Chapter Text
Every day, in every way, it's getting better and better
Fire Nation Palace, Hours Later
Thwack.
The instant the noise rung out through the princess’s bedroom, she knew what it was. Izumi hadn’t been asleep for long, but the telltale sound of rock hitting glass had her wide awake. It wasn’t until the third rock hit her window however, she finally got out of bed and slid it open.
“Seriously?” Izumi frowned, leaning on the windowsill as she looked down at her somewhat out of breath boyfriend. Bumi was in his old, slightly too small tank top and baggy pajama shorts, but he still managed to look pretty under the moonlight. Yue’s gift, he’d call it.
“I was feeling nostalgic.” He smirked, raising up his hands. He looked healthier too, now. Like himself.
“Help me up.”
After a few awkward lurches and more strength than she’d wanted to exert in her finest nightgown, the two landed in a pile on her bedroom floor. “You really shouldn’t be doing that in your-” she started.
“It was twelve steps.” He huffed, slowly sitting up. “I counted.”
Gingerly, she helped him up and onto the bed. “Were you lunging?” Izumi wrinkled her nose.
“You’re no fun.” Bumi clutched his chest in mock-upset. Izumi raised a warning eyebrow. “ I was trying to be romantic.”
“I prefer healthy.” She countered, placing more pillows around his back and his leg, as she’d seen his healers do.
“Izumi, babe.” Bumi caught her hands. “I’m okay. I’m going to be completely okay.” His face was close enough now that she could count every freckle if she wanted, even in the low light. She could also see every nick, every remnant of what threatened to take him away. “Trust me?”
“Tentatively.” Her eyes narrowed, but she resigned to lay down.
“I’m going to miss you so much when I leave.” Bumi sighed, raising their intertwined hands to his chest. “I feel like I just got here.”
While the circumstances were life-altering, they had managed to make the last few days feel fairly normal. Bumi took pride in making a show of every milestone, and Izumi relished sneaking them extra desserts between healing sessions, like he used to do for her when they were small. Before, when she pictured telling her family about their relationship, she envisioned stress and loving noisiness, but there had been none of the sort. It was refreshing, if not more relaxing, to be together in the way they longed to all day long.
“It’s a good thing that you can go home, Boom.” Izumi reasoned, leaning her head gently on his shoulder. In just over a week, Bumi would be cleared for travel, and spend the rest of his physical therapy in Republic City between his home and the UF base. The news was cause for celebration, creating a wave of peace throughout the palace, but Izumi would be lying if she didn’t wish he could continue his work here.
“Yeah, yeah.” Bumi sighed, leaning his head against hers. “I just… I don’t it got me thinking about when we get to be together all the time.” His voice was sickly sweet, with just a hint of hesitation.
Izumi contemplated for a moment, daring to press on the vagueness of his statement. She hadn’t turned on the lights, and for whatever reason the mild darkness fueled what bravery she needed. “Did I tell you our parents thought we got married?” She asked.
His hand stilled in hers. “What?” Bumi squeaked.
Izumi snorted. “Yeah. They thought we… soul bonded? That we did whatever ritual your parents did.” She explained, turning to face him. Even in the dim light, she could see his face had turned a slight shade of pink.
“Oh, the promise thing?” Bumi asked, brows furrowed.
“Yep.”
“Huh.” Bumi sighed, staring out, suddenly incredibly interested in her ceiling. Whatever he was trying to play off, she could see through. He was as familiar to her as Fire Nation red and as predictable to her as the heat. “What did you… think about that?” He asked, neutrally.
Izumi thought for a moment of all she could say. “I don’t know… It seemed nice.” She answered, honestly, letting the statement hang freely. He knew her too, after all, and could read her just as well. “I think that’s the part that surprised me. The fact that I wasn’t that phased by it.”
“Yeah…” Bumi echoed. “Same.” Izumi leaned closer, running a hand over his exposed shoulder. He was staring right at her with the boyish grin that made anything feel possible. The tension in the air was thicker than her throwing stars and just as deadly. His icy eyes almost dared her to say it.
