Nightfall

Twenty Three

A couple of days had passed since Katara had stumbled upon the tunnels. They mainly stayed in the main cavern because she didn't want to get far away from Aang. Speaking of Aang, he was looking better as each day passed. The color had returned to his face, he wasn't as clammy as before, and a new light entered his eyes whenever he looked at Katara. A sense of hope traveled through her chest every time she glanced at him; she had nursed him back to health and they were going to win this thing together, no matter what. 

Katara rummaged through the backpack she had gotten at the Cornucopia, a frown appearing on her face. The rough fabric wasn't giving her the answers she wanted. She thought that they had enough food for another day or so, but there wasn't hardly any food in the pockets of the backpack. So far, it seemed like all she did was find food. This wasn't what she thought the Games were going to be. She thought that all of the crazy good people would kill her off on the first day, barely giving her a second glance. For some odd reason, she was still alive. It was like the Spirits wanted her to keep living, to end this torture. 

She sat back on her heels, dropping the backpack to the floor. In her mind's' eye, she saw her mother and Gran-Gran. They were in the same room Katara had visited them in, though "room" wasn't a good word to describe it. There was just blackness around them, swirling and dancing around, billowing and grabbing at her mom and grandmother. Even with all that going on around them, they stood tall and proud, identical smiles on their faces. That may not have been how they looked when she last saw them, but she was glad that they looked like that in her mind. They deserved the world, and at least she could give it to them now. 

A hand on her shoulder drew her out of her thoughts. She turned to the side to see Aang next to her, a frown on his pretty face. "Are you alright?" he whispered, and it was then that Katara realized she was crying. "What's the matter, Katara?"

"Nothing," she said. It was the truth; she wasn't sad or upset or mad right now. Aang gave her a look, so she said, "I was just thinking about my mom and grandmother." She gave him a soft smile, shrugging. "I miss them."

"Well, when this thing is all over, you can go back to them."

"I wish I could," she said, her smile faltering. "Gran-Gran died right before Sokka and I were brought into the Games. Mom has been missing for years. If I won this thing, which I don't think I could, I would only be going home to my Dad."

"Oh." Aang blinked, drawing his hand back. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thanks," she said awkwardly. Most everyone she knew already knew that her mom was gone; she wasn't used to telling other people. 

"I may not understand your pain, but I do want you to know that they still live on through you," Aang said softly. He was looking at Katara not with pity in his eyes, but with a warm, affectionate gaze. "They live in here." He placed a hand on her chest, right above her heart. "And they'll never leave you."

Katara held back her tears, placing her hand above Aang's. She gave him a watery smile and said, "How do you always do this?"

"Do what?"

"Turn everything into a better light than I have been seeing them in." She laced her fingers through Aang's. "My life has been full of shadows, but you're a light that is slowly breaking through my darkness."

"I've always tried to look on the positive side of things, even if it seems like there isn't any," he explained quietly. "Keeping hope alive is what keeps me alive."

"Well, you and the desire to win this thing are keeping me alive."

They sat there for a second, just staring at each other. A fire had spread through her body, starting at the spot where he was touching her. Even in the dark, she could see his grey eyes shining bright. They were boring into hers, but she didn't break the eye contact. There was something drawing them closer, but right before they could connect, she whispered, "We're running out of food."