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You feel the blazing, scarlet flame in your chest spark awake. The chill from a dark night eagerly dissipates in the presence of the rising sun. Black skies dotted with pearly stars shift into a pale grey to a warm yellow. The world awakens once again — into something new and familiar. A routine as easy as the callouses on your feet and the small burns on your hands.
A deep breath invites itself past your mouth and into your lungs. Torches lit with dancing flames surround the edges of the training grounds. Soot falls to the ground, tainting century-old brick black. Vines twist around the columns of the courtyard and the fountain that has long been dried since before you were born. Not a drop of water exists here, air far too dry and the heat unbearable to most foreigners. Still, the beauty of the ancient grounds blessed by spirits as old as the Lionturtles continues to steal your breath with every visit. Particularly, the figure in the middle.
Jungkook bends low and firm in his horse stance, posture straight and fists clenched. Just as you taught him. The Avatar spirit ever prominent in the endless wisdom in his eyes and the talent that spurs from his movements that only a prodigy could muster. Someone who has dedicated their life to the art of bending and spent every waking hour to be the best.
Someone like you.
That’s how you got here, you suppose. What seemed like endless years stuck at the Fire Academy led to Yangchen’s successor in the form of a waterbender from the Northern Water Tribe. Idealistic beliefs moulded alongside a warrior’s fight stand before you in all of his Avatar-like glory. Although it’s been only a little more than twenty summers, the Era of Jungkook has reflected exactly that. Perfectionism and peace are the unwritten rules carved into the crevices of his heart that he carries so fervently as he serves the Four Nations. It sits heavy with you, too; standing by his side as one of his mentors during his travels from kingdom to tribe. The lingering expectation that crowds your rear throughout every national treaty and sudden dark spirit attack keeps you on edge. Moreso, the burden of locking the Avatar someplace deep within your heart when you’ve studied enough about his predecessors to memorize the obligation he has to the world. As well, the dangers that come with it.
(Especially that.)
You swallow your worries away — another thing you shove to the back of your mind as you approach Jungkook’s still figure. Soundless footsteps that you’ve practiced from the Academy aid you in your journey towards him. Your efforts don’t stop the Avatar from peeking his left eye open, amusement dancing in his irises.
“I felt you before I heard you,” he says, a cheeky smile growing on his face. Both of his eyes are open now, greedily taking in the sight of you swathed in an outfit so far from your usual attire. A deep blue tunic rests on your shoulders and pants made of matching material complete your imitation of a Northern Water Tribe resident. They replace the sharp edges of your crimson armour and the blinding gold that keeps your top knot in place. He elaborates when you cant your head to the side. “Newly crowned earthbending master, ‘member?”
You roll your eyes in anticipation of the quiet laugh you crave from Jungkook, awaiting the pretty sound so you can savour it and keep it tight to your chest. It’s exactly what you get. “I told Taehyung to be wary about using that word around you. Now your egos inflated when you have much more important tasks to focus on.”
“Yeah?” he goads. His posture slouches and you narrow your eyes. Jungkook’s bare feet shift into a smaller stance. “Like surpassing my firebending master to claim the title of the best firebender in the world?”
The distance between you closes with your decisive footsteps while you stand tall in front of him, staring him in the eye. You bite back a smirk and, “If I recall correctly, you’re the one who gave me that title. And even if you end up mastering firebending by the end of the summer, you still won’t be better than me.”
“Is that a challenge, Sifu?” he asks with your name hanging off of his lips at the end.
“More of a prophecy if anything, Avatar. Something about Agni visiting me in the middle of the night.”
Jungkook disregards his morning katas in favour of bantering with you. One half of you fights off the twist in your stomach and the other bites your tongue to scold him for being distracted while he goes through his bending forms. The former wins.
“Oh,” he starts, a playful lilt to his voice. “And what did Agni tell you?”
You lean in closer, arms crossed. The satisfaction of watching Jungkook’s eyes round and breathing pause is well worth the rapid increase of your heart rate. You allow the moment to linger in silence, enjoying the nervous waver of Jungkook’s thighs. He exhales heavily and the hair on his forehead moves with the wind.
“He told me that I’ve been blessed by the dragons Ran and Shaw themselves. Sun Warrior lineage and all that.”