For a second, she nearly did.
“But we can’t.” Izumi said instead, leaving out what would remain unsaid. “We’re teenagers.”
“They were teenagers.” He smiled, foolishly.
Izumi leaned deeper into her pillow, pulling away from his gaze. “But we’re real teenagers.” She argued.
“Fair.” Bumi shrugged, accepting defeat. When she glanced back he was still looking at her, utterly enamoured, like she held up the world. Instead of accepting his unspoken offer, she leaned in and gave him a quick kiss, hoping to stave off any impulse she still had to chart a course to the nearest temple.
“Still…” Izumi started, pulling back. “I looked into after they explained. It sounds really sweet.”
“It’s very pretty.” Bumi explained, stroking her arm, absentmindedly. “You can do it at sunset or sunrise. The temples are beautiful this time of year…”
“Bumi The Second,” Izumi gasped, sitting up on her elbows. She was maybe the only person who used his complete name, and only when she was serious. It was more fun, honestly, having more syllables to throw around. “Do not go there.”
“Oh you went there first, princess.” Bumi countered, smugly, pulling her close.
Izumi let some strands of hair fall forward as she focused on their hands, interlaced between them. “So not now,” she affirmed, playing with his fingers in her own, “but one day… I’d like it, I think. If that was apart of my plan.”
“I’d like it too,” Bumi nodded, moving impossibly closer. “Just, you know, if we’re talking about things we’d like.”
“Yeah,” She smiled, coyly. “Just if we’re talking about them.”
Bumi loosened a hand from her grip, and caressed the side of her face with his palm. “I love you, Zooms.” He whispered.
Izumi leaned in, letting their foreheads press together. They were so connected that she could feel the rise and fall of his breath, knowing whole heartedly she’d want to be this close, for the rest of time. “I love you too, Bumi.” Izumi whispered back.
For this life and the next.
Fire Nation Palace, Present
Bumi remembered the day they moved to Air Temple Island permanently with a clarity so piercing you’d think he’d written it down then and there. He hadn’t, of course, but it was one of his clearest memories from his childhood, from reasons fairly unknown. It proved to be helpful, though, in the years to come, because he was fairly certain he was the only person who remembered it clearly for several reasons. The primary being his beautiful new baby brother and his obnoxious set of lungs. After Tenzin, Bumi was shocked his parents ever thought he and his sister could ever be air benders. When the baby wailed, he wailed loud and he wailed long. To make matters worse, Tenzin had been experiencing a terrible streak of colic, making his air bender screams even more erratic and leaving their parents more sleep deprived than they’d been in the war. To make matters worse, when they finally arrived Republic City was facing the worst winter storm season in its recorded history (which was not long, but bad nonetheless).
Suffice to say, Bumi spent much of that week holed up inside and largely untracked, playing in moving boxes with his sister and avoiding leaks. On paper, it could have been pretty terrible, but to him it was magic. He was moving into a house, and not even that he’d have his own room.
Despite his otherwise haphazard existence, his first six years on the road had made him a fairly tidy packer. He could be in and out of a space in three minutes, four tops. It was a skill that was already serving him well on the force, and would for years to come. His siblings however, spent all of their formative years in a home and despite their many travels, did not obtain the same skill set.
This was precisely why Bumi was largely unsurprised when he rounded the corner to his sibling’s guest room and saw a slew of bags poking out the open door. Since his therapist, his mother, and her staff had all deemed Bumi “out of the woods,” his siblings would be leaving today with the Beifongs so they could ease back into their “normal” lives. Thankfully or unthankfully- depending on who he’d asked- they would only have a few more weeks of school before going on summer vacation. Toph had declared that they would leave at 10:30, and it was currently 10:15.
Their room was so crowded with clothes, jewelry, and other supplies he could barely see the floor. While they often attributed their mess to the fact that they had to share and he did not, Bumi wouldn’t hear it. He’d served his time housing all of his belongings in a single pack until he was seven. In fact, when they finally moved, the prospect of his own room in his own house - not just the guest room at the palace- had been so exciting, so enticing that at first that he could barely picture how to fill it.
