As I Fall: LOK

Chapter Five

The boat approached Republic City the morning of the third day on the voyage.

Haitana found herself grasping the strap of her bag, like it would help ground her anxious feelings, and shakily pulled along the suitcase with hesitancy.

Walking down the ramp, Siso croaked at the sight of a bustling metropolitan, and leaped off her shoulder onto the street. He hopped around, taking in all the scents and wonders, just as Haitana was.

Pickett tucked himself on the brim of her hat, slim, lengthy fingers reaching over to hold on to the edge. Cool waves of air helped alleviate the nauseous feeling that had grown on her from the rocking ship; it was a pleasant day.

Playing with a small piece of parchment, tattered with the ink writing faded, Haitana took another glance at the address her father had given her. It was supposed to be the healing center for various fauna here in the city, owned by one of his work friends who was expecting her presence, but she still felt a dread over take her at the thought of small talk.

Fusing her lips into a tight line, she took one last glance to the expansive water before allowing her feet to carry her into the city. Siso hopped on her rolling luggage, letting the girl tug him along, and every once in a while she felt so small under the stares she had received from passerby's judgmental nature.

Haitana certainly didn't look like the city girl type; she was hardly deemed appropriate for the Fire Nation— with her objectively poor manners and her subjectively poor clothing choices. She wasn't one for such minuscule worries, her clothes were comfortable for her work, and her animals never seemed to mind that she didn't speak like the high society. Sufon used to love that about her. Used to.

Letting out a heart aching sigh, she could remember all those good times she had with the boy before he became so vengeful and out-of-line. It was beyond her how that anarchist group was able to twist his thinking and make him a weapon, rather than the sweet boy she had always knew.

She could remember the first time she met him.
Haitana was only thirteen, and still new to the world— wet behind the ears— but Sufon was completely taken by her.

It was mid spring, and the flowers were in full bloom. Roma had always taken her daughter to see the gardens on the mainland for her birthday; to run amongst the butterflies and Phoenix birds.

Sitting within the tangles of weeds and brambles, Haitana could hardly pay mind to the other young teenagers around her who tossed around a ball in childlike play. She was too caught up in her reading— Love Amongst the Dragons.

"Let me try again," a boy says determinately, a few feet away from the girl. He was sparring with a friend, practicing his sword work. "I can do it this time!"

He glanced to the girl who was reading, so quite and collected; how had she not noticed him yet?

The swords clanged as a mock-battle began, and Sufon brought his sword down, trying to swing at the other boys leg. The boy simply stepped on the sword, trapping Sufon as he tried to desperately pull it away. "What are you doing? What was that?" The friend question accusingly.

Sufon finally retrieved his sword, and rubbed his neck in a sheepish manner. "I was— um, I was trying to sweep the leg?" He said in more of a questioning tone than the answer implied.

The friend followed Sufon's gaze, as it were fixated elsewhere, and settled upon the girl in the flowers— who looked so interested in her book she could jump into the story. "You don't "sweep the leg" in a sword fight," he said sternly, before realizing what Sufon was doing. "Look... if you want to impress the girl—"

"What! No! That's not what I'm doing!"

"Yeah... right," the kid said, unconvinced. He waved Sufon over before whispering in his ear. "If you want to impress her..."

Sufon's eyes widened at the information his friend had given him, nodding his head as his face reddened in embarrassment. "I-I guess I can do that," he stammered; nerves growing every minute.

"Go get her," he encouraged, and Sufon sighed, trying to compose himself with— not so much— grace and poise.

The girl was brought out of the trance the literature had held her in, and tossed her hair over her shoulder. Cascades of brown tumbled over her back, barely peaking out of her hat that looked way too large for her small head. She focused on the boy, who had disturbed her reading without much apology, and scrunched her nose at him.

A fistful of flowers, he extended his arm to the young girl with a bashful smile. "I picked these for you," he said in almost a whisper. "I thought the most beautiful girl in the park deserved the most beautiful flowers."

Haitana couldn't help but scrunch her nose while looking at the roots of the bouquet, all ripped up from the dirt. The girl was sadly naive to romantic gestures, and had only been a know-it-all, show of, when it came to boys— only interested in competition and proving her worth as a bender and a scholar.

"Ummm," she hesitated, unsure about the boy, and sizing him up. He flushed under her careful stare; it was far too intimidating for him to keep his composure. "Thanks, I guess. But those are mantis flowers— they cause really bad rashes when exposed to skin."

Sufon widened his eyes with fear, dropping them quickly before rubbing his hands against his shirt like he was trying to rid them of something. "Oh-yeah, yeah totally I knew that," he claimed, shrugging in feign nonchalantness.

The girl giggled, clearly seeing through his lie, and humored with his childish behavior. "I'm sure you did," she jived, then reached into her burlap sac. "Come here," she waved him to sit by her.

Obliging, Sufon took a seat next to the girl in the tall grass, and she pulled out a glass jar with some type of jelly substance in it. Dipping her fingers in, she scooped up some of the blue color, and grabbed his arm softly. "Wha-what are you doing?" He asked nervously, surprised with the sudden action.

"I'm healing your rash," she giggled, glancing to his eyes before staring intently. "Unless... you want—"

"No, no. Go ahead, sorry," he cut her off urgently.

A ghost of a smile appeared on her face, as she smeared the cure over his reddening hands with ease. "I'm Haitana, by the way," she said shortly, not looking up at the boy who gave her a stare in awe. "But only my parents call me that. My friends call me Ana or Na," she claimed.

"I'm Sufon," he grinned at her. "It's nice to meet you, Na."