Four days remained until the banquet. Unfortunately, that still meant four more days of diplomats, nobles, wealthy merchants, political manoeuvring, and enough forced social interaction to make [Y/n] want to throw himself into the ocean.
Earlier that evening, Sokka and Katara had finally arrived alongside Chief Hakoda, Malina, and the rest of the Southern Water Tribe delegation, while Toph trailed in not long after alongside Satoru and a collection of Earth Kingdom nobles and businessmen. Their arrival had immediately been followed by an enormous welcome dinner attended by enough Southern Water Tribe officials, Earth Kingdom nobles, and wealthy business owners to make [Y/n] consider faking another lightning injury just to escape. By the time the event finally ended, everyone involved had looked ready to collapse.
Now, thankfully, the group had escaped to a familiar pavilion for a few hours of peace before inevitably being dragged back into banquet preparations and diplomatic obligations. For the first time in weeks, [Y/n] had no paperwork in front of him. He intended to enjoy every second of it.
Unfortunately for Sokka, that enjoyment currently involved completely destroying him at Pai Sho. The Water Tribe strategist stared at the board with increasing disbelief.
"You cheated."
"I didn't."
"You totally cheated."
"I totally didn't."
Sokka glared across the board. [Y/n] didn't even look up from the tiles he was studying; he simply moved one piece. Sokka's eye twitched.
Across the pavilion, Katara sat near one of the open windows with a cup of tea while Aang enthusiastically recounted Appa's experience being pampered by an entire staff of palace servants. Nearby, Suki lounged comfortably on a cushion while Toph occupied an entire section of the room by herself, casually dismantling a decorative stone sculpture because she claimed it was "ugly anyway". Not that she could even see it in the first place.
Meanwhile, Zuko sat close enough to watch the game, which meant he was also close enough to enjoy Sokka's suffering. Sokka continued to stare at the Pai Sho board with the intense concentration of a man trying to disarm a bomb. Unfortunately, the board was winning. Across from him, [Y/n] calmly moved another tile into place before leaning back slightly.
"You're doing better than Zuko usually does." It was meant as genuine praise. Sokka looked up immediately. Then he looked at the board. Then at [Y/n]. Then over at the Fire Lord sitting nearby.
"That means absolutely nothing." The response came so quickly that it was obvious he hadn't even needed to think about it. A moment later, he pointed accusingly toward Zuko. "I've seen him play. That's not a benchmark. That's a warning label." Across the pavilion, Zuko looked personally attacked.
"Excuse me?" The Fire Lord sat up straighter, offended indignation written all over his face. "I'm not that bad."
"You absolutely are." Sokka replied without missing a beat. "Half your strategy is hoping [Y/n] gets distracted halfway through the game."
"That's not true."
"It is true."
"It's not."
"We all know, stop lying to yourself." Sokka turned back toward the board and pointed at one of [Y/n]'s pieces. "See? That's a real strategy. You just move pieces around until something happens." Zuko looked horrified by the accusation. Meanwhile, [Y/n] quietly sipped his tea and decided not to mention that Sokka had accidentally described about seventy per cent of Zuko's Pai Sho career with alarming accuracy. Around the pavilion, everyone else was already laughing while Zuko sat there looking increasingly betrayed by every single person present before leaning forward to give Sokka a piece of his mind.
The argument escalated instantly.
Katara closed her eyes. Aang laughed. Suki looked delighted. Toph snorted from her corner. And [Y/n], for perhaps the first time in weeks, simply sat back, listened to the chaos around him, and enjoyed the rare peace of being surrounded by people who didn't want to drag him to a thousand meetings, force him to take a wife and make him want to dive into a volcano. Even if half of that peace currently involved Sokka and Zuko arguing about board games.
While Sokka and Zuko continued arguing, neither of them noticed [Y/n] calmly reaching forward and making his next move. The strategist placed the tile down, took a sip of tea, and waited. A few seconds later, Sokka finally looked back at the board. His eyes scanned it once. Then twice. Then a third time. The colour slowly drained from his face.
"...No."
"Yes." [Y/n] smiled faintly. Sokka stared in horror as the reality set in. During the thirty seconds he'd spent insulting Zuko's Pai Sho skills, he'd completely missed the fact that [Y/n] had manoeuvred him into a checkmate. The Water Tribe strategist immediately dropped his forehead onto the table with a groan of pure misery. Across the pavilion, Zuko's irritation instantly vanished as he burst out laughing.
"You know..." The Fire Lord said with far too much satisfaction. "That means you lost to someone who's only slightly better than me."
"In what world am I only slightly better than you?" His voice was quiet, but the offence on [Y/n]'s face was so loud it bordered on screaming.
"I hate both of you." Sokka muttered into the table. The resulting laughter from the others echoed throughout the pavilion. And for a little while, with no paperwork, no meetings, and no nobles demanding things from them, everyone simply enjoyed it.
Sokka stared at the board for several more seconds, desperately searching for a move that didn't end with his complete and utter defeat. Eventually, he let out a long groan and dropped backwards onto the cushion behind him.
"This is ridiculous." He pointed accusingly at [Y/n]. "Zuko was right. [Y/n] is an absolute freak when it comes to strategy." An irk mark instantly appeared on the strategist's forehead. Slowly, very slowly, he turned his head toward the Fire Lord. Across the room, Zuko visibly froze.
"Your Majesty?"
"I didn't say freak." The response came far too quickly. The Fire Lord immediately threw both hands into the air. "I swear I didn't." The fact that he was defending the specific word rather than the accusation itself only made it worse. "I said you were terrifying." Apparently, that was the hill he planned to die on. The pavilion erupted into laughter while [Y/n] buried his face in one hand. Before the strategist could decide whether or not to throw a Pai Sho tile at the Fire Lord, Toph leaned forward with a grin.
"Speaking of terrifying things..." Every instinct in both Zuko's and [Y/n]'s bodies immediately told them they weren't going to like where this was going. "How's the wife hunting going?" Both men groaned simultaneously, loud enough to rattle the walls. The reaction was so immediate that everyone else started laughing before either of them could respond. "That's not an answer." Toph pointed out.
"It's the only answer you're getting." [Y/n] muttered into his hands. Across the room, Zuko looked equally miserable.
"It's awful."
"Every conversation somehow turns into marriage."
"Every noble family suddenly has a daughter."
"Or a niece."
"Or a cousin."
"Or a family friend."
Both men exchanged a look of complete understanding. The rest of the pavilion was having far too much fun with this. Suki was openly laughing. Katara looked seconds away from joining her.
"I don't know." Sokka said. "Sounds like a pretty good problem to have." Both Zuko and [Y/n] turned toward him with identical expressions of betrayal. His girlfriend, however, seemed a little less impressed.
"Oh, does it now?" Suki asked, immediately causing Sokka to whip his head back toward her with a strained smile and enough fear in his eyes to constitute panic. The Water Tribe strategist immediately held up his hands.
"Okay, okay, bad example, my beautiful, smart, wonderful, talented girlfriend who I love more than life itself." Sokka's panicked ramblings were met with a hearty chuckle from Suki, who let the irritated look drop and shook her head, assuring him that she was just teasing.
Toph had been content to watch Sokka suffer for exactly thirty seconds before deciding she wanted some more entertaining targets. Unfortunately, those targets were [Y/n] and Zuko. The earthbender leaned back against one of the pavilion pillars and crossed her arms behind her head.
"So..." The single word immediately filled both men with dread. "Have either of you got the hots for anyone who's coming to the banquet?" The effect was immediate. The room went silent. Completely silent. Sokka stopped laughing. Katara lowered her teacup. Suki looked delighted. Aang blinked in confusion. Meanwhile, [Y/n] froze. His brain seemed to stop working for a moment. Before he could think better of it, his eyes flicked toward Zuko. At exactly the same moment, Zuko looked toward him. Their eyes met. For one horrifying second, neither moved.
Then both immediately looked away.
Toph's grin became absolutely vicious.
"Oh." The sound was pure satisfaction. "Oh, that's interesting." [Y/n] felt his stomach drop. Across the room, Zuko suddenly looked ready to either kill himself or Toph, and he was clearly debating which was the better option.
Neither of them noticed the looks everyone else was exchanging. Toph, however, noticed everything. Or rather, she felt it. The brief silence. The sudden spike in heartbeats. The panic. The embarrassment. The immediate retreat.
She practically radiated smugness.
"Wow."
"Toph."
"No, seriously."
"Toph."
"This is amazing." Toph beamed while Katara pinched the bridge of her nose. Suki was trying, and failing, not to laugh. "Alright then..." Toph smirked as she leaned forward.
"No."
"I haven't asked anything yet."
"You don't need to."
"What about your type?" The earthbender ignored him completely.
"No." The response came from both men simultaneously. [Y/n] groaned. Toph continued mercilessly.
"Come on." She pointed vaguely toward them. "Smart?" Neither answered. "Funny?" Nothing. "Pretty?" Still nothing. "Strong?" Silence. "Someone you've known for a long time?" Both men visibly stiffened. The grin returned. "Oh, that's definitely something."
"Toph."
"I'm just saying."
"Stop saying."
"I'm not even doing anything."
"You're doing everything."
The earthbender laughed. The sound immediately told everyone she had no intention whatsoever of stopping. In fact, the more both men refused to answer, the more determined she became.
"Okay, new question."
"No."
"What's the most attractive quality someone can have?"
"No."
"What's your favourite eye colour?"
"No."
"Do either of you-"
"No."