Kya and Tenzin, both wearing old tunics he’d recognized as his and Izumi’s hand-me-downs, were so consumed by packing they didn’t notice Bumi standing in the doorway until he cleared his throat.
Kya raised an eyebrow, unenthused by the smirk creeping over his face. “What are you doing?” She asked, frowning. Her short hair was down, showing off the tighter curls that had formed post-cut. Bumi wanted to make a joke about how they had the same haircut, but he hadn’t quite found his angle yet. For now, he refrained.
“I’m seeing you off.” Bumi explained, side-stepping one of their packs to sit on Kya’s bed. Surprisingly, both of them had been made.
“I’m still packing.” Tenzin said, over his shoulder. On his bed, he’d carefully folded each of the robes he’d worn during council meetings, and was placing them all in different, individual bags.
“Yeah, which is taking forever.” Kya complained, tossing a handful of clothes into a duffel. They always seemed to leave with more clothes than they came with on their trips back to the city.
Bumi could still remember unpacking his sister’s boxes on Air Temple Island. All of their things were coming from different places, different hubs that his parents had called home for nearly a decade. For whatever reason, most of Kya’s things were sent from the Earth Kingdom, and mixed in with all of the gifts the crown had given them over the years. He’d had to sort through so many pictures, stuffed animals of the royal bear, and various green robes in search of a book she’d tasked him to find. Growing impatient, the then-toddler picked up the box and shook out all of it’s insides. At the palace, Bumi smiled as his sister scooped up another pile of things and shoved it in her bag. It seemed her cavalier attitude toward worldly possessions was still holding strong.
“Don’t you leave in like ten minutes?” Bumi asked, glancing at the clock on the wall. He would never take his vision for granted again. Boy, had he missed that.
Tenzin turned, already pinker in the face. “I have an entirely new wardrobe!” He snapped. Bumi’s eyes widened as his voice started to bounce off of the walls. “These robes are one of a kind and if I don’t-”
“Okay, okay.” Bumi put a hand up, settling him.“Sorry I asked.”
Bumi realized that Tenzin was an air bender the week they moved to the island. He didn’t tell his parents though, because it wasn’t something he felt like he could explain. He could just feel it. It wasn’t just the screaming-although that helped- but everything. And maybe without the storm, without spending ever second with the baby, he wouldn’t have noticed, but he did. Tenzin was so impossibly small, the smallest baby he’d ever seen, and he moved like he weighed nothing. Every shake, every hand hold was so impossibly light. Even the way he cried seemed like he was moving with the air, with the world, instead of just taking it in. Like he didn’t just need to breathe to live, but that the air needed him too. He was just… different.
“It’s fine.” Tenzin dismissed, already calming down. His defensiveness told Bumi he’d been preparing for a fight. Maybe those meetings had been affecting him. Then again, he shared a room with Kya, who who was trying her best to look nonchalant as he spun out. “I just have to focus.” He affirmed, refolding one of his robes, which had wrinkled in his hands.
Kya clicked her tongue, getting Bumi’s attention. “If you’re here can you help me find my hair band?” She asked, already scanning the floor. “I don’t need it anymore but it was moms, so...”
Bumi obliged, opting to look through the bag on her bed beside him than lower all the way to the floor. Baby steps. In the bag were a myriad of ribbons, cuffs, and other hair pieces from the Water Tribe, all that worked best for long hair. “You know, if you wanted, I could braid in one of my beads.” Bumi offered. From the first moment she could, Kya had had something in her hair from their mother’s culture. She’d had so many clips, ties, and tassels over the years that it was almost shocking to see her hair without a spot of Water Tribe blue.
Kya’s eyes lit up, almost cautiously. “Really?” She questioned.
“Yeah.” Bumi smiled. “I have some in my room. Grandpa always brings extra for me.” The beads Bumi wore were almost exclusively gifted from his grandfather and uncle, worn traditionally by men in the tribe. But that rule was ancient, and Bumi didn’t think Kya would have a problem breaking it. Tenzin had some too, somewhere, but never as many.
