𝑰𝒕'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕 𝑨𝒍𝒍 𝑹𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒔

Chapter 5

After the preliminary drills and practice, the recruits began to use moving targets. This was after majority of them had proved that they could hit the immobile red bull's-eye with a success rate of five out of six shots. The mobile targets were set up on some sort of wooden contraption that allowed them to turn and rise and fall, depending on the preset pattern.

These targets were painted green with flat death-white faces. The eyes were empty holes drilled into the plywood, staring blankly at her.

Katara couldn't take her eyes off them.

Hiro grinned as he picked up a bow from the rack, and several arrows. "Pretty life-like, eh?"

Juiko smiled back in agreement, and Katara just silently picked up her own equipment.

They're just pieces of wood, Katara. Don't shit yourself over it.

As they began to shoot, Katara pretended to fumble with her bow, saying out loud that this one was defective, and she needed to get a better one. When she finally got back into position, she looked over at Oran, who was standing next to her. He had already made six shots, feathered arrows sticking out of his chosen target. Katara was a bit surprised—archery wasn't generally one of Oran's greater strengths.

Hiro noticed as well. "Good job there, Oran," he said approvingly.

Oran said nothing, but unleashed a seventh arrow with more force than necessary; it soared through the air before sinking into the chest of a green-painted figure. The expression on Oran's face was one of strangely controlled anger. It fascinated Katara, at the same time scaring her. Oran wasn't a man with temper. He was generally quiet and accepting and he didn't seem to have a drop of malice in him.

He relaxed his bowstring, and saw all of his fellow archers looking at him. Hiro was curious, Juiko hesitant, Katara quiet, and Borr indifferent.

Oran's voice was clipped. "My father and sister were killed in a rebel raid a year ago."

Turning away from them, he picked up his bow and resumed his practice.

Katara felt sick to her stomach.

"Well, then, you've got more right to be here than any of the rest of us," Hiro said quietly, his usual smile replaced by a somber look.

For awhile they all thought Oran wasn't going to respond. Then he gave a short, accepting nod, without taking his eyes of his target.

Everyone took it as a sign to get back to their own business. Hiro picked up his bow, and Juiko absent-mindedly rearranged a few feathers on one of his arrows.

Katara took a deep breath and got into position.

Oran's father and sister... Katara wasn't stupid. She knew what Kyoshi warriors did. She knew killing people, including neutral civilians, was a part of war. Casualties on both sides always included the innocents. It was a fact of life. It's not my fault! But she couldn't shake the image of the deep, indescribable pain in Oran's eyes as he spoke.

With a steady hand, she picked up her bow, notched an arrow, and shot one, two, three into the targets circling in front of her eyes.

Stomach, head, and heart.

Her own brother's eyes stared at her from the holes in the face of the target she'd shot.

She knew it would be awhile until she could look Oran full in the face again.

"I think I'm going to pee my pants," Katara hissed, jumping from foot to foot.
Juiko grinned. "Pick a tree, any tree." He motioned outside with one arm.

She glared at him. The feeling of anticipation, fear, and nervousness rolled like an oily mass inside her stomach. Sitting inside the small anteroom connected to the side of the arena were all the recruits that had been training here for the past three weeks. Everyone had a different expression on their faces, most of them along the lines of what Katara was feeling. Oran sat so still in his seat he could have been a statue. Hiro made weak jokes which everyone laughed at. Not because they were funny, but because the tension was so overbearing that laughter was the best outlet they could find. Juiko seemed uncannily calm, while Borr just sat by himself, that haughty look on his face.