The synchronised answer made Sokka nearly choke. Aang looked increasingly sympathetic. Katara was trying very hard to be responsible but was clearly enjoying the show more than she was willing to admit. Suki had given up entirely and was openly enjoying the chaos. And through all of it, Toph remained relentless. Because she could feel every heartbeat. Every nervous reaction. Every awkward silence. And as far as she was concerned, tormenting the Fire Lord and his Chief Strategist was vastly more entertaining than watching Pai Sho. Toph looked absolutely delighted.
"Oh, this is way more fun than I thought it'd be."
The questioning continued. Every answer was a deflection. Every attempt to change the subject failed. And every time either man started to answer, they somehow ended up glancing at the other before immediately looking away again. Unfortunately, Toph was probably the worst possible person to do that around.
The earthbender's smile became downright dangerous. Then she casually tapped her foot against the floor once, twice, three times. The movement looked innocent enough to anyone who didn't know her. Unfortunately, everyone in the pavilion knew exactly what it meant.
"Oh wow!" She said, her voice dripping with fake innocence. "That's so weird!" Every instinct in [Y/n]'s body immediately screamed at him to run.
"Toph." He warned. She ignored him completely. In fact, she sounded delighted.
"Both your heartbeats are going totally crazy."
The pavilion fell silent. Again. [Y/n] felt his entire body lock up. His brain immediately latched onto the worst possible interpretation.
Angi... Shit, shit, SHIT! His heartbeat was loud. Way too loud. Could everyone hear it? No. Nobody could hear it. Only Toph could. Probably. Hopefully. His mind immediately began spiralling through every embarrassing possibility at once. Did she somehow know? Could she tell? Was it obvious? Was everyone looking at him? Should he say something? Would saying something somehow make it worse? The answer was definitely yes.
So instead, he settled for staring very intensely at the Pai Sho board in front of him as though it contained the secrets of the universe. Unfortunately, that only made him look guiltier. What he completely failed to register was the most important part of what Toph had actually said. Both. Not him. Both of them.
Across the pavilion, Zuko had frozen just as thoroughly. The Fire Lord had been doing a surprisingly good job surviving Toph's interrogation until that exact moment. Now, however, his shoulders had gone rigid, his ears were steadily turning red, and he had suddenly become fascinated by a completely unremarkable section of wall. Suki noticed immediately. Katara noticed immediately. Sokka noticed immediately. Aang noticed immediately. The only two people who seemed completely oblivious were the two people involved. [Y/n] was too busy internally imploding, and Zuko was too busy doing exactly the same thing. Meanwhile, Toph looked like she'd just won a championship.
"Oh, that's even better." She cheered, resting her chin on her hand.
"Toph." Katara sighed through a laugh, trying to seem mature about the whole thing, but the obvious amusement on her face betrayed her. The earthbender ignored her. Again.
"I'm just making observations."
"You're causing problems."
"Same thing."
Sokka immediately burst out laughing while Suki leaned on him, her shoulders shaking. Meanwhile, [Y/n] sat there silently cursing every spirit, deity, and cosmic force responsible for giving Toph Beifong seismic sense. Because as far as he was concerned, this entire disaster was happening exclusively to him. The possibility that Zuko was having the exact same reaction never even crossed his mind. Unfortunately for him, everyone else in the pavilion could see it perfectly clearly. Which only made Toph's grin wider.
The entire group exchanged glances. Quick. Subtle. Knowing. Eyes flicking between the Fire Lord and his Chief Strategist. Neither man noticed. Or perhaps they were too busy avoiding looking at each other to realise everyone else already had.
Unfortunately, that didn't stop [Y/n]'s internal suffering. Because while everyone else was amused, he was busy trying not to implode. Every question Toph asked felt like another attack. Every smug comment felt like a direct assault on his remaining dignity. And every mention of romance made the stupid feelings he'd spent weeks trying to bury push their way back to the surface.
Agni, he hated this.
He hated Toph. He hated that she could hear heartbeats. He hated that she was enjoying this. Most of all, he hated that part of him was terrified she was going to accidentally say something that would expose everything.
Seeing the perfect opportunity to make things worse, Sokka immediately leaned forward. The grin on his face alone should have been enough warning for everyone present.
"You know..." He started casually. "Toph brings up an interesting point." Zuko instantly looked suspicious.
"No, she doesn't."
"I think she does." The Water Tribe strategist ignored him completely. Instead, he turned his attention toward the Fire Lord. "What kind of woman do you think [Y/n] is into?" The effect was immediate. Zuko almost choked on absolutely nothing. One second, he had been sitting there quietly trying to survive Toph's interrogation. The next, he was coughing into his fist while staring at Sokka like he'd just declared war. Across the pavilion, [Y/n] looked equally horrified.
"What kind of question is that?!"
"A perfectly reasonable one." Sokka replied, entirely too pleased with himself. "You must know." Zuko's expression suggested he was contemplating murder.
"Sokka."
"You've known each other since you were kids."
"Sokka."
"You spend practically every day together."
"Sokka."
"You're about as close as two people can get."
The Fire Lord looked ready to launch himself across the table. Meanwhile, Toph looked delighted. Suki looked stupidly proud of her boyfriend. Katara was trying to hide her smile. And Aang was watching the exchange with the fascination of someone observing a very strange species in the wild.
Before Sokka could push his luck any further, [Y/n] abruptly stood up. The movement caught everyone's attention immediately. Without a word to the Water Tribe strategist, he crossed the pavilion and stopped beside Katara.
"Katara, could you take a look at this?" The waterbender looked up from her tea. [Y/n] rolled up his sleeve and very deliberately raised his arm high enough for everyone to see.
"Your arm?" Katara blinked.
"Yes." The strategist nodded seriously. Then, loud enough for the entire pavilion to hear, added: "Your boyfriend almost killed me a few days ago."
The room was silent for a single heartbeat before it exploded into reactions.
"What?!" Katara was on her feet instantly.
"[Y/n]!" Aang looked horrified before turning to Katara to explain his side of it. "It wasn't like that!" The Avatar practically launched himself across the room. "I didn't almost kill him!"
"You electrocuted me."
"By accident!"
"It still counts."
Meanwhile, Katara had already grabbed [Y/n]'s arm and was examining it closely. The remaining burns weren't particularly severe anymore, but they were still visible enough to make her frown.
"Aang." The warning in her voice made the Avatar wince.
"It wasn't my fault!"
"It was a little your fault."
"AANG!"
Katara guided water over the burns while Aang desperately tried to explain exactly how the training accident had happened. The conversation immediately consumed everyone's attention. Which had been [Y/n]'s plan from the beginning. And it turns out, he wasn't the only one relieved by the distraction.
Across the room, Zuko sat back slightly. A small part of him felt guilty for it. A very small part. After all, [Y/n] had gotten burned, which resulted in him practically sprinting toward the medical bay to scream at him when he found out. But another part of him was deeply grateful that the conversation had been redirected before Sokka could ask another question.
The relief lasted exactly three seconds. Then he looked across the pavilion and caught Sokka watching him. Smirking. The Fire Lord immediately sent him a death glare. Sokka's grin widened. Instead of looking intimidated, he simply wiggled his eyebrows, slow and knowingly. With all the subtlety of a battering ram. With the confidence of a man who knew far more than he should. The knowing grin never left his face for even a second.
Zuko immediately regretted ever inviting him.
And while Katara continued healing his arm and Aang continued defending his innocence, [Y/n] remained blissfully unaware that his attempt to save Zuko from the conversation had only made Sokka even more convinced that something was going on.
Which was probably for the best.
Because if he had noticed, there was a very real chance Sokka would have ended up being the second person struck by lightning that week.
~*~
The next morning found the group gathered around the private training yard again. Unlike the previous lesson, however, Aang had acquired an audience. Sokka, Katara, Toph, Suki, and Zuko occupied various spots around the edge of the training grounds while [Y/n] stood opposite the Avatar. The strategist had insisted that nobody interfere. Naturally, this had translated into everyone providing commentary instead.
"His stance looks weird." Toph remarked.
"You can't even see it." Katara replied.
"Exactly. Weird."
"Remember what we talked about." Ignoring them all, [Y/n] focused on Aang. The Avatar nodded, eyes already closed. "Stay detached." Another nod. "Don't get excited if it starts working." A third nod. "And if you start panicking, stop immediately." This time, Aang actually opened one eye.
"That sounds important."
"Because it is. I don't wanna get electrocuted again." The strategist folded his arms. "Now focus." Aang took a deep breath and settled back into the stance. Slowly, he began reaching for the sensation [Y/n] had taught him to find. The positive and negative currents separated. Energy gathered. For several long moments, nothing happened. Then tiny blue sparks crackled between his fingertips. Aang's eyes remained closed, but a grin started creeping onto his face.
Across the training yard, Sokka immediately pointed.
"Look at that." Everyone turned. The sparks jumped again. The Water Tribe strategist grinned. "He's already better than Zuko."
WHACK.
Sokka yelped as Zuko's fist connected with his upper arm.
"What was that for?!"
"You know exactly what that was for."
Nearby, Aang somehow managed to maintain his concentration despite the argument breaking out behind him. [Y/n] glanced toward the pair, saw Sokka dramatically clutching his arm while Zuko glared at him, and immediately decided he wasn't being paid enough for this. Then he remembered he technically wasn't being paid for this at all. That realisation somehow made it worse.
"Ignore them." He told Aang.
"I'm trying." The Avatar replied through clenched teeth. Another spark crackled between his fingers. "They're making it difficult." The comment earned a laugh from everyone except Zuko, who was still trying to explain to Sokka why he deserved to be punched.