“Okay.” Kya nodded. “I’ll grab them.”
Bumi was almost sure Kya ran there, given how quickly she returned with the beads and comb in hand. In seconds, she was sitting carefully in front of him on the bed, ready for him to begin. As he combed through her hair, Kya selected her beads, combing through his collection with an eagle eye. It always surprised Bumi how quickly you could fall into a familiar rhythm. The week they moved to the island, Katara braided his hair in the doorway to their “back yard.” She said it was because they didn’t have furniture in their rooms yet, but Bumi was fairly certain it was because of how much she loved the rain. Bumi sat on the steps, shielded from the rain, as his mother worked. He still remembered looking out across the island, the thick brush swaying in the wind and beyond that the rough ocean waves, looking as white as it did blue in all the chopping. Tenzin had been there then, too, sitting on her lap. Simultaneously apart of it, and not at all.
As Bumi wove in the bead his sister selected, he glanced over at his brother, still working away. He had gone silent, both in voice and in his movements. When he wanted to, he could almost disappear. “We can put one on your bracelet Tez.” Bumi offered, nodding to his new bag of beads. His grandfather hadn’t known about Tenzin’s haircut before he came, yet he’d only brought beads for Bumi. In his defense, Bumi hadn’t asked, or thought about it at all. Not until now.
Tenzin’s back was to him, but Bumi could still see his shoulders creeping up to his ears. “Oh you don’t have to.” He sighed, placing another orange robe into his bag.
Bumi shook his head.“Sorry,” he said, pulling two beads out of the bag. “Too late. I’m doing it.” If he and Kya were going to match, as they often could, Tenzin would too. If there was one thing he wasn’t doing, it was being another person boxing his brother out of his own culture. One day, Bumi was sure, Tenzin would return the favor. One day, after all, he would hold the keys to their home.
With a tentative eagerness, Tenzin took a seat beside his sister and extended out his wrist. Each of them had a unique bracelet, woven with oranges and blues, that their had made. The bracelets were apart of an Air Nomad custom, symbolizing a milestone they would have reached at the temples at age thirteen. Bumi wasn’t exactly sure which- a product of his frustration and indifference during his teen years- but he knew it would have been impossible for any of them to actually meet it. They’d had the ceremony nonetheless. Kya wore hers for special Air Nomad occasions and their fathers birthday. Bumi didn’t wear his, but always moved it with him, keeping it close. Tenzin never took his off.
“So, where are you going after mom comes back?” Tenzin asked, watching intently as Bumi added the beads to his strands.
“Oh. I’m going with her.” He explained, twisting bead to ensure it would stay put. “Sorry, I thought they told you guys.”
Kya wiped around, her new beads clanking together with the force. “Back home?” She gawked. “Really?”
Bumi raised an eyebrow. “Is that so hard to believe?” He questioned.
The week they moved to Air Temple Island, Bumi had bragged to anyone who would listen that he’d have his own room. The closest he’d come before then was at the palace, but it seemed the moment he’d graduated from sharing with his parents, his little sister was placed on a mat beside his bed. No, Bumi had never really had his own space. He was triumphant, aching with anticipation for the first night to fall so he could finally experience his freedom. But when it finally came, it wasn’t what he was expecting. It felt weird. It was lonely. Bumi had been willing to suck it up, lest he damage his pride, but before he could fall asleep there was a soft knock at the door, and an even softer whisper from a mess of wispy curls and glowing blue eyes. He moved over without hesitation, and she slid into place.
Tenzin picked at each bead with a tenderness so gentle you’d think they were alive, or as old as their father. “Kind of.” He admitted, chewing his cheek. “Now that you and Izumi are out in the open…”
There was a hesitancy in his voice that pulled on Bumi’s heartstrings. A few days after they moved, Bumi convinced his parents to take the baby with them outside, into the storm. Maybe it was because they’d all been cooped up, or because they were all a little too tired, or because the baby had already proved to be stronger than he looked, but that afternoon they walked out onto the unkempt lawn, Aang with a baby in his arms, Kya’s fingers wrapped around the her mother’s hand, with Bumi leading the way. Together they danced in the showering rain, laughing and splashing and playing together. It had been a long few months, a scary few months, and looking back it was exactly what they needed. Tenzin giggled and Kya hooted and Bumi romped harder than he ever had, all because they were all there, all of them. It was at that moment, in that afternoon, that Bumi realized they were better together. It would be the three of them, from here on out. The three of them forever.
