would be next, though his cocky smile toward Fen could be considered a nice distraction. Hika wouldn't mind if he occupied the entire night with his sarcasm and jokes.
She wouldn't mind that at all, if it replaced the entirety of their night. She's had dinners like that before, when her mother would force her— yes, a younger Hika would actually put up a fight as to not wear this item of clothing— into a dress or skirt and pin back her hair. They'd go over to one of Sying or Guang's friends, and a dark, foul smelling substance would be passed around. Hika was never old enough to try it— although that doesn't mean she doesn't know what it is now : whiskey, wine, beer— but for some reason, by the end of the night, anyone who drank it would be singing shanties, laughing uncontrollably, and all of the kids would be growing tired and wanting to go home.
She knows why they started taking absence in those dinners, but they still have an old, warm haze over them that she enjoyed.
Now, their nights are dry, colorless, almost. Her father works his jaw, taking in Katara's complement with great pride. "Ain't nothin' much," He dismisses, "Been working it for some time, though. Since I was 'bout the twin's age." With a bit of a laugh, he drinks that same dark liquor. From the smell of it, Hika knew it to be one he made by fermented wheat. This one was kind of clear, with a bit of a yellowish color. He's let her try it, Hoji too, but the older twin was not keen about it's taste.
When he sets his cup back down, his face grows warm as he clicks his tongue, taking in the taste. His eyes are bright as he continues. "I'm hopin' one of these three will take it over for me."
Hika's fingers fill themselves with the fabric of her pants, some kind of attempt to remove the thick frustration that made her chest burn. She didn't want this farm. It has as many bad memories as it does good. She didn't know what she wanted when she grew up, didn't care for it really, but she didn't want this farm.
Theres a small squeak beside her. Muffled, as if cotton was stuck in his throat as always. "Four." Hoji was keeping quiet for a reason.
Not all of Sying's and Guang's children were present. There was one more, the oldest. He made every effort not to be here. Not just for this dinner, any chance he got he'd leave. And Hika would rarely see him when he came back. Typically, he'd travel out to other villages to try and sell off cattle or excess produce, always returning with his shoes nearly worn to holes, shoulders battered and rubbed from the basket he'd cary on his back, and when he wasn't able to hold his own, the results of such.
He's become cold and distant. The last time Hika might've talked to him was somewhere near a month ago.
For Hoji, it's been almost four. He's stopped signing to his younger brother.
Sying clears her throat, "My husband does have a point, We're hoping Hika will take over, her earthbending's strongest, and she's got a bit of a green thumb." Her tone was sharp, like a slap that left a snake bite sting. Hika understood well what that meant.
So she taps Hoji's shoulder, yet as she holds out her hand to sign; 'watch it, 'ji!', she shakes it, dismissing that she ever really needed his attention. She bites the insides of her cheeks, wanting to take her own advice, but Rolling her shoulders back, Hika is, as her mother would want to put it, a stubborn little shit.
She rolls her shoulders back as arrogance pulls her lips apart in a cheesy grin. Crossing her arms over her chest, she flexes her biceps, which grow sizes larger from the way she carries herself, "Yeah, yeah, my bending may be somethin', maybe even the strongest in this town, but ain't nothin like 'Ji's. My parents may tell ya' it's me makin' that farm out there somethin' great, but it ain't."
She claps the back of Hoji's shoulder as the boy's cheeks grow red. A small smile grows as he shrinks into himself. "It ain't nuth-in special..."
Hika rolls her eyes, slamming her elbow into the table as she rests her head into her hand, poking Hoji's shoulder relentlessly as his face grows even redder. "Don't get all sheepish on me, 'Ji!" Hika chuckles, "If it ain't for you, that drought a few months ago woulda' knocked us flat on our asses."
Her words left Sying's squeaking her teeth together.
Hoji could feel his mother's heartbeat racing fast and hard, even though the wooden floors they sat on, "That's 'nuff, 'Ika."
The girl scoffs, her bangs fluffing out as she rears her chin into her neck, "That ain't even the half of it. Your bendin' ain't something to overlook! Our parents ain't gonna admit it because they're dumba-"
"That's enough, Hika!" Sying shouts, slamming her fists on the table. Perturbed are the cutlery and cups that rest now untouched on the table, and numb and cold are Hika's limbs, which tense inwards as she chokes on her breath.
As heat rushes into her, a paralyzing prickle wraps itself around her spine like a ribbon, tying knots around the base of her neck. While her face empties all of the blood it once contained, she becomes as white as the rice before her, which begins to blur from individual grains into one big mush of ivory.
Until the rims of her eyes are no longer stinging with red, she will continue to stare into the bowl as if it's one of Hoji's books. She'll dig her nails into the palm of her hand, dig her thumb into that squishy area on the backside of her other hand between her pointer finger and other thumb, whatever it'll take to get her mind off the curses she reprimands herself with.
Shit. shit, shit, shit, shit! You've done it now, Hika. You stupid f-
"Hika, could you go make the Avatar and his friends a cup of tea, I think they'd enjoy some."