Aang took a slow breath and continued exactly as [Y/n] had instructed. Instead of letting excitement overwhelm him this time, he carefully guided the energy. The tiny sparks grew larger. Then larger still. Before long, thin streams of blue-white lightning were flowing around his arms and shoulders in controlled arcs. The energy crackled softly as it moved, dancing across his skin without harming him. Aang opened his eyes and cautiously shifted his stance. The lightning moved with him. For a moment, genuine relief crossed his face. He wasn't fighting it anymore. He was controlling it. Nearby, [Y/n] nodded approvingly.
"Good." The praise immediately made Aang smile. "Keep it moving." The strategist stepped beside him and pointed toward one of the reinforced training dummies positioned at the far end of the yard. "Now focus on the target." He raised two fingers and demonstrated the motion. "Direct the energy where you want it to go."
Aang swallowed. The smile immediately faded into concentration. Unlike pointing lightning at [Y/n], a wooden dummy wasn't likely to trigger traumatic memories. At least, that was the theory.
The Avatar slowly mirrored the gesture and aimed toward the target. The lightning crackled around his fingers. His breathing remained steady. His focus narrowed.
"Okay..."
The energy gathered. Then released. A bright bolt shot across the training yard.
Unfortunately, it did not hit the training dummy. It missed by several feet. Instead, the lightning slammed directly into a decorative fountain sitting nearby. There was a brief moment of silence. Then the fountain exploded. Water erupted into the air. Stone shattered. Several decorative fish sculptures were launched in entirely different directions. A spray of water rained across half the training yard.
Everyone stared. Aang stared. The smoking remains of the fountain stared.
Nobody said a word.
Finally, Zuko let out a long, tired sigh. The kind of sigh only a ruler responsible for repair budgets could produce.
"We're going to have to replace that."
The flatness of his voice somehow made it even funnier. For one second, silence remained. Then Toph started laughing. Sokka immediately joined her. Aang covered his face with both hands.
"I missed..."
"Really?" Sokka asked through a fit of laughter. "I hadn't noticed."
"I MISSED."
"On the bright side..." Suki offered, trying not to laugh. "You definitely hit something." Katara buried her face in her hands. Meanwhile, [Y/n] stared at the destroyed fountain for a long moment before looking back at his student.
"...At least it wasn't me this time." That only made everyone laugh harder.
[Y/n] watched with weary resignation as Katara and Toph attempted to repair the fountain. Katara carefully guided the water back into place while Toph reshaped the broken stone sections with practised ease. The result wasn't perfect, but it was significantly less exploded than it had been a few minutes ago. Nearby, Zuko was still staring at the damaged structure with the expression of a man mentally calculating repair costs. Knowing that Zuko was going to make the fountain his problem later, [Y/n] just sighed and forced himself not to think of it as he turned back toward Aang.
"Again?" Aang asked.
"Not yet." [Y/n] shook his head, folding his arms. "This time, let's go back to passing the lightning between us." Aang visibly hesitated. The memory of their last attempt was clearly still fresh in both of their minds. After a few moments, however, he took a deep breath and nodded. "Okay."
This time, Aang generated the lightning himself. The crackling streams flowed around his arms exactly as they'd done moments earlier. His control was noticeably better. His breathing remained steady. The energy obeyed him.
"Good." [Y/n] nodded approvingly before he stepped into position opposite him and extended his own hand. "Now pass it back to me." Aang immediately looked less confident. The crackling energy around him wavered slightly.
"Do we have to?"
"Aang." [Y/n] raised an eyebrow. The Avatar sighed.
"Right." Taking a deep breath, he focused and began guiding the lightning toward [Y/n]. Aang swallowed.
The lightning crackled. For a moment, everything looked perfect. The current flowed through his arms exactly as it was supposed to. His stance was solid. His breathing was steady. The energy reached his fingertips. Then, he raised his fingers, looked toward [Y/n], and froze. The same panic appeared. The same hesitation. The same fear. The Avatar's eyes widened. The lightning surged.
"Aang-" Too late. His arm jerked sideways. A bolt of electricity shot away from [Y/n] entirely. The training dummy he'd failed to hit earlier exploded in a shower of splinters. Wood fragments rained across the training yard.
For a moment, nobody spoke. Bits of smoking wood drifted lazily through the air. The remains of the dummy slowly toppled over. The courtyard fell silent once more before Sokka folded his arms and nodded thoughtfully.
"Well..." The Water Tribe warrior looked at the wreckage. Then at Aang. Then back at the wreckage. "At least you hit it this time." The training yard immediately erupted into laughter. Aang groaned and buried his face in his hands while [Y/n] pinched the bridge of his nose. Nearby, even Zuko was struggling not to smile.
"That wasn't the goal."
"I know."
"You weren't supposed to hit that."
"I know."
"Still counts." Sokka pointed at the smoking remains anyway.
"No, it doesn't." [Y/n] shot back without even sparing him a glance. Toph snorted. Katara shook her head. And somewhere in the distance, a palace servant who was responsible for replacing destroyed training equipment suddenly felt a terrible sense of impending doom.
Eventually, [Y/n] gave up. He watched the smoking remains of yet another training dummy for a few moments before letting out a long sigh and rubbing a hand over his face.
"Sorry." Aang immediately looked guilty.
"Not your fault." [Y/n] pointed across the training yard. "Mostly." Then he turned toward the spectators. "Zuko." The Fire Lord looked up from where he'd been enjoying Aang's suffering far more than was appropriate.
"Hm?" He hummed, and [Y/n] gestured him over.
"Come here. If he can't do it, we may as well show him how it's done." Zuko immediately stood. No questions. No complaints. No hesitation whatsoever. He simply started walking toward the centre of the training yard. The moment he did, Toph's grin became dangerous.
"Hang on." The earthbender tilted her head innocently. Everyone immediately knew she wasn't actually innocent. "Isn't the Fire Lord supposed to be the one giving orders around here?"
The training yard fell silent. Zuko froze mid-step and slowly turned toward her. Toph, naturally, couldn't see the look he was giving her. That didn't stop her from grinning wider. Nearby, Suki immediately decided to make things worse.
"Oh, I don't know." The Kyoshi Warrior rested her chin on her hand thoughtfully. "I can't speak for the Fire Lord and the Chief Strategist..." Her smile widened. "But Zuko seems perfectly happy taking orders from [Y/n]."
The laughter somehow got louder. Sokka nearly doubled over. Katara immediately covered her mouth. Even Aang looked like he was trying, and failing, not to smile. Which left the two men standing there silently contemplating whether setting their friends on fire would be considered an abuse of political authority.
Ignoring the teasing with a sharp huff, Zuko stepped fully into the training yard. The Fire Lord didn't dignify a single comment with a response. Instead, he removed his outer robe and folded it neatly onto a nearby bench before lifting his crown from his head and setting it beside the robe. The simple act immediately seemed to shed the weight of court politics and banquet preparations from his shoulders. Dressed only in his lighter clothing, he rolled one shoulder and walked across from [Y/n].
[Y/n] threw one last glance toward the others. His face felt warmer than it had a minute ago, and judging by the smug expressions on Suki, Toph, and Sokka's faces, they knew it. The strategist pointed at them warningly.
"Not a word." That only made them look more amused.
"We aren't saying anything." Sokka replied.
"You were thinking it." Zuko snapped back.
"Absolutely." Sokka smirked. [Y/n] made a strangled noise and decided that ignoring them was healthier.
"Aang." [Y/n] called out. The Avatar straightened immediately. "Watch carefully." Around the edge of the training yard, the others gradually quieted. Even Toph and Sokka knew better than to interrupt once the demonstration actually began.
[Y/n] let out a slow breath as he turned back to Zuko. For a few moments, neither man spoke. Neither needed to. They had done this too many times before. [Y/n] shifted his footing. Zuko mirrored him automatically. The strategist raised his hands slightly. The Fire Lord adjusted his stance.
No discussion. No explanation. No instructions. Just habit.
Across from them, Aang watched carefully, immediately noticing the difference. There was none of the uncertainty he'd felt while trying to pass lightning himself. No hesitation, no nervousness; just quiet confidence.
Then, [Y/n] calmed himself, centred himself, and finally moved.
Lightning erupted around him.
Unlike the small currents he'd been using during Aang's lessons, this was the real thing. Brilliant blue-white energy crackled around his arms and shoulders, bright enough to illuminate the training yard despite the daylight. The air hummed with power. Tiny arcs danced across the stone beneath his feet. Aang's eyes widened immediately. He'd seen [Y/n] use lightning before, but standing this close while the strategist generated it freely was something else entirely. The energy looked dangerous. Alive. Powerful enough to level a building if mishandled. Yet the thing that surprised him most wasn't the lightning itself.
It was Zuko.
The Fire Lord didn't tense. Didn't flinch. Didn't look concerned in the slightest. He simply stepped into position opposite [Y/n] as though this was the most normal thing in the world.
For a moment, neither man spoke. They simply looked at one another. A brief nod. A glance. An entire conversation exchanged without words. Then [Y/n] raised two fingers and guided the lightning forward. The crackling current drifted across the space between them.
Aang instinctively held his breath. Zuko didn't. The Fire Lord caught the lightning effortlessly. The energy flowed into one arm, across his body, and out the other with practised ease. Before the current had even fully settled, he redirected it back toward [Y/n]. The strategist accepted it just as smoothly and returned it again. Back and forth it went. A continuous stream of crackling energy flowing between them. Neither needed to think about it anymore. All their practice made the movement look almost effortless.