Bumi shook his head, waving off whatever smirks his siblings were giving him. “I want to spend time with some of my other favorite people.” Kya made a face and looked to Tenzin, both equally doubtful. “You know, I just really miss the lady with the jerky cart on Kanna Street, the Fire Flake guy,” he drawled.
Kya shoved his shoulder, lightly, but still. “You’re hilarious.” Tenzin sighed, rolling his eyes.
“I try.” Bumi half-bowed.
Before they could retaliate, there was a knock at the open door. “Kids!” Their father called, stopping at the site of all three of them, crosslegged on the bed. “Hey Boom. Are you guys ready?”
Kya waited for Tenzin to nod before responding, something Bumi had never seen before.“Yeah,” she called back, “we’re ready.”
Bumi looked on as Tenzin helped Kya grab her last bag, as she did a final check under their beds, as they walked to Appa, not quite side by side, but in pace, not letting the other drift too far behind. They’d grown in the last few weeks, more together than apart.They didn’t need him to keep the peace, to look after them in the same way. But that wasn’t all bad, he supposed.
When they finally departed, after hugs and farewells, both Kya and Tenzin waved as they flew into the distance, their beads clattering in the wind. Bumi waved back.
Ember Island, 20 Years Earlier
If the Fire Nation had more than one season, Katara could seriously see herself moving to Ember Island. Over the last six-odd years visiting nearly every corner of the globe, she could confidently say that there was nothing like being by the ocean. She’d spent every night of their trip in the water, long after everyone else had gone to sleep. Then and only then, could it be just the moon, the ocean, herself, and her baby. Her baby. As terrifying it all was, the sea, somehow, was making it a smoother adjustment. They could float together there, effortlessly, just as she knew they would when they came earthside.
It was difficult to imagine now, a few days into the trip, that they ever hesitated coming. When they’d first found out in Omashu, both Aang and Katara found the idea of a group trip to be overwhelming. They had plans to grow their family, but not this minute. Their plan was to wait, to just be for a little while. Parting with that plan would be doable - it would have to be - but adding the chaos of a group vacation on top of it all was giving them pause. Aang had said it was her choice, and Katara gave the go ahead. Ultimately, it was simple. It was Zuko’s birthday. She could manage.
If you’re sure, Aang had said, his voice fraught with hesitation. His forehead was wrinkled in the way that distorted his tattoo. Twenty had been good to them so far, but their teen years had already caused more wear than they’d like to admit. Sometimes, she wondered if he’d be grey if he didn’t have a shaved head. After last week, probably.
As they soon learned, a week where they could truly unwind, surrounded by their nearest and dearest, was exactly what they needed. Instead of using the old royal beach house, Zuko and Mai had purchased a slightly more modest home down the beach, built with enough rooms for all their friends. The house quickly became one of their group’s favorite spaces, despite the fact though they spent most of their time on the beach, in the water by day and around the fire at night.
However, this year Katara found herself inside more than ever before. It seemed like with every passing day, the heat was getting to her quicker and quicker. She’d known to expect sensitivities, but the thought of it already impacting her life was a harder pill to swallow than she’d care to admit. Her friends had noticed, of course they had, but no one had brought it up yet, thank Yue.
Aang, in his infinite wisdom, thought to tell them that they were meditating together in the afternoons now - which was half true. Aang would never pass up an opportunity, and Katara was laying quietly, technically.
Katara was reading one of Zuko’s books, a whirlwind romance novel none of his court could ever know was in his possession, when she heard a soft knock at her door. Everyone else was down at the beach, but even if they weren’t she knew who it was. She always knew when it was him.
“Hey.” Katara called, as he opened the door.