He makes an exaggerated noise to mock your blatant lie, mouth pursed as though he was seriously considering the possibility of an ancient spirit speaking to you. You’re not gifted in the spiritual aspect of the world, other than the occasional meditation to care for your inner flame. But Jungkook is. You imagine that being the bridge between the physical and spiritual world does that.
Jungkook relieves himself from his low stance and stretches his legs out. He snakes a warm hand around your waist to pull you closer to murmur, “I think I’d be able to tell if Agni crossed into this side of the world.”
“Hm.”
The whites of his teeth reveal themselves to you when the edges of his lips lift. “I sensed when the phoenix-eel spirits broke through the rift, didn’t I?”
At the mention of the night at Ma’inka Island, you step away. Bitterness crawls at your throat and the heat in your palms grows. Images of an inky sky and thrashing waves that threatened to keep Jungkook beneath the currents plague you when you shut your eyes. You waited for him to return to the surface for so long, the rocks pinched your bare feet as you rocked back and forth along the coastline. You followed him when he attempted to leave the campsite unnoticed. The first sign that something was wrong was when he didn’t turn around to confront you; he didn’t know you were there at all.
(The fire flickers noisily in the middle of the campsite. It begins to slowly fade into the air without your bending or Namjoon’s careful watch. The airbender was the last to tend to the flame and had forgotten about it in favour of rest. You’ll scold him for it tomorrow morning. Though now, even in the depths of the night, the sound isn’t enough to mask Jungkook slip out of his bedroll. You wait until he disappears into the tree line and out of the clearing to follow him.
He seems distracted, hands threading through his hair like a nervous habit. He doesn’t notice the curious eyes of exotic fauna watching him or the glare that belongs to you. If Jungkook won’t watch his back, you will.)
“Sorry,” he amends quickly. His sight falls to the cracks of the stone under the both of you. Jungkook shoves his hands behind him as if he were a student to be scolded. “Sore topic.”
Your arms drop to your sides and you inhale deeply. You watch the light in his eyes flicker to a dim shadow. It’s difficult to hold this grudge you so rightfully deserve to guilt him for when he drops his cheerful facade and shows you the unnerving pace that he ages with from every battle he has against another angered spirit. It is a challenge to be irritated with him when he recklessly throws himself in the troughs of danger without asking for help. Your help. He has none because he stupidly convinced himself that this was his problem to solve by himself.
Alone.
(He could have died alone.)
“Please don’t be mad at me.”
“I’m not. I’m…” you pause, searching for the right words. Jungkook waits patiently and steps a bit closer again when you don’t recoil. “I’m upset, Jungkook. I’m sad that you felt like you couldn’t trust us with something as dangerous as fighting evil spirits that threaten to endanger the entire world.”
He shakes his head furiously. Soft rays from the sun colour his skin gold and fill the warmth he desperately needs. “I trust all of you with my life. Especially you.”
(You lose sight of him before he breaks through the other end of the forest, somewhere between the thick leaves that obscure your vision and the branches that would have revealed your position. Sharp twists of your tongue whisper obscenities to the world as you quickly move from tree to tree until you reach another clearing. The steady rocking of the ocean mocks your erratic breathing and the distant figure of someone treading into the water greets you. You halt your breathing when they whip around to peer at their surroundings. The harsh moonlight highlights the edges of his face and the exhaustion painted under his eyes. His gaze runs over the tree line where you’re hidden behind a bush that scratches your skin and the cliffs above him. Jungkook looks like a version of himself you’ve only seen after a drink too many — anxious and stressed like a child who has been forced to age twice the pace of everyone else.
How have you never noticed the boy underneath a mask forged by politicians who try to use him for their own benefit? How has the destiny that shackles him to an endless pit of responsibility escaped your attention?
You wait in the tree line, but time passes for too long. Worry clambers the chambers of your heart and you throw caution in the wind to cross the grass and onto the warm sands. If Jungkook is upset with you, you’ll suffer through the frowns and dips in his eyebrow for the next week. His safety is more important. That is your mantra when your toes touch the edge of the water. Crashes of the ocean against weathered rock pull your attention away for half a second. You stand where he was a moment before, footprints still embedded in the sand. The sight of him under the currents is nowhere to be found. Jungkook may be the Avatar, but he’s still human and how long can he withstand the currents for?