Around the edge of the training yard, the others watched in silence. Even Sokka stopped joking. It was difficult not to be impressed. The lightning moved faster with each pass, yet neither man seemed remotely concerned. To them, it looked as natural as passing a ball between friends.
For the next several minutes, the lightning continued flowing between them. Back and forth. Again and again. Neither man rushed it. Neither seemed particularly concerned by the dangerous energy crackling through the air around them.
To Aang, it looked less like a combat technique and more like a conversation. A silent exchange conducted entirely through movement and trust. Every time the lightning reached one of them, it was accepted without hesitation and returned just as smoothly. Around the edge of the training yard, the others watched in varying degrees of fascination. Katara tilted her head as she followed the flow of the energy.
Aang watched the lightning pass between them for several moments before finally shaking his head.
"I don't get it." The comment drew a glance from Katara.
"What?" She asked, and Aang pointed toward the centre of the training yard, where another stream of crackling blue-white energy flowed from [Y/n] to Zuko and back again.
"How is he so calm?" The Avatar sounded genuinely baffled. "I mean, [Y/n]'s lightning is way stronger than mine." He watched Zuko effortlessly catch and redirect another pass. "And he doesn't even seem nervous." Aang hesitated before lowering his voice slightly. "Especially after everything with Azula." The words made the group fall a little quieter. After all, everyone present knew exactly what he meant. Lightning wasn't just another bending technique for Zuko. It carried memories attached to it. Painful ones. Katara's expression softened as she watched the demonstration.
"I think it's because this isn't really about the lightning." Aang looked confused. Nearby, Suki smiled slightly while Toph smirked. Neither of them missed the thought Katara shared with them.
"Then what's it about?" Aang asked. Katara glanced toward Zuko and [Y/n] again. Neither man seemed particularly focused on the danger of the technique anymore. They were simply following the rhythm they'd practised countless times before.
"Trust." She answered. "Zuko isn't calm because he's forgotten what lightning can do." The waterbender's smile widened slightly. "He's calm because he knows [Y/n] would never let it hurt him." Around them, several members of the group quietly exchanged knowing looks. Meanwhile, Aang simply stared back at the two men, watching another effortless exchange of lightning pass between them.
"...Oh." The Avatar nodded slowly. "That actually makes a lot of sense." None of the others felt the need to mention that it was probably even more obvious than he realised.
For another minute, the lightning continued flowing between them. Neither man seemed to need words. Every movement was familiar. Every pass was anticipated before it happened. Around the edge of the training yard, the others watched in silence while Aang followed every exchange with complete concentration. Eventually, however, the rhythm began to slow. The current lingered a little longer with each pass. The movements became more deliberate. Then, across the crackling stream of energy, [Y/n] and Zuko exchanged one final look. It lasted only a second. A brief nod. A silent understanding. The lesson was over. Zuko guided the lightning through his body one final time before directing it back toward the strategist.
[Y/n] accepted the energy effortlessly. Instead of immediately returning it, however, he allowed it to remain. The blue-white lightning flowed around his arms and shoulders, crackling softly as it danced through the air around him. For a few moments, he simply stood there, letting the current move. The energy circled him in looping trails while he steadied his breathing. Aang watched with fascination. Unlike before, there was no aggression in the technique. No target. No attack. It almost looked peaceful. Then [Y/n] planted his feet firmly against the ground and let out a slow breath.
His hands lowered.
The lightning followed.
The brilliant current gradually unravelled as he guided it downward and outward. Instead of exploding away in a final strike, the energy broke apart into dozens of tiny sparks. They drifted harmlessly through the air around him before fading one by one. To everyone watching, it almost looked like a miniature fireworks display. Small points of blue-white light floated upward on the breeze before disappearing completely. The training yard fell quiet as the last spark vanished. For a moment, nobody spoke. Then Aang's eyes widened.
"That was awesome." He whispered. Meanwhile, [Y/n] simply rolled his shoulders, and Zuko stepped back to retrieve his robe and crown, both of them acting as though they hadn't just turned one of the most dangerous bending techniques in the world into something that looked almost graceful.
The rest of the group watched as [Y/n] and Zuko made their way back toward them. The demonstration was over, the lightning gone, and yet Aang still looked like he'd just witnessed something impossible. Before anyone else could speak, Sokka pointed toward the two men.
"Alright, seriously..."
"What now?" Zuko sighed immediately. Sokka gestured toward the training yard behind them.
"How were you not completely freaked out during any of that?"
"What are you talking about?" Zuko blinked. Sokka stared at him. Then stared harder.
"The lightning." He pointed at [Y/n] as though the answer should be obvious. "His lightning." Another gesture. "The giant crackling death energy flying around the training yard." Zuko continued staring at him blankly. Sokka looked genuinely dumbfounded. "How were you not scared at all?"
The Fire Lord was silent for a moment. Then shrugged. The gesture was so casual that it almost made Sokka more frustrated.
"Because I trust him." The answer came in the exact same tone someone might use to explain why they trusted a chair to stay upright. Simple. Obvious. Self-evident. Zuko looked genuinely confused by the question. "He wasn't going to hurt me." He added, and all Sokka could do in response was stare at him.
"That's it?"
"Yes."
"That's your whole answer?"
"Yes." The Fire Lord frowned slightly. "What else would it be?"
Nearby, [Y/n] suddenly found the training dummies very interesting, silently praying that Toph was too surprised by the display to notice his heartbeat spiking in response to Zuko's unwavering trust in him. Katara, meanwhile, immediately smirked. Without taking her eyes off the pair, she leaned slightly toward Aang. The Avatar looked up. Quietly, just loud enough for him to hear, she whispered into his ear.
"Told you." She smiled. Aang's eyes widened in realisation. Then he looked toward Zuko. Then [Y/n]. Then back to Katara. The Avatar nodded slowly. The smile that spread across Katara's face suggested she'd been waiting for that conclusion.
Unfortunately, neither Zuko nor [Y/n] noticed. One was busy wondering why Sokka was still looking at him like he'd grown a second head. The other was busy trying very hard not to think about the fact that Zuko's answer of unquestionable faith in him had been immediate.
Unfortunately, Zuko kept going.
"I trust him with lightning the same way he trusts me with fire." The answer came immediately. Without hesitation. Without embarrassment. Without seeming to realise how it sounded. "When we train together, he doesn't spend the entire time worrying I'm going to burn him. So why would I spend the entire time worrying he'd electrocute me?" The answer was so straightforward that Aang immediately nodded.
"That makes sense."
"It does." Zuko agreed. Toph's grin widened. Suki immediately covered her mouth. And Sokka... Sokka looked like he'd just been handed the greatest gift in the history of gifts. The Water Tribe warrior slowly turned toward his sister. Then toward Toph. Then toward Suki. Then, finally, toward Aang. The five shared a look. A knowing one.
After several more comments from the group, most of which were entirely unhelpful and seemed specifically designed to make either Zuko or [Y/n] suffer, Aang eventually nodded to himself. As the teasing gradually began to die down, Aang looked back toward the training yard and the shattered remains of yet another unfortunate dummy. Despite everything, the frustration on his face slowly gave way to determination. He straightened his shoulders and nodded firmly.
"I still want to learn." The declaration immediately drew [Y/n]'s attention.
"I know." [Y/n] replied casually, and Aang shook his head.
"No, I mean it. I'll keep trying." There was no hesitation in his voice this time. No uncertainty. Just stubborn determination. The same determination that had carried him through learning the elements in the first place. [Y/n] studied him for a moment before a small smile appeared on his face.
"Good." The strategist nodded approvingly. "Then, I'm happy to keep helping." Aang immediately brightened.
"Thanks, Sifu Sparkleman."
The training yard froze. Again. [Y/n]'s smile vanished instantly. Across from him, Aang looked entirely too pleased with himself. The Avatar's expression had somehow evolved into something dangerously close to a smirk. Slowly, [Y/n] closed his eyes. Then opened them again.
"Aang."
"Yes, Sifu Sparkleman?"
"I still hate that name."
"No, you don't."
"I absolutely do."
"I think you're getting used to it."
"I'm not."
The Avatar's grin widened. Around them, the others had gone suspiciously quiet. Then Sokka cracked first. He nearly folded in half laughing. Toph immediately pointed toward [Y/n] and started laughing. Katara covered her mouth, shoulders shaking. Suki was laughing openly now. Meanwhile, Zuko looked like he was trying very hard to maintain his dignity and failing spectacularly.
"Sifu Sparkleman." He repeated thoughtfully. The Fire Lord's voice was entirely too amused. [Y/n]'s head snapped toward him. Zuko looked far too pleased with himself. The strategist narrowed his eyes.
"Oh, we're doing this?" He asked, raising a brow as if challenging him.
"Sifu Sparkleman." Zuko's smile widened. [Y/n] immediately pointed at him.
"He calls you Sifu Hotman." The amusement vanished from Zuko's face. Instantly. The Fire Lord glared. The strategist glared back. For one brief moment, it looked as though both men were considering their options.
Aang looked immensely proud of himself.
Choosing to ignore the continuing laughter, the strategist pointed toward the centre of the training yard.
"Aang." He called, a dangerous smirk pulling at his lips that immediately made the cause of his easing tense. "Get back into position."
"What about-"
"No."
"But-"
"No."
"Sifu Spar-"
"No."
Aang grinned. The others laughed again. [Y/n] briefly considered electrocuting the Avatar. Instead, he took a deep breath, pointed at the training area, and did his absolute best to pretend the rest of the group didn't exist.
Unfortunately, judging by the way Zuko was still trying not to smile, that was going to be easier said than done.
The next morning arrived far too quickly for [Y/n]'s liking.