“Hey.” Aang shot her a quick smile as he shuffled in. He was wearing his favorite pair of swim shorts, a gift from his friend Bumi. They were just a little too big on his, despite how he’d filled out in the last few years, and always hug heavy at the waist. Katara didn’t own much green, but she always managed to end up wearing her sage sundress on the same day. She wondered, incredibly briefly, if any of the stands in town would carry a green baby bathing suit for next summer.
Wow. That’ll be next summer.
“How was your session?” Katara asked, leaning her head back on the dashboard. If there was one thing the Fire Nation knew how to do, it was make a good bed.
“Good. Great.” Aang muttered. He was still standing at the door, hovering almost. Katara raised an eyebrow. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m good.” Katara said, slowly. Bringing her knees to her chest, she made room for him to sit, if he please. He didn’t. “Just resting. You know, this book is wild,” she drawled on, getting only nods from her partner. Katara nearly laughed. Somehow, he was a brilliant liar, but a terrible secret keeper. “Okay, what’s going on?”
Aang’s eyes grew wide. His face stilled, frozen and unreadable as he decided how to proceed.“I told Roku.” He sputtered at last.
Katara sat up. “What?”
Aang crumpled, almost instantly, into the bed beside her. “Is that okay?” He rambled, running both hands over his head. His shoulders crept up to his ears, riddled with anxiety. “I just realized I didn’t ask, and we’re not telling anyone else and-”
Katara gathered his hands in hers, forcing him to breathe. “Aang, honey, it’s okay.” She nodded. “I mean, Roku is you, sort of, so technically you didn’t tell. And even if you did tell someone, that would be okay too.”
Aang sighed, she could practically see the tension dissipating off his body. “Thanks. I just… I don’t know, I didn’t want to mess this up.”
“There’s no way you could, babe.” Katara affirmed. Together, they relaxed back onto the bed, sliding into their respective sides. “He’s happy for us.” Aang said softly. His arm was wrapped casually around her shoulders, her head snug on his chest. “He was a little surprised, but good surprised.”
“The feeling’s mutual.” Katara murmured, cuddling deeper into the embrace. She could hear the waves crashing on the beach outside, and without realizing was breathing in time of the ebb and flow of the tides. Their room seemed to be enveloped of a stillness they seamlessly fell into.
“It was nice to tell him.” Aang continued, his head resting on hers. She could feel his breath on the top of her head, rising in and out longer than anyone else she knew. “They both know now. Bumi and Roku.” He muttered. Katara pulled his arm in closer.
Katara turned back, sitting up on her side to face him. “That’s really great, Aang.” She nodded, looking him square into his endless eyes. “I’m really glad you’ve told them both.” There was a piece he left unspoken, a piece he would carry until he was ready to let her hold it with him. Even in their happiest moments, there would be loss, too. His people, not just air benders but his people, his family from before would never meet their child. She knew the feeling, she’d felt it, her own version. They’d carry it together, someday soon. But not today.
Aang sighed, his face turning from enigmatic to animated in seconds. “How are you feeling?” He asked, sitting up, far more chipper.
Katara wrinkled her nose. “You already asked me that.”
“Sorry.” Aang cringed. Ever since they’d heard the news, he started to change his behavior with her. Right now, it was small things, less twirls, soft, borderline-awful passes while sparring, and of course, the questions. But she had a feeling this was only the beginning.
“I’m fine, we’re fine.” Katara assured, settling back. “I’m just tried.”
“Want me to go?” He asked, carefully.
“No.” Katara took his arm and wrapped it back around her. He gladly obliged, sinking deeper into the pillows.“Never.”
“Okay.” Aang drawled. His free hand crept tentatively towards her stomach. After a nod of affirmation, he let it settle. “Any more thoughts on the timeline?” He asked quietly.
Katara frowned. “Not really.” The question of when to tell their friends had been a topic of debate since the second they left the clinic in Omashu. They wanted to, of course they wanted to, but the stillness, the bubble they shared right now, felt so precious, so vital to making it through this next chapter. “But this trip it just feels like… I don’t know, maybe we wait? Am I crazy?”
