In His Element(s) || avatar / bnha

Memories and More Planning

The kid was a light sleeper.

Part of it was probably a natural thing. Aang was an energetic individual who reacted to almost everything around him in some fashion. But this went deeper than that.

Aang had taken to sleeping on the spare futon for this arrangement. They ended up in the adjacent dorm rooms more often than not, what with the rotating dorm parent arrangements. Shouta tended to be up at all hours of the night anyways, quietly padding through the rooms to the kitchen for coffee and better lighting from time to time. He knew he was quiet. He had to be, in the underground hero line of work.

But without fail, every time he caught his first glimpse of Aang when coming into the room or moving about, the kid's eyes were open, faintly slitted and gleaming in the low light. He'd never move or acknowledge Shouta passing through, just noted his presence before closing his eyes once more.

It made him wonder, what sort of life Aang must lead in his own world, to have already learned to sleep with one eye open and his back to the wall.

And then there were the nightmares.

The first time he'd seen it, it was the third night Aang had spent in their world. He'd been going through some new case files Tsukauchi had given him, checking for any signs of these "spirits" Aang had talked about. It had crept past midnight while he was on the couch, flipping through pages with burning eyes. The kid had fallen back asleep a short while ago, apparently satisfied that Shouta didn't pose a threat at the moment.

An unexpected murmur brought his head up. Aang slept light and Aang slept still; he'd been able to tell that much even from the limited time he'd seen the kid actually sleeping. In the dim light of the single lit lamp, he could see the features of Aang's face tense. His chin tilted downwards into his collarbone as his brow furrowed, fingers clenching around nothing.

Shouta sighed quietly, concern fading to something remarkably like pity as he watched the kid's eyes flicker beneath his closed lids. He wouldn't be much of a teacher or a hero if he couldn't tell when someone was having a nightmare.

(But he still wished his kids didn't have them.)

This phenomenon continued. More often than not, Shouta found himself in the same room as his temporary ward while the latter was asleep. Aang weathered whatever his unconscious was throwing at him in almost complete silence, twitching slightly from time to time. There would occasionally be little flare-ups from his bending: an almost imperceptible rumble from below or a wisp of frost coalescing at his fingertips.

A bit complicated, true, but it never seemed to go further than that. He supposed he should be grateful. In a building full of sleepy teenagers with potentially destructive quirks, this was hardly the most severe thing he'd had to deal with.

Back in the present, Shouta tapped absentmindedly on the keyboard of his laptop, rubbing at sore, dry eyes.

He'd been awake for hours at this point, sleep as elusive as ever. Aang had slipped out about an hour ago. He didn't see the harm in it. The kid was told to stick close to the building and he had dutifully listened and agreed, much too awake for someone his age to be at dawn . Happily shrugging himself back into his orange robes, he'd trotted off, presumably to do something monk-ish or spiritual. Hell if he knew.

From the steady increase in noise and the faint tone of conversation coming from the common area, it was safe to assume that the rest of the gremlins were starting their morning.

A brief knock on the door in mere formality was the only notice he received before Aang reappeared, smiling and with a faint flush across his cheeks that spoke of recent exercise. Shouta drained his most recent cup of coffee in preparation for the monk's ever-present enthusiasm.