The strategist let out a long yawn as he stepped through the gates of the private training grounds, one hand still rubbing sleep from his eyes. The palace was only just beginning to wake up, the early morning sun casting long shadows across the stone courtyard. The sun had only recently risen, bathing the palace in soft gold light. Most of the capital was still waking up, which suited him perfectly. If he was lucky, he'd get at least an hour of peace before somebody remembered he was responsible for half the banquet preparations and came looking for him with reports.
As he stepped through the gate of the training grounds, he immediately spotted Aang. The Avatar was already there, pacing back and forth with the barely-contained energy of someone who had been looking forward to something all night. The moment he noticed [Y/n], his entire face lit up.
"Morning!" Aang beamed.
"You're entirely too awake for this hour." [Y/n] snorted. The Avatar looked entirely unapologetic. As they met in the middle of the courtyard, [Y/n] stretched his shoulders and glanced toward him. "How was dinner?" He asked, and Aang's face immediately brightened.
"Oh, it was great." He replied before pausing for a moment. "Actually, everything's been great." The Avatar rubbed the back of his neck. "I think Zuko went a little overboard."
"A little?" The strategist raised an eyebrow.
"Okay, a lot." Aang laughed. "The room is huge, the food was amazing, and I think Appa has decided he's never leaving." That earned a laugh from [Y/n]. The image of the sky bison discovering that the Fire Nation had assigned an entire team of servants to feed and pamper him was still amusing.
"Yeah, that sounds about right."
"I'm pretty sure Appa likes the palace more than I do." Aang folded his arms while [Y/n] just chuckled. Together, the pair began walking toward the centre of the training yard while [Y/n] gestured toward the open space ahead.
"Let's get started before one of the ministers remembers I exist." He declared, and Aang nodded with a smile. Both of them knew there was a very real chance that, somewhere in the palace at that exact moment, a minister was already searching for [Y/n] with a stack of reports and a new crisis that absolutely could not wait until tomorrow. For now, however, they had a little time, and he intended to use every minute of it before reality inevitably caught up with him again.
Once they reached the centre of the training yard, [Y/n] folded his arms and decided to start with the basics.
"Alright." He started. "Before I start teaching you anything, how much experience do you actually have with lightning?" He asked, and Aang immediately brightened.
"Zuko taught me lightning redirection." The strategist nodded for him to continue. "I got pretty good at it too. During Sozin's Comet, I redirected Ozai's lightning back into the sky." The statement was delivered casually, but [Y/n]'s eyebrows still rose slightly. That wasn't a small achievement. Redirecting lightning at all was difficult. Doing it against one of the most powerful firebenders in the world during Sozin's Comet while fighting for your life was something else entirely.
"That's impressive." [Y/n] said honestly. "A lot more impressive than you're making it sound." Aang rubbed the back of his neck, looking slightly embarrassed by the praise. The strategist smiled faintly. "And it's a great starting point." He gestured toward the training yard around them. "Redirection teaches you how lightning feels moving through your body, which is one of the hardest parts for most people to understand." Aang looked pleased by that. For a moment, it seemed as though the lesson was off to a promising start. Then the Avatar awkwardly cleared his throat.
"There's just one problem." He announced. [Y/n] immediately became suspicious. Aang glanced away.
"I never actually learned how to generate lightning." He admitted shyly. [Y/n] just stared at him for a moment. Then nodded.
"That makes sense."
"It does?" Aang blinked.
"Of course it does." [Y/n] shrugged. "Zuko couldn't do it either, and he taught you. So, of course you couldn't do it." He explained, and Aang thought about it for a moment before nodding in agreement. Before either of them moved into position, [Y/n] held up a hand.
"One thing first." He started while Aang immediately stopped and gave him his full attention. "Most people think lightning is just stronger fire." He shook his head. "It isn't. They're related, but the mindset behind them is completely different." The Avatar listened carefully. Some of this sounded familiar. Zuko had explained parts of it years ago, and Iroh had touched on it as well, but Aang still found himself hanging on every word. Lightning had always felt fundamentally different from normal firebending, and he wanted to understand why.
"Fire comes from emotion. Passion. Determination. Drive." He gestured with one hand. "When most firebenders attack, they're feeding those emotions into their flames to make them stronger. They push them outward and turn them into fire." Aang nodded slowly. That much made sense. He'd experienced it himself while learning from Zuko and the dragons. Fire wasn't just destruction; it was life, energy, and emotion given form.
"Lightning is the opposite." [Y/n] continued, his expression growing more serious. "Lightning doesn't care how passionate you are. It doesn't care how angry you are. It doesn't care how badly you want something." He tapped two fingers lightly against his temple. "Lightning comes from clarity. Precision. Control." Aang found himself thinking back to all the times he'd seen others use lightning, focusing on how they expressed themselves. [Y/n] nodded when he saw the realisation crossing the Avatar's face.
"When you're generating fire, you're embracing emotion. When you're generating lightning, you're separating yourself from it. You don't let your feelings guide the energy. You guide it yourself." [Y/n] explained, trailing his fingers in the air as if he were separating invisible currents. Aang absorbed the words carefully. He remembered some of this from his previous lessons, but hearing it explained again helped everything click into place. More importantly, he knew he couldn't afford to miss any detail. Lightning wasn't something you could brute-force your way through. If he wanted to learn it properly and if he wanted to eventually use it to help people the way [Y/n] had described, then he needed to understand every part of it. So he listened carefully, committing each word to memory before the actual training began. Once [Y/n] was satisfied that Aang understood the theory, he gave a small nod.
"Good." The strategist stepped back and raised one hand. Extending two fingers toward himself, he took a slow breath before a thin strand of blue-white lightning crackled into existence between his fingertips. Unlike the violent bolts used in battle, this one was small and controlled. It wound lazily around his hand and forearm like a ribbon of living light, vibrant enough to catch the eye but harmless compared to what a true lightning strike could do. Aang immediately focused on it. Despite having seen lightning countless times before, there was something mesmerising about watching someone control it so effortlessly. The Avatar followed every movement of the crackling energy, determined not to miss a thing. [Y/n] let the lightning dance around his fingers for a few moments before looking back at him.
"For the first exercise, we're keeping things simple." [Y/n] said while Aang nodded. That sounded promising. [Y/n] pointed at the current flowing around his hand. "I'm going to send this toward you." The Avatar remained relaxed. That part was familiar territory. Then [Y/n] continued. "I want you to intercept it, redirect it..." He pointed at himself. "...and send it back to me." The words settled over the training grounds.
Immediately, the Avatar looked uncomfortable.
His eyes flicked from the lightning to [Y/n]. Then back again. Then back to [Y/n]. The hesitation was obvious.
"Aang?" [Y/n] raised an eyebrow. The Avatar rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.
"Send it back... at you?"
"Yeah. We'll pass it back and forth so you can get the hang of it." The answer came effortlessly, but Aang's discomfort only grew. [Y/n] frowned slightly. The lightning continued crackling harmlessly around his hand while the Avatar shifted his weight from one foot to the other. For several moments, he didn't answer. And that alone told the strategist that there was probably more going on in Aang's head than simply worrying about the exercise itself.
Aang stared at him for several long moments.
"I don't know if I'm comfortable trying to hit you with lightning." The statement was so sincere that it caught [Y/n] completely off guard. The strategist blinked.
"What?"
"It just feels wrong." Aang rubbed the back of his neck. [Y/n] looked down at the tiny strand of electricity dancing around his fingers. Then back at the Avatar.
"Aang, I literally work with lightning every day."
"I know."
"This bolt couldn't seriously hurt me if it tried."
"I know."
"Then what's the problem?"
The Avatar opened his mouth. Paused. Then closed it again. Clearly unable to explain it. Eventually, after several more minutes of reassurance, explanation, and [Y/n] reminding him that he was not, in fact, made of paper, Aang reluctantly agreed.
"Okay." The word sounded deeply unwilling. [Y/n] just sighed in relief before raising his hand slightly.
"Now focus." The small bolt separated from his fingers and drifted toward the Avatar. Not fast. Not aggressively. Just enough to force a response.
Aang immediately slipped into motion. His hands caught the lightning. His body turned. The current flowed down one arm, across his stomach, and up the other with incredible precision. [Y/n]'s eyes widened slightly despite himself. The movement was flawless. Smooth. Natural. The energy obeyed him completely as it raced through the redirection path. By the time it reached his fingertips, the lightning was dancing harmlessly around the fingers pointed directly at the strategist.
Then Aang looked up, saw where it was aimed, and immediately panicked. His eyes widened. His entire body froze. For one split second, he found himself staring down the length of his own arm at [Y/n]. At his friend. At someone Zuko cared about. At the person who had asked him to do this. And every instinct in his body rebelled.
Before he even consciously decided to move, his arm jerked upward. The lightning shot into the sky. A deafening crack echoed across the training grounds. Blue-white energy vanished into the clouds overhead. Birds exploded out of nearby trees. The smell of ozone overpowered the morning air.
Silence followed. Aang stared upward. Then slowly lowered his arm. The expression on his face looked almost confused, like he hadn't even realised what he'd done until after he'd done it.
Across from him, [Y/n] blinked. Once. Twice. Then stared.
"...Aang."
"...Yeah?" The Avatar winced.
"What was that?" He asked, genuine confusion lacing his voice as he tried to understand why Aang just shot the bolt into the clear blue sky. Aang continued staring at the sky for a moment before lowering his arm.