Hika blinks, sniffing as she snaps her head up and smiles at her older sister. She nods, quickly excusing herself and rushing into the kitchen. She can hear chattering pick back up from the dining room, waiting until her mother's voice quiets and her footsteps become heavy drumbs in Hika's chest, yet it never happens.
As the water boils, Hika grips tightly onto the counter, shifting her weight into her hands as she buries her head between her shoulders. Thuds tickle her feet. ''Ika. 'Iks. Hika. Hika, Hika, Hika.'
'What, 'Ji!'
'Want me to come in there?'
'No. Stay.'
'You okay?'
'Fine, tea'll be ready soon.'
Hoji doesn't respond. Hika didn't give him much to respond to, but part of her wishes he had come into the kitchen. By the time the kettle screams and the tea is ready, Hika's face is fresh, the only red being the patches that are joined by poppyseed freckles atop her nose and parts of her forehead.
Even the purple indents on her palms have resolved. The conversation is no longer that of earthbending, thank good. It's no longer questions of Hika and Hoji's work on their farm, or even her fathers work. Oddly enough, Hika finds herself listening in on the conversation from the kitchen.
The Southern Water Tribe is something Hika knows little to nothing about. Katara and Sokka's clothing is something that can be layered, a few items are fur lined. So it's cold. So cold, that abundant farms with hills rolling of produce aren't something the two have seen since leaving. All that she knows has been summed up in two sentences, and it seems that's all her father can piece together as well.
While Hika carries in a pitcher of tea and some clay cups, her father questions the siblings travels from such a...place. "Are you two enjoying the Earth Kingdom. Whole lot different than the Southern Water Tribe ain't it?"
Hika's presence couldn't be larger, albeit she holds herself smaller than a mouse. She'd be no different than a servant in an old Earth Kingdom sage's estate given her silent steps and motionless breath. Not looking at anything more than the table she sets the threes cups on and the tea kettle she pours their drink out of, she sits back down with a heated face.
"Yeah..." Sokka clears his throat, adjusting in his seat as he mirrors a similar expression to Katara. He speaks as if he's walking on glass. It's unbroken at the moment, but there are cracks at each step. Should he shift just an inch in the wrong direction, it'll shatter and cause immense pain to someone. "A lot of green. Lot of...grass."
"And it's warmer," Katara lets a balmy laugh relax her tense shoulders. Hika didn't think the girl was capable of such acting, but as if it were her second nature, the giggle rolls of her tongue. Silk becoming unfolded, all that is left is the shallow crinkles. "We don't have many ways to produce crops, so it took some adjusting to getting used to different kinds of food."
"Actually, we don't have any at all," Sokka chuckles. Snowballing on his sisters ruse with an ease that convinced Hika they've done something similar before. Whether it was from their travels, or if they were just mischievous kids that have tried and succeeded at pulling shenanigans often.
"They're right. When I woke up in the north pole, it was a lot different than the air temples I was used to. It's a small village, not much to see, but because it's so small, everyone is really friendly!" Aang grins. At some point, he had eaten the rice, fruits, and vegetables, but hasn't even looked at his beef.
"Hm," Hika's Father hums. "It's rare to get something like that now a' days. Everyone here's been a little on edge with that war."
Hika pruses her lips. It doesn't seem like the war sits well with Aang. More than anything, she wants to change the subject. Get it away from where she thinks it's going, but her lips are sown shut. Her jaw is locked.
Even so, everyone is almost finished with their meals. There's not much of a conversation to salvage. Guang knows this, and as disappointed as he would be to end a dinner with the Avatar short, his family has always turned in a little early. He has, at least. Him, Hoji, and Hika would wake up before the sun to start their chores, meaning they'd need to turn in early enough to get enough sleep to get them through the next day. He clears his throst, clasping his hands, "Well, I've gotta turn in, we'll getcha' some blankets and all that stuff for the barn. It oughta get pretty cold t'night."
Aang gives one short dip of his head with a thankful smile, pressing off the ground and standing, he awaits the promised blankets that Hoji rushes to follow Guang and retrive.
Hika and Fen start with the plates, stacking them up and quickly, clinking begins to bounce off the walls of the small dining room. When Hika reaches for Katara's plate, the waterbender lifts it with slender fingers and a warm smile. "Here, let me," She offers, reaching her other hand for some of the plates Hika has stacked up in one of her arms, "It's the least I could do after you all offered us dinner and tea."
Hika's eyes turn solid, her irises unmoving from Katara as a throat is cleared behind her. "No. Let me." She stresses, holding her hand out as if she was ordering Katara to give her the plate at once. Her voice doesn't shake as she demands, it's quite the opposite actually, and the younger girls eyes narrow as she hesitantly hands Hika the plate back. "Thanks."
When Hika returns to the dining room, Hoji stands peering over some blankets and lanterns, looking at his toes which wiggle awkwardly. He has no way of talking to the Avatar and his friends, so it's likely that the four sat in some thick silence and maybe a failed attempt to comunicate with her brother.