Not long enough to be submerged for as long as he has already been, you’re sure. So you stride forward, shivering at the chill the ocean carries. You’re knee-deep when you resort to calling his name into nothingness. The moon says nothing. Perhaps if you spent more time studying the spirits you could have asked the Moon Spirit for help. You tread deeper into the water. The waves wash over you time and time again. It feels wrong for a firebender to be subject to the cold, unforgiving nature of the ocean. Yet, here you are, gasping for breath each time you return to the surface after another fruitless attempt to find Jungkook.
Shivers rack your body. You can’t tell if it’s from the temperature or the fear that encompasses you. You can’t retreat to shore even if your lungs and muscles plead with you to. Another wave comes crashing, shoving you back to shore as you cough. Dread drowns you more than the water in your chest at the realization — the terrifying possibility — that Jungkook is gone. It’s been far, far too long.
And you’re merely a helpless firebender who can’t bend.
Who can’t do the one thing you’ve been taught to do since you lit your first tinsel.
Who can’t do anything because the one person you trust more than life itself doesn’t trust you.
Tired limbs refuse to bend to your will. You sit at the mercy of the moon and the ocean, who continue to devour Jungkook like he’s nothing.)
“Okay,” you swallow. You grasp his hand and squeeze it, bringing it to the middle of your chest. “I believe you.”
Your words melt the ice on his skin into some semblance of relief. He threads his fingers through your other hand and brings it to his lips. “Thank you.”
“Of course.”
Jungkook hesitates. The chemistry budding between the two of you has shifted entirely since the end of spring and you’re relearning parts of each other you thought you knew from years of companionship. It keeps your inner flame burning hotter than it’s ever been before, but it’s instantly stamped out when dangers from the human and spiritual world threaten to rip him from your side. You nod to encourage him, subsequently washing your fears away.
He spares one last glance at you before pressing his lips against yours. Tender movements urge you to mimic him, hands unfolding to coil around your waist. You let your hands wander up his neck and to the sides of his face. Caution taints your every action because it feels good. It feels too good to have him in your arms as opposed to the freezing oceans that have never enjoyed your presence. (It goes both ways.) But Jungkook, a bender from the Northern Water Tribe, cradled in infinite shades of blue happily invites you into his embrace. The chill you would expect from a waterbender is vastly different from the warmth in front of you, in the form of the Avatar that consistently has you tripping over your feet.
You take his chin between your fingers to gently shift him into a more comfortable angle. His nose knocks against yours, mouth hurrying to return to your lips. Slow motions clear your mind from stray thoughts until your sole focus is Jungkook and his heavy pants. The heat of the sun is welcomed, although you’re more than warm with the help of your chi in close contact with Jungkook’s. He mirrors your sentiments, parting from you to lean his forehead against you. His lips are pink from wear and cheeks flushed to match. The stinging in your skin means you’re likely no better.
“I’m going to tell Namjoon and Taehyung today,” he promises, pushing stray hair from your topknot behind your ear. You drop your hands to his forearms as he takes a second to stare at your updo that lacks its usual headpiece. “Before we return to Ba Sing Se, at least.”
“That’s a good idea.”
He nods, biting his bottom lip. “Yeah. They’re going to be furious.”
“Definitely,” you say. Your fingers pick at the loose thread of his shirt before returning your focus to Jungkook. “But there’s one more thing you need to do.”
“What’s that?” he asks, brows furrowed. You bite back a smile, thumbing at his lip. His eyes sparkle with sudden anticipation from your suggestive movements. Excitement is a much more favourable look on Jungkook, rather than the ugly lines of distress.
“Well,” you begin, hands trailing up his defined arms and onto his shoulders, “your katas. Finish them before we return to camp.”
His posture deflates, pout quick to appear in protest. He opens his mouth, but you react faster by pressing on his shoulders until he’s back in the same horse stance from before. “What—“
You step away, hands folded behind your back. “Look how much of the morning you’ve already wasted. Start from the beginning. I’ll watch.”
Jungkook whines the syllables of your name endearingly, arms and feet subserviently in their proper place. “Really?”
You blink and wander around him in a circle. “Is that how you talk to your firebending master? Now go through your katas, Avatar.”