"I'm... not entirely sure." He admitted awkwardly. "Everything was fine until the end." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Then I looked up, saw it pointed at you, and kind of... panicked." The explanation didn't sound like he fully understood it himself. Across from him, [Y/n] stared for several long seconds, clearly unconvinced that the entire problem could be summed up by the word panic. Still, he eventually let out a slow breath and decided not to push it. Whatever was happening, forcing the issue probably wouldn't help.
"Alright..." He said at last. "Let's try again." Aang immediately looked nervous, but after a moment he nodded and stepped back into position while [Y/n] prepared another small bolt of lightning.
They tried again.
The result was identical.
The weak bolt left [Y/n]'s hand, Aang caught it, redirected it perfectly, then, at the last possible second, his arm twitched upward, and the lightning vanished harmlessly into the sky. The crack of thunder echoed across the training grounds. The Avatar immediately looked guilty. [Y/n] stared. Aang stared back. Neither said anything.
Then they tried again.
And again.
And again.
By the fourth attempt, a pattern had become impossible to ignore.
The moment the lightning was moving through Aang's body, he looked fine, comfortable, even. His redirection technique was flawless. There wasn't a hint of hesitation in the actual movement. The problem only appeared at the end.
Every. Single. Time.
The instant his fingers pointed toward [Y/n]. The instant the lightning would have left his body. The instant it became real.
His shoulders tightened. His breathing became shallow. A faint tremor appeared in his arms. Then the bolt went skyward.
Every time.
By the fourth attempt, the shaking was becoming noticeable. Not dramatic. Not enough to affect his bending. But enough that [Y/n] couldn't ignore it anymore. The strategist watched as another bolt disappeared harmlessly into the clouds before lowering his hand. This time, he didn't prepare another one.
Instead, he just stood there. Aang immediately looked away.
The silence stretched. Long enough that the Avatar started fidgeting. Long enough that he suddenly found the training grounds fascinating. Long enough that he became painfully aware that [Y/n] was still staring at him.
"Aang..." He said after a moment. "Your form is incredible. Honestly, it's better than I expected. Zuko clearly taught you well." The Avatar looked away awkwardly. The strategist folded his arms. "Everything is perfect until the very end. So what's actually going on?"
For several moments, Aang didn't answer. He stared at the ground, rubbing the back of his neck as he searched for the words. Eventually, he let out a long sigh.
"My history with lightning is... complicated." Before [Y/n] could ask what that meant, Aang turned around and lifted the back of his tunic. The strategist's question died instantly. A jagged scar stretched across the Avatar's lower back. Even after all these years, the mark was unmistakable. Lightning. For a few moments, [Y/n] simply stared. His mind immediately, and unhelpfully, compared it to the scar crossing Zuko's abdomen. Different wounds. Different locations. But very likely the same source. Azula. The realisation left an unpleasant knot in his stomach.
Slowly, Aang let the tunic fall back into place. The training grounds were quiet except for the distant sounds of birds and the morning breeze moving through the palace gardens. [Y/n] rubbed a hand over his face and let out a slow breath.
"So that's it." He sighed, and Aang looked up. "You're not worried because you think you'll miss." He continued. "And you're not worried because you don't trust your redirection." His voice softened slightly. "You're panicking because every time you point lightning at somebody, part of you thinks you're about to do to them what Azula did to you."
Aang's shoulders slumped immediately. The accuracy of the statement was obvious from his expression alone. Slowly, he nodded.
"Yeah." His eyes dropped back to the ground. "I'm sorry." The apology came so quickly that it almost sounded automatic. "I know it doesn't make sense." He rubbed his arm awkwardly. "I know that bolt couldn't really hurt you. I know you could handle it." He hesitated before continuing. "But every time I point lightning at somebody..." His voice grew quieter. "...I remember." The admission hung in the air between them, simply honest and just as simply painful. And suddenly, for the first time that morning, [Y/n] finally understood why the lesson kept falling apart. [Y/n] was quiet for a moment before letting out a slow breath.
"Aang, that's a completely natural response." He folded his arms and shook his head. "Most people would have a reaction to something like that. Honestly, I'm surprised you're even willing to try learning lightning after what happened." The strategist's voice was gentler now, completely free of the instructor's tone he'd been using earlier. Aang looked relieved to hear that. His shoulders relaxed slightly as some of the guilt faded from his expression. For a few moments, the Avatar stared out across the training grounds before shrugging awkwardly.
"I mean..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "The lightning did kill me." The words landed. Then landed again, because [Y/n] was almost certain he must have misheard that. Then kept landing when he realised he'd heard them right. Aang continued speaking, completely unaware of the mental devastation he'd just caused. "Until Katara brought me back, anyway."
The silence that swalled the courtyard was absolute.
The strategist stared. The Avatar blinked. The strategist continued staring. For the first time since they'd started training, [Y/n] looked genuinely horrified. Not shocked. Not surprised. Horrified. The expression was so severe that Aang immediately realised he'd said something very wrong.
"Oh." The Avatar awkwardly cleared his throat. "...Right." [Y/n] still hadn't said anything.
"Aang." The strategist's voice came out flat, dangerously flat. "You died?"
"Technically?" Aang winced. The look on [Y/n]'s face somehow got worse. The Avatar immediately raised both hands in surrender. "I'm fine now!" The reassurance came far too quickly as Aang frantically gestured to his still-clearly-alive body. "I got better." [Y/n] continued staring. Aang was beginning to understand why people found conversations like this difficult. "I mean, obviously." He gestured toward himself, far slower this time. "I'm here."
[Y/n] slowly rubbed a hand over his face. The motion looked less like stress relief and more like he was trying to physically process the information. For several seconds, he simply stood there trying to reconcile the fact that the cheerful, smiling person standing in front of him had just casually informed him that Azula had actually succeeded in killing him, if only for a couple of minutes.
Eventually, the strategist lowered his hand, his expression somewhere between disbelief and concern. Because there were now approximately twelve different conversations he wanted to have. Every single one of them concerning the phrase "The lightning did kill me." Unfortunately, none of those conversations were the one currently in front of him.
So, with what was clearly tremendous effort, he shoved all of those questions into a mental box labelled "Later." A very full box. One that was rapidly becoming a structural concern.
"Aang." Eventually, [Y/n] let out a slow breath and folded his arms. The Avatar looked up. The strategist's expression had softened considerably since the conversation began. "If you're really not comfortable with this, we don't have to do it." Aang blinked.
"[Y/n]-"
"I'm serious." The interruption was gentle. "You've already mastered all four elements." He gestured vaguely toward the world around them. "You're the Avatar. Nobody is going to look at you and think less of you because you decided not to learn one subskill of firebending." A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Honestly, most people can't even redirect lightning, let alone generate it." The training grounds fell quiet again. [Y/n] shrugged lightly.
"If you want to keep going, we'll figure something out. We can adjust the training. Take it slower. Start somewhere else." His voice remained calm and reassuring. "But if you don't want to continue, that's fine too." He meant it. There wasn't a hint of disappointment in his expression. The strategist wasn't trying to convince him one way or the other. He simply wanted Aang to understand that he had a choice. "Lightning isn't required for you to save people." He added quietly. "And it certainly isn't worth forcing yourself through something you're not ready for."
Aang didn't answer immediately. Instead, he looked down at his hands. The same hands that had redirected Ozai's lightning. The same hands that had failed four times in a row to point a harmless bolt at a friend. For several long moments, he remained silent. The morning breeze drifted through the training grounds while birds chirped somewhere beyond the palace walls. [Y/n] didn't rush him. He simply waited. Eventually, Aang sat down on the edge of the training platform and stared out across the courtyard, clearly turning the decision over in his head. Whether Aang continued or not, [Y/n] wanted it to be his choice. And judging by the thoughtful look on his face, he was taking that choice very seriously.
Aang was quiet for a long time. He stared out across the training grounds, thinking over everything [Y/n] had said. The option to stop was there. No pressure. No disappointment. No judgment. He could walk away from lightning entirely, and nobody would fault him for it. Eventually, however, he let out a deep breath and stood back up.
"No." The word was calm, but firm. Determined. He turned toward [Y/n]. "I want to learn." The strategist raised an eyebrow but remained silent, allowing him to continue. Aang rubbed the back of his neck before dropping his hand and meeting his eyes properly. "I still remember what you told me at the Southern Water Tribe." The mention immediately caught [Y/n]'s attention. Aang nodded.
"About restarting someone's heart." His expression grew more serious. "You said that lightning could be used to do that if it was controlled properly. I need to learn how." The conviction in his voice was unmistakable. Not because he wanted power. Not because he thought it would make him a better fighter. But because he was Aang. "What if somebody needs me someday?" He asked quietly. "What if Katara isn't there to heal them?" His hands tightened slightly at his sides. Then his voice softened even further. "Or worse... what if it's Katara?" The thought clearly terrified him. "What if she's the one who needs help and I can't do anything?" He looked away for a moment before forcing himself to continue. "I need to be able to help people if I can."
For several seconds, [Y/n] simply stared at him. The words settled over the training grounds as he took them in. Then, slowly, a smile spread across his face. Not amused. Not teasing. Just warm. Understanding. He stepped forward and rested a hand on Aang's shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. The Avatar looked up at him in confusion.
"You really are exactly how Zuko described you." [Y/n] just laughed quietly and shook his head.
"What does that mean?" Aang blinked. The strategist's smile widened slightly.
"Most people want to learn lightning because it's powerful." He lowered his hand and folded his arms. "You want to learn it because you think it might help you save one more person someday." His expression softened further. "Honestly, I don't think there was ever any chance you were going to give up." Aang grinned sheepishly at that, and somehow that only proved [Y/n]'s point. [Y/n] smiled slightly at the determination in Aang's voice.