She takes some of the blankets, and with them the lanterns atop, playing with some variation of a smile as she travails at melting away the previous taught air. When she gets to their doorway, she pushes it open with her back, kicking it to fully open it since its hinges would rarely swing all the way open on the first try. "Blankets gonna be all for ya'?"
"Thank you, but we should be good, we've kind of got the traveling thing covered." Katara, not optimistic in her answer, shrugs. A hesitant glance is passed over to Sokka, whose eyes tighten as his head shakes in a way that would be unnoticeable to anyone else. "Is that... Normal for Earth Kingdom families?"
That's just the half of it. Hika shoves back acid. Why is she bringing this back up? Does she have a death wish?! She smiles so big it hurts, bright and obviously fake, "You know how us earthbenders are, stubborn as all get out and tough as a rock. Tough lovin' is all it is." She was trying to convince herself, and spirits allow it, it would work on Katara as much as it did herself, "Our parents have an odd way of showin' it, but they don't love us any less than yours do you."
"Thats tough love?" Sokka scoffs. His voice pitches upwards in disbelief. Similar to how he'd sound when he was joking, but something was different about it. She didn't pay enough attention to know what that was, but it makes her jaw tighten sourly. Jeez, her eyes just wouldn't stop stinging. Maybe some dirt got into them earlier that day...
Katara warns, "Sokka."
"It is." Hika keeps her voice from jumping off the edge and into a snap. "Ain't nothin wrong with it."
The earthbender never enjoyed tension so thick and so still that it makes it seem like her chest has no space to move, she'd be fine to keep this like this. This horrible variation of tranquility for her means awkwardness. The same kind of awkwardness that the girls in her village suffered with their friends during school, something she had to give up. She hadn't had a friend in... in shit, how long?
Yet she wouldn't call these three her friends for her own sanity, because if she lost any more friends she might just go insane.
"These butterflies are unlike any I've ever seen." Aangs gray eyes match the same gray of the clouds that add a pang of personality to the desolate night sky. Why there's no stars, Hika doesn't know. "Do they come out every night."
"Sure do," hika hums, watching as one land on the lantern she cradles in her arms. Her eyes glisten as they reflect its glow, and it lights up how her face softens as she relaxes with the flap of its glowing wings. "I call 'em light up butterflies because the actual name of them isn't all too telling." Hika forces herself to look up away from the one that has landed on her lantern to see Hoji holding one on his index finger. He lets out a small whine when it flies off to join the others. Blue and purple butterflies flutter around the outskirts of crops, hiding between blades of tall grass and sitting atop stems that extend from stalks. They looked like delicate rose petals dipped in a thin sheet of the most expensive, luxurious gold, and the twins have always enjoyed staying out late enough just see them fill the night sunken fields.
"Well what's their actual name?"
"Butter-flies."
Sokka lets out a chuckle that has the rasp of a teen boy that's attempting to feel comfortable in his own voice, which is exactly what it should sound like. "Wait really? I thought it'd be something stupid?" Even in the dark, his eyes are bright, and while it may not have been the color they still stood out to her.
"It is stupid. Butterfly and Firefly mixed together. Their oughta be some other name for 'em, but who ever started callin' them that musta been missing a few screws." Hika shrugs. She'd nearly let go of that twisted feeling in her stomach. For now, she's forgotten who awaits her when she returns from the barn.
Upon hearing her jab, all three of the teens let out a short laugh. The joke wasn't intentional, in fact, Hika had developed a snarky, snippy kind of aspect a personality. It was something akin to a double edged sword. Sometimes it'd gain her the title of a quick-witted, humorous and a tad bit sarcastic young woman.
And other times you ain't got a clue when to shut it.
She's glad to say it's the former this time.
"I finally laughed at a joke that wasn't my own." Sokka finds himself scoffing with an airy lightness to his voice, "And I rarely do that."
"Oh please! You'd laugh at how the wind makes a bush bend." His sister rolls her eyes at her brother, speaking an almost perfect scenario seeing as Sokka was currently letting out a boyish giggle at how three twigs of wheat plants had tangled together.
He straightens out and attempts to hide the smile he so easily let slip onto his face, crossing his hands over his chest and hoisting his chin high, "I would not!" He defends, making his voice lower as a way of showing his sister that he is more mature than that of what she accused him for.
Hika lets out a low chuckle, gravity as she looks peers at the guilty boy behind her. "Proof's in the puddin', Sokka."
He narrows his eyes at Hika, sticking out his tounge before pulling down his bottom eyelid. The girl, in return, rears her chin back and pulls the corners of her lips up. Her eyebrows hug her lashes and she continues showing her disdain for him until he turns towards his sister. "At least I have humor. You're just a wet blanket."
"Ha!" Aang laughs shortly before his shoulder pull up in attempts at blocking the redness in his cheeks due to Katara's eyes pinning into him like darts.
Even if it is just for one night, Hika's found herself content. She wants to cover this small little flame with her hands, protecting it from the harsh winds, cold rain, and daunting clouds that may put it to rest.
ততততত
— camryn
— 7766 words