“No.” Aang assured, giving her a quick kiss.“Never. Whatever feels good, let’s do that.”
The rest of the day passed by quickly, with a far too competitive after-lunch volleyball game easing right into another fire-roasted dinner and bonfire. Conversation flowed, drinks were poured and snacks were torn through as they waited for their kebabs to crisp.
The main topic that had captured and consumed their group for nearly a year, was the upcoming wedding between the Fire Lord and Lady. Talk of their preparations and rituals made Katara’s three ceremonies feel casual, cringing deeply as she huddled under a blanket beside Aang.
Mai, however, seemed to be in good spirits as she regaled their latest venue-related endeavor across the fire. “Last week were talking to my mom about the seating, because there is nothing else I do these days,” she grumbled, pouring herself and Zuko another glass of imported wine. “My mom just became so confused about the plating for our tables and we couldn’t understand why she kept changing things, until we realized that we were referring to all of you as family.”
“Oh. I’ve run into that.” Toph echoed, sipping her glass on a log beside Suki, who was roasting both of their kebabs. “My mom doesn’t really get it. Very classic war-era conservatism. How do you the rest of you guys refer to us when you’re with your parents or other people?” She asked.
A silence fell over the group as they thought, the air only consumed by the crackle of the fire. Sokka spoke first “Family.” He affirmed. As a self-proclaimed grill master, he had his own log, accompanied by all of the fixings and skewers. Katara would be the last to commend him on his newfound cooking abilities, but he’d managed to construct an elaborate and somewhat tasty array of things that even her uneasy stomach could tolerate.
“Family, yeah.” Suki concluded, picking her sticks out of the fire for inspection.
“Our dad and Gran Gran have always gotten it, I think.” Sokka elaborated, glancing to Katara for confirmation, who agreed. “But the South is different.”
“I mean is there another word?” Suki asked, passing Toph’s stick back to her, which had far fewer vegetables than Katara would like, but she held her tongue. “We’re way more than friends at this point.”
“I guess I really use family and friends interchangeably. But I think that’s because family has always been made up of friends. ” Aang spoke up, shifting under the blanket beside her. They all quieted, turning to listen to his unique perspective. “What matters is that you’re all people I love, endlessly.” Katara kissed him, earning a mock groan from the crowd.
“Awww Aang loves us.” Toph drawled.
“I think I define family really as who you take care of, but also become the people you escape to. The people you’re safest with.” Zuko pipped up, his eyes focused on the fire as he spoke. “When I have news, I want to tell you guys first.”
Katara felt Aang still beside her, for only a moment.
“Exactly, you’re who I want to share things with.” Toph raised her glass, grinning. “You guys, you’re my people.” The others raised their glasses along with her, echoing her phrase.
Katara’s heart pounded in her chest. The conversation was not a new one, but they never seemed to have the vocabulary, or the time, to speak at such length. Since the end of the war, and even before, it was clear to Katara that they all loved each other, and always would. They could give each other what they all so desperately needed. They’d be dependable, be supportive, be there for the good and the bad.
Aang was already looking at Katara when she turned to face him, a knowing look in his eye. Neither of them had to speak, only exchange a subtle smile and a squeezed hand.“I couldn’t have said it better, Toph.” Aang chocked out, already swallowing back happy tears.
“Katara?” Sokka inquired, motioning his glass towards her with a childish smirk. “No interjection of love? This is right up you’re alley.” He was echoed with a chorus of cheers and affirmations from the group.
Katara looked to Aang, who gave her a final nod, and took a deep breath.
This group, these ridiculous, brilliant, exceptional people, they were her home. They were his home. They would be the baby’s home, too.
“Okay, okay. I agree with all of it. This circle, you guys are my family.” Katara smiled, tears already forming in her eyes. Her chest swelled with every word. Her and Aang’s lives may have changed when they heard the news at the clinic, but it was this moment, here, this felt like the real beginning. This was start of the rest of their lives, and for the first time she felt ready. “And as my family, as our family, Aang and I actually have something we’ve been wanting to tell you guys…”
The End.