"Restarting someone's heart with lightning is an extremely advanced technique." The strategist folded his arms as he spoke. "It's not just about generating lightning. It's about precision. Control. Knowing exactly how much energy to use and where to place it. Overshoot it even a little, and you could make their heart explode." He shook his head, ignoring the look of genuine horror that crossed Aang's face at the last part. "You'd also need to be completely comfortable directing lightning at another person." His gaze drifted toward the scar hidden beneath Aang's tunic. "Considering where we're starting from, it's probably going to be a while before you reach that point." There was no criticism in the statement, only honesty. The technique he was talking about sat at the absolute edge of what lightningbending could accomplish. Aang listened carefully before nodding.
"I still want to get there someday." The answer came without hesitation. [Y/n] studied him for a moment before a small smile returned to his face.
"Yeah. I figured that would be your answer." [Y/n] sighed dramatically. "You're making it very difficult for me to be the cynical one in this conversation." Aang looked entirely too pleased about that. Eventually, the strategist shook his head and stepped backwards into the centre of the training yard. "Alright." He raised his hands slightly. "If directing lightning at me is causing problems, we'll work on something else for now." Aang immediately straightened.
"What?"
"Generation." [Y/n] shifted into a familiar stance, planting his feet firmly against the stone beneath them. "Copy me." Aang immediately mirrored the position. [Y/n] made a few small adjustments to Aang's stance, moving one foot slightly and lowering a shoulder. "There." He nodded approvingly. "Now let's see if we can convince you to make lightning before we worry about throwing it at anybody." [Y/n] waited until Aang had settled into the stance before speaking again. His voice was calm and measured, carrying easily across the quiet training yard.
"Close your eyes." The Avatar obeyed immediately. "Now forget everything you normally reach for when you're firebending." Aang frowned slightly. That was easier said than done. "Don't reach for passion. Don't reach for determination. Don't reach for anger." The strategist slowly circled him as he spoke. "Let all of it go. Detach yourself from it." The morning breeze drifted through the courtyard as Aang focused on the instructions. "Instead, focus on the energy around you. The energy at the tips of your fingers. Feel it."
Aang took a deep breath. Then another. For a while, nothing happened.
The world seemed to fall away until all he could hear was his own breathing and [Y/n]'s occasional footsteps on the stone. He searched for what the strategist had described, trying to ignore the instinctive habits that came with normal firebending. At first, there was nothing. No heat. No movement. No spark. Then, after several long moments, he felt something. Tiny. Barely there. A faint hum at the tip of one finger.
The sensation was so small he almost convinced himself he'd imagined it. A vibration dancing at the very edges of awareness. Like static before a storm.
His fingers twitched slightly. The movement was completely involuntary. Across from him, [Y/n]'s eyes immediately narrowed in approval.
"Good." The word was quiet enough not to break Aang's concentration. The moment Aang felt the faint hum, excitement immediately surged through him. After four failed attempts at redirection and an increasingly uncomfortable conversation about lightning scars, finally finding something felt like a breakthrough. The energy at his fingertips seemed to strengthen slightly in response.
"I think I-" He started.
"Careful." [Y/n]'s voice was gentle, but firm. The warning instantly stopped him. "Don't get excited." Aang immediately caught himself and took another slow breath. Right. Lightning wasn't fire. He couldn't chase the feeling. Couldn't celebrate it. Couldn't let emotion grab hold of the process. The Avatar nodded slightly and forced himself to settle again. After a few moments, the excitement faded, and the tiny hum stabilised.
"Good." [Y/n] praised. "Now guide it." The strategist moved slowly around him as he spoke. "Feel the energy around you. Feel the positive and negative currents flowing through the air." Aang focused harder. At first, the sensation was vague and difficult to understand, but gradually it became clearer. He could almost sense something moving around him. "Now separate them." [Y/n]'s voice remained calm and steady. "Let them divide." The Avatar followed the instructions as best he could. The strange sensation split apart, moving in opposite directions through his body. One current drifted toward one hand. The other toward the opposite side. "Good." The strategist smiled when he saw Aang's posture subtly adjust. "Draw out those energies. Guide them. Don't force them."
Aang focused harder as the sensation gradually changed. The energy no longer felt singular. It felt divided. Like two streams moving beside one another. Close. Yet separate.
A strange sensation ran through his fingertips. The tiniest crackle. The tiniest spark.
"That's it." [Y/n] nodded again. "Now guide them." Aang swallowed. The task sounded much easier than it felt. "Pull them apart. Let them move through you." The Avatar obeyed. Carefully.
The sensation spread from his fingertips. Into his hands. Along his wrists. Not painful. Not even uncomfortable. Just strange. Like holding a storm beneath his skin. The energy drifted through his arms. Separate currents winding around one another without touching.
The feeling grew stronger. More distinct. Until it almost felt alive.
Aang's breathing slowed. His focus narrowed completely. The rest of the world faded away. There was only the energy. The currents. The strange dance beneath his skin.
[Y/n] watched carefully as faint sparks flickered at the Avatar's fingertips as everything clicked. Aang could feel the energy moving through him. Not just at his fingertips anymore, but throughout his entire body. The positive and negative currents separated exactly as [Y/n] had described, dancing along his skin in opposite directions before converging again under his guidance. Tiny sparks became thin strands of electricity. Thin strands became crackling ribbons of blue-white energy. The lightning wasn't dangerous yet, but it was real. Alive. Aang had never generated it before, and now it was flowing around his hands exactly the way it flowed around [Y/n]'s. The realisation hit him all at once.
"I did it!" The cheer escaped before he could stop it.
Immediately, everything went wrong.
The moment excitement flooded back into the process, the carefully balanced currents destabilised. The lightning flickered violently. The neat streams of energy began to swell and spread beyond Aang's control. Instead of obeying him, the electricity started snapping wildly around his arms. Aang's eyes widened in alarm. The excitement vanished, replaced by panic. Pure panic. Across the training yard, [Y/n] felt his stomach drop. It was happening too quickly. Far too quickly.
"Aang..." He warned, trying to remain composed despite his own panic worsening. "Stay calm." The Avatar didn't respond. Whether he couldn't hear him or simply couldn't process the words, [Y/n] couldn't tell. What he could see was the look on Aang's face.
Terror.
Not the terror of someone losing control of a technique. The terror of someone reliving a memory. The strategist immediately recognised it.
"Aang!"
The lightning convulsed. Aang flinched. And suddenly [Y/n] wasn't looking at the Avatar standing in front of him anymore. He was looking at a twelve-year-old boy struck down beneath Ba Sing Se.
"Shit!" The curse slipped from his lips as the unstable energy surged outward. There wasn't time to think. There wasn't time to explain. Only react. [Y/n] launched himself forward.
The instant the lightning erupted, he intercepted it. His hands snapped into position and redirected the majority of the energy toward himself before it could discharge back into Aang. The current raced through his body. He redirected most of it away from them both and into the sky beyond the training yard. For one second, he thought he'd caught all of it. Then Aang's panic sent another violent pulse through the lightning. The energy twisted unpredictably. A final trail of electricity slipped through his defences and shot straight through his arm. Pain exploded from shoulder to fingertips. [Y/n] let out a sharp yell as the impact lifted him off his feet and threw him backwards. He hit the ground several paces away and skidded across the stone, the smell of burnt cloth and ozone filling the air as the last remnants of electricity crackled harmlessly away. Silence followed.
For several long seconds, neither of them moved. Then Aang's brain finally caught up with what had happened.
"[Y/n]!" The Avatar practically threw himself across the training yard. Panic was written all over his face as he skidded to a stop beside the strategist. Meanwhile, [Y/n] pushed himself upright with a groan, every muscle in his body protesting the movement. The first thing he did was look down at his arm. The sleeve of his robe was scorched black, and beneath it, burns stretched along his forearm. Thankfully, he'd managed to redirect the overwhelming majority of the lightning so the skin damage was shallow and would likely heal after a while. Didn't mean it didn't hurt like a bitch, though. He closed his eyes and muttered several very unflattering words under his breath while his mind, very unhelpfully, flashed back to the time his arm hit hurt training with Zuko. He was really hoping this wasn't about to become a recurring theme. Across from him, Aang looked ready to faint.
"I'm sorry!" He blurted out. "I didn't mean to- I lost control, and then you jumped in and-" The words dissolved into increasingly frantic apologies. [Y/n] barely heard them. Something felt wrong. Frowning, he tried flexing his fingers. Nothing happened. He stared at his hand for a moment before trying again with the same result.
"...Wonderful."
"What?!" Aang immediately looked horrified. The strategist sighed.
"My arm's gone dead." Somehow, that only made Aang panic harder. "Relax. It looks like most of the skin damage was shallow, and my system just got shocked asleep." Without another word, [Y/n] raised his uninjured hand and generated a small current of electricity.
"What are you doing?!" Aang yelped. Instead of answering, the strategist pressed the lightning into his injured arm. Pain shot through him instantly, and he hissed through clenched teeth as every muscle seized. Then, all at once, the nerves woke back up. His fingers curled involuntarily before settling. Slowly, he flexed them again. This time they obeyed. Satisfied, he lowered the arm while Aang stared at him in absolute disbelief.
The Avatar's gaze remained fixed on [Y/n]'s arm as though looking away might somehow make the injury worse. Every time the strategist flexed his fingers or shifted his shoulder, Aang visibly flinched. The guilt on his face was almost painful to look at. The Avatar looked like he was on the verge of a breakdown.
