ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴀᴛ's ʟᴇғᴛ || ᴀɴ ᴀᴛʟᴀ ᴀᴘᴏᴄᴀʟʏᴘsᴇ ғᴀɴғɪᴄ

c̷h̷a̷p̷t̷e̷r̷ ̷1̷

Aang woke up — early, as usual — with no logical explanation as to why he was in such a good mood. The alarm displayed 7:13, thirteen minutes past the usual time he was supposed to wake up, not to mention it was a Monday.

His mind clearly lacking a sense of how or why he'd missed his alarm thirteen minutes ago, he launched himself out of bed, his perky frame of mind practically soaring as he stared at the clouds outside his window. 

Distinctly matching the color of his eyes, they were an eerie gray, raising the certainty for a possible thunderstorm. As the strong winds moved them quickly across the October sky, they rumbled every now and then, as if they were just aching to burst with heavy rain.

This, however, didn't ruin his mood one bit. It was merely after shuffling his feet across the floor and enthusiastically throwing on his school uniform that he felt a twinge of suspicion.

Maybe it was the icy bite in the air that sent chills down his spine, or the waistband of his pants hugging his waist a little too tightly. Aang couldn't explain it, but either way, something didn't feel right.

At the moment, there was nothing but him. Silence rippled through every wall of the apartment he shared with his guardian, Gyatso, a little too quiet for his own being. 

Aang could practically hear his footsteps echo as he walked from his room to the start of his open doorway. Right then, he shivered, questioning why doing such a simple task seemed so unsettling all of a sudden.

"Gyatso?" Aang called out, hearing no answer afterwards. With a heavy sigh, he sauntered down the hallway, his light and petite frame creating more pressure on the wood than he thought there to be. Since Aang and Gyatso were usually the only ones in the house, he was used to it being quiet most of the time.

But this felt different; as if he couldn't do any of his day-to-day tasks without getting a daunting feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

He didn't know what was going on, but he figured it wouldn't hurt to worry just a little. He'd decided to scan the house for a note, or something that would hopefully keep his mind off his paranoia.

Finally looking on the fridge, he noticed a yellow note taped onto the surface, written in neat handwriting:

Left early — the staff had an important announcement and needed me there. I'll see you at school ت

Aang sighed in relief. How could he have forgotten to speculate that Gyatso was at work?

Grabbing a blueberry muffin from the kitchen, he began wolfing it down quickly as he slung his backpack over his shoulder.

Every weekday, Aang usually took the bus to school, but with his happy, calm demeanor, he made the decision to walk instead. 

However, he ended up regretting that option soon enough.

Only around five minutes had passed before he felt a small droplet of water splash on his forehead, causing him to break into a faster pace. Forgetting a raincoat had been his first mistake of the day, and he didn't plan on getting drenched before taking the exam he had to take the minute he set foot in his school. 

The atmosphere didn't seem to eradicate his relaxed demeanor, either — although the neighborhood seemed quieter and the streets looked a lot more busy, his optimistic state of mind remained no matter how unfamiliar things were getting.

At this time of the day, he never expected anyone else to be up this early, shoving their families and bags into their cars and driving away. Much less did he expect to be hearing fragments of heated arguments from his neighbors, and it took all he had to not intervene and ask what was going on.

He knew he was yet to find out what could be causing all this unfamiliarity, and it was just his luck that his school was the right place to be let in on the most recent gossip.

But for now, he had to manage watching his neighbors rush into their car in a panic, and while giving it all he had to not get soaked.

Hopefully, everything would be normal once he got to school.

○●○●

"Are you serious?" Aang asked his friend, Kuzon, as he slammed his locker shut.

"Yeah," Kuzon responded. "They say it's some kind of virus."

"Like...the flu?"

"I don't know. They said if it gets out of hand, they'll evacuate the city."

"Well, why are we here, then? It could be airborne."

"I don't know. It could be."

The pair soon parted ways and headed to their respective classes. As Aang sat down at his desk in his psychology class, he tapped his fingernails on his desk while he awaited the teacher's presence. 

Several minutes had passed, Aang's teacher arrived, and the lesson proceeded. While Aang fiddled around with his pencil instead of actually doing the exam, he pondered the events that'd happened that morning, and how it must've connected to the virus that his friend mentioned. 

His concern about that morning's events increased by the minute. His heart beat out of his chest ever so rapidly, betraying his laid-back façade. If the people in his city were evacuating because of this virus, then it could be a lot more dangerous than he thought.

His thoughts immediately died away once he heard screaming among the hallways.

Soon enough, the classroom walls pulsated with nervous chatter from Aang's classmates. Clusters of fear rippled throughout the area, and soon, everyone began panicking.

Aang's teacher muttered something under his breath. He couldn't hear what he said, but there was no doubt about the fear in his voice. That instantly sent endless chills down his spine, and left his breath trembling. 

At fifteen, he was well on the road to adulthood, but that didn't mean he'd surpassed the age where grown-ups were who he turned to when in the face of danger. They were who he could always rely on to have all the answers — to never get confused or scared about something, and to always sort out a reasonable solution that would leave everyone satisfied. 

But knowing his teacher — the only adult in the room — was just as horrified as everyone else, felt exactly like a kick in the stomach.

The intensity of the panic drastically increased when someone in the classroom screamed. Most of the kids, including Aang, gazed over at the classroom door, only to notice in horror that a bloody hand had slammed against the surface of the door's window.

At this point, Aang was in shock. His confident aura had completely disappeared, with no evidence of it returning any time soon. He worried about Gyatso, if he was anywhere near safe in the midst of all this madness. 

The young teen was beyond terrified. For the first time ever, he was experiencing a day in his life where nothing made any sense. 

What really freaked him out was that he never imagined it could be this scary. 

Even more apprehension churned in Aang's stomach when the person sitting behind him began to cough violently.