He huffs dramatically, lowering into horse stance with a joyful glint to his eyes. “Yes, Sifu.”
(Silence urges forward, unwilling to listen to your quiet prayers and the tears running down your chin. You pull your knees to your chest, wet clothes sticking to you like a second skin. You have never experienced a night colder than now in the Fire Nation. To muster the flickers of your inner flame isn’t something you learn — it’s something you know even before you’re celebrated as a firebender. And, despite that fact, you lack the strength and focus to spark a fire that should be as easy as it is to breathe.
Though, to inhale and exhale is a task that grows more difficult the further you let yourself spiral into the beliefs that the Era of Jungkook has concluded. The thought of mourning the loss of boyish wonders and kind smiles draped in deep blues forces you to squeeze your body closer. Hot tears streak your face, hidden when they fall into your damp clothing. The world would mourn the loss of a young Avatar, but you would be grieving the loss of someone you love.
It’s not fair, you think. It’s not fair that Jungkook lost the roll of fate to be cursed by prophecies that defined him before he got the chance to learn about himself. It doesn’t make sense that, for the first time in your life, you’ve learned the feeling of joy outside of embellished titles and Academy awards for it to be stripped twice as fast. And it is unjust that the spirits would forsake people like Taehyung and Namjoon who have upheaved their lives to partake in the great honour that is serving the Avatar. Nothing about fate or destiny or fortune is honourable the way it should be.
You claw at your hair, topknot falling out of place. Fitting. You’ll have no honour after the Four Nations learn about your failure. You lift your chin onto your knee, sight wavering as your tears renew. The shadows grow as the night continues mercilessly. They take the forms of oblivious creatures and your mind takes pleasure in tricking you by creating a figure shaped like Jungkook. You rub your eyes when the image in front of you looks as though the wave has carried the figure to shore, bending only a waterbender could perform.
The body slumps onto the beach, stomach on the sand and head angled to gasp for air. Your foggy mind sharpens as you watch them breathe once, then twice. You stumble to your feet, careful to not slip by the puddles you’ve created along the rocks. You will yourself to stop crying and to be the Fire Nation warrior you’ve been tediously crafted to be. You take that chance to let your hopes be shattered and future cracked by asking, “Jungkook?”
A groan greets you as you near the body, dark hair splayed over their forehead and clothes tattered. They open their eyes into a familiar brown. He croaks your name with something close to relief. Shaking hands push him into a sitting position and he cries. Jungkook sobs, attempting to muffle his bawls by screwing his mouth tight.
You fall to your knees in front of him, cradling him to your chest. You grip onto him tight even as the water brushes against you like a threat to take him away permanently this time. “Jungkook,” you whisper. “What happened?”
“There’s a rift. Spirits, the ones Yangchen made promises to, who are finding ways out of the spirit world to destroy this one.”
“Why? That doesn’t—“
Jungkook lifts his head into the safety of your neck. His words are slurred. “She couldn’t keep her end of the bargain. They aren’t willing to come to a peaceful compromise. Not anymore.”
You run a hand through his tangled hair, heat quickly running through your veins to warm the both of you. “How long?”
He’s silent.
“Jungkook. How long?”
You push him away to look him in the eye. He confesses, “Mid-spring.”
Red eyes plea with you to drop your weak interrogation. There are bruises that litter his skin from where you can see them. Nausea churns in your stomach, chest aching.
“Why?” you cry, another set of tears to add to the ocean. “Why didn’t you tell us? Or me?”
“I’m so sorry. I’m—“ he breaks at the end, head falling to glare at the ground.
“It’s okay.” You embrace him tightly to feel him in your reach again. Jungkook squeezes back, eager and willing to drop the subject. “It’s okay.”)
The sun rests proudly in the centre of the sky. The training grounds shimmer in the sunlight as the plants keen toward the warmth. Jungkook proceeds throughout his routine in perfect form, always meticulous and easy to overwork to be the best version of himself. He focuses on what’s in front of him despite your hovering and small adjustments. Near the end of his routine, he falters his gaze to look at you. Jungkook lifts the edges of his lips, mouths something you can’t comprehend and shakes his head when you tilt your head in question.
And maybe that’s when you decide, that if Jungkook has to keep running onward, you’ll just have to keep chasing him from behind.
Safety and all that.