𝑺𝑬𝑬𝑫 𝑶𝑭 𝑰𝑪𝑯𝑶𝑹 •𝒃𝒙𝒃•

23 ~ the shadows of you

AN: Greetings, I have returned.

He left; Guren left and Aang didn't stop him. He remained by Katara's side, wordlessly watching the older boy's retreating figure. How come it ended like this? How come...Aang was forced to do such a thing? To go to such measures? How come he didn't see the signs earlier? If...he stopped him back at the ship, if he didn't allow him to find out just how easy it was to end a life...would he be standing here in the end, watching him walk away?

It pained him, it really did. To hurt a friend would inevitably hurt him as well. And he did hurt Guren, not physically, but by taking something that he shouldn't have. Something that wasn't Guren's in the first place. Yet that very same thing had been with Guren for years, so long that it became his in the end.

And Aang ripped it from him.

_

Guren hadn't felt an emptiness like this since the day he awoke on the rocking boat, surrounded by nothing but ice. A hollowness that came from deep within, encompassing both his body and soul.

The coldness was still there, tearing through him without a second thought.

So he ran, as long as his frozen bones could last. He ran through the moonlit streets, unfocused eyes darting around yet not seeing anything. His body felt heavy, heavier than ever before, yet he kept on pushing, forcing his muscles, yearning to feel the same warmth he felt before, yearning to feel its scalding heat.

But no matter how much he ran his ribs continued rattling.

One heaving breath after another, his lungs whistled, collapsing under the pressure of his wistfulness. Searing pain pierced his insides but he wouldn't stop, no matter what, not until he felt it again, even if it meant he tore through his own skin to find it. So he did just that. As he ran, not bothering to stop, he wrapped his hand around his own neck and dug his nails in. He gripped as hard as he could, until his throat constricted, until his lungs strained even more, until the burning came back.

Yet it was not the same.

He choked on his spit, a gasp slipping past as he stumbled to the side, knees slamming and knocking something over. A loud clatter echoed, followed by the sound of something cracking.

And a loud voice. "Hey!" Multiple footsteps approached him, and he barely raised his head to look. A hand reached out towards him, fingers outstretched, and he was grabbed by the collar of his shirt. A pale face neared his own, dark eyes staring down at him. "Who the fuck do you think you are, huh, runt?!"

His head craned back, neck locked in an uncomfortable position. He didn't bother answering, and instead tried grabbing at the wrist that held him. The moment he did so, he was pushed back and just barely caught sight of a fist nearing his face. Burning pain exploded behind his eyelids and tears immediately spurred from the force. He felt his teeth dig into his cheek, a metallic taste flooding his mouth. The strength of the punch made him stumbled backwards, and, with the hand no longer holding his collar, he had nothing to stop him from crashing into the ground.

Someone snorted from in front of him. Through blurry eyes, he saw three people loom overhead, all staring down at him.

"You broke something of mine. It is only fair I get to break something of yours."

Guren watched him pull his leg back.
.
.
.
They left him on the ground, aching and bleeding. He turned his head to the side and spat the blood out. For a few moments, he waited, but nothing happened. Gritting his teeth, he pushed himself up, only to fall back down with a quiet hiss as his ribs throbbed. Furious, he stared into the ground, digging his fingers into the dirt. Again, his sight went blurry. He tried, he really, really tried to stop the tears from falling, but he failed. They splatted into the dirt, one after another, without stop.