"I'm sorry." He repeated. "I don't even know how to heal. Katara would've known what to do. I don't know what to do." The guilt in his voice was painful to hear. [Y/n] stared at him for a moment before tiredly waving his good hand.
"Aang." The Avatar looked up immediately. "Are you okay?" Aang blinked.
"What?"
"Are you hurt?" [Y/n] pushed himself fully to his feet. The Avatar stared at him like he'd gone completely insane.
"You're the one who got thrown across the training yard!"
"So that's a no?"
"[Y/n]!"
"I'm fine." [Y/n] sighed, putting his hands up defensively. The statement sounded so deeply unconvincing that Aang almost scoffed. His eyes immediately dropped back to the burns on [Y/n]'s arm before lifting to the scorch marks scattered across the training ground. "You are not fine."
"I'm standing." The strategist grunted and brushed dirt from his robes.
"That's not the same thing."
"It's close enough."
Aang looked ready to argue for the next hour. [Y/n] simply sighed. Somehow, despite being the one who had just taken a lightning strike to the arm, he had a feeling the next several minutes were going to involve convincing Aang that the world was not ending. And judging by the look on the Avatar's face, it was going to be an uphill battle.
"Aang, look at me." The Avatar reluctantly did. The strategist lifted his injured arm slightly. "The burns aren't deep." He poked one of the less painful spots with his uninjured hand. "They hurt, they're annoying, and they're going to make whichever medic gets stuck treating me complain for the next hour, but they're not serious." Aang still looked unconvinced. [Y/n] sighed again. "Really. Once I get them looked at, I'll be fine." The reassurance was genuine, but the guilt on Aang's face barely faded. The Avatar looked down at the ground.
"I'm still sorry." The apology came quietly this time. [Y/n]'s expression softened.
"I know." He rested a hand on Aang's shoulder. "But everything's okay." The strategist waited until Aang finally looked back up before continuing. "You didn't hurt me because you're reckless. You got scared." The words landed a little more gently than the previous conversation had. "That's something we can work on." Slowly, some of the tension began to leave Aang's shoulders. Not all of it. Probably not even most of it. But enough.
Eventually, [Y/n] pushed himself fully to his feet and rolled his shoulder experimentally. Then, for emphasis, he stretched the injured arm. The motion immediately made him regret every decision he'd ever made, but he managed not to show it beyond a slight twitch around his eye.
"See?" He asked. "Still attached." Aang snorted despite himself. The strategist smiled. "More importantly, I'm glad you're okay." His expression became more serious. "And until our next lesson, I don't want you practising lightning, especially not while I'm not around to redirect it." Aang was already agreeing before [Y/n] even finished the sentence. "Meditation, however, is encouraged." The strategist folded his arms. "The lightning isn't the problem. The trauma is." His expression softened slightly. "Work on that. Work on staying calm when lightning is involved. If you can manage that, the actual bending part will get much easier." Aang considered that before slowly nodding.
"I can do that." A faint smile appeared on his face. "I spent a lot of time meditating with the monks." The statement was delivered with just enough confidence to make [Y/n] laugh.
"Somehow that doesn't surprise me."
"I was actually pretty good at it." The Avatar grinned.
"I'd be concerned if an Air Nomad Avatar wasn't good at meditation." That earned a laugh from both of them. The tension from earlier had finally started to fade, replaced by the far more familiar feeling of two friends talking rather than a teacher and student struggling through trauma. [Y/n] smiled and gave Aang one final pat on the shoulder. "We'll try again in a few days." The Avatar nodded. "And no lightning until then."
"No lightning until then." Aang repeated the words dutifully.
Unfortunately, the training ended there. Because a panicked minister suddenly appeared from what could only have been a spirit portal hidden somewhere inside the training grounds.
One moment, it was just the two of them. The next:
"Chief Strategist!"
Both men jumped. A middle-aged minister practically stumbled into the courtyard, clutching a stack of papers against his chest and breathing like he'd sprinted across half the palace. [Y/n] closed his eyes slowly. Painfully.
"There it is." He muttered. Aang immediately started laughing. The strategist pointed accusingly at the minister. "How do you people keep finding me?" The minister looked confused by the question. [Y/n] sighed toward the heavens while Aang laughed harder. Apparently, reality had finally remembered he existed. The minister bowed hurriedly.
"My apologies, sir, but you're desperately needed in the Fire Lord's council chamber."
"What happened?" The strategist immediately knew he wasn't escaping.
"The security plans." The minister swallowed. "There appears to be a disagreement."
[Y/n] groaned. Not loudly. Not dramatically. Just the exhausted sound of a man who'd spent months dealing with banquet preparations and had finally reached the point where every problem sounded exactly the same. [Y/n] stared at the minister for a moment before letting out a long sigh.
"Who's looking for me?" The question already felt unnecessary. There were only so many people in the palace capable of summoning him within minutes of finishing a lightning lesson. The minister adjusted the stack of papers in his arms and straightened.
"Fire Lord Zuko, sir." That earned another sigh. "He requested your presence personally. Apparently, the discussion in the audience chamber has devolved into arguments, and His Majesty believes the matter would be resolved more quickly if you were present." The minister looked deeply uncomfortable. "His exact words were that 'everyone keeps talking in circles'."
"Of course they are." [Y/n] pinched the bridge of his nose. For a moment, he seriously considered pretending he hadn't heard that. Unfortunately, that strategy had never worked before. Eventually, he nodded. "Fine." The strategist gestured vaguely toward the palace. "Tell Zuko to meet me in the medical ward."
The minister blinked. The audience chamber was one thing. The medical ward was another.
"I'm sorry, sir?"
"We'll discuss whatever disaster is waiting for me there." The confusion on the minister's face only grew. [Y/n] stared at him. Then slowly raised his injured arm. The burnt sleeve. The angry red marks running along his forearm. The lingering smell of ozone. Realisation struck immediately. The minister visibly winced.
"Right... The medical ward..." The man nodded rapidly, then turned and hurried away before [Y/n] could acquire any additional injuries requiring paperwork. Within seconds, he was practically sprinting back toward the palace. [Y/n] watched the minister disappear around the final corner before turning back toward Aang.
"See?" He muttered. "I told you the medic will be more upset than I am." The Avatar looked completely unconvinced by that statement. He still looked guilty, though thankfully nowhere near as panicked as he had a few minutes earlier. The strategist sighed and pointed at him.
"Don't worry about me." [Y/n] ordered. Aang immediately opened his mouth to argue. "I'm serious." He folded his arms carefully, mindful of the burns. "Focus on the meditation. Work on staying calm around lightning. And try to enjoy your time here instead of spending the next three days feeling guilty." The Avatar looked unconvinced but eventually nodded.
"Okay." A small smile appeared on his face. "I'll try." Satisfied, [Y/n] nodded back. Aang straightened and offered a respectful bow. "Thanks for the lesson." [Y/n] waved a hand dismissively.
"You did most of the wo-."
"Sifu Hotman." The Avatar's grin widened. [Y/n] froze mid-step. Slowly, he turned around.
"Well, actually..." The Avatar tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Zuko is already Sifu Hotman." That did not answer a single one of the questions [Y/n] currently had. Aang continued anyway. "And Hotman doesn't really fit you as much." He gestured vaguely. "You don't really use fire." The strategist just raised a completely bewildered brow. Then Aang's eyes lit up. The look immediately filled [Y/n] with dread.
"Oh!" The Avatar pointed triumphantly. "I've got it."
"No."
"Sifu Sparkleman." The training grounds fell silent. [Y/n] stared. Aang smiled proudly, like he'd just solved a complex mathematical equation. The strategist continued staring.
"Sifu Sparkleman?"
"Yeah."
"No."
"I think it fits."
"It does not."
"It really does." Aang nodded confidently. [Y/n] looked toward the heavens. Possibly searching for guidance. Possibly searching for lightning. Neither appeared. He considered arguing. Then remembered he was exhausted. His arm hurt. He was being summoned to a meeting. And he simply did not have the energy for whatever this conversation was becoming.
Eventually, after determining that this battle was unwinnable, he simply sighed. Deeply. Profoundly. Then waved a hand dismissively while Aang looked pleased with himself.
"Go enjoy your day."
"See you later, Sifu Sparkleman."
"I hate that."
Just as [Y/n] finally reached the gate, the Avatar suddenly called after him.
"Hey!" Aang's voice stopped [Y/n] in his tracks. "Is Zuko going to be mad about the burn?" The question earned a long silence. The strategist slowly looked down at his injured arm. Then toward the palace. Then back at Aang. Finally, he sighed with the exhaustion of a man who already knew exactly how the next hour of his life was going to go.
"Aang..." [Y/n] started, watching the Avatar wince. "You already know the answer to that." The look on Aang's face confirmed that, yes, he absolutely did. Neither of them felt particularly optimistic about the Fire Lord's reaction.
With one final sigh, [Y/n] retrieved his outer robes and slipped them back on, adjusting the sleeves over the faint redness on his arm. Already mentally preparing himself for whatever fresh catastrophe awaited him. Behind him, the training grounds were finally quiet again.
And, unfortunately, he had a horrible feeling that "Sifu Sparkleman" was not going away anytime soon.
My Tumblr is showing me posts from the flowery fan club. It knows how much I hate him but Tumblr also knows I can't say anything in the comments on those posts.
I wanna set flowery on fire and roast marshmallows on his corpse.
I love your posts sm, your characterisation of the cast is perfect! If you wouldn’t mind, could you please do one with MC struggling with period cramps?
THANK YOU! Also dude, you sent this at the most perfect time, babes. I'm genuinely surprised nobody has requested this yet.
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