Grief wasn't a linear thing.
Katara knew that.
She had mourned her mother, her foremothers, her sisters of the Southern Water Tribe countless times over. Every step, every stitch in her winter coat, every pin in her braids, every pull of water, every reflection of frost, was a reminder of everything she'd lost.
But she was a child of the ocean and a sister to the moon and she had been carved by the ice and tempered by the darkness of her home. Her blood was hot and her teeth were hunter sharp and she'd weathered every storm thrown her way for the people she loved.
She would not mourn Aang as well.
And so Katara stood her ground and bared her teeth and faced down Wan Shi Tong with grief and fury and the support of her friends, there in the dusty library they'd visited once before.
"Where. Is. Aang?"
There were some days when Naomasa really hated his job.
Most days, he wouldn't trade it for anything. He'd dragged himself through the police academy fueled almost solely by caffeine and spite, hidden behind a carefully bland smile. His quirk was useful only in very specific situations, he was told, so he needed to hone other skills.
He did so. Crafted his own image. Friendly, helpful. Plain, unassuming.
Not hero material. Someone who faded into the background.
His choice had puzzled some of his friends when he was younger.
Because everyone wanted to be a hero.
Who wouldn't? It paid well, it got media attention, endorsements, prestige, everything a young aspiring hopeful could want.
No one wanted to do the dirty work behind the scenes.
Thus the police force wasn't exactly, er, brimming with new candidates.
Which honestly, was the way Naomasa liked it. He had his team, his people that he trusted with his life, and any people who weren't completely devoted to helping others in any way they could tended to get quickly weeded out.
(Which wasn't always the case in the Hero profession, but that was a grievance for another time.)
Because currently, Naomasa had to help clean up the third attack on UA this year. And it was a... more difficult and somber process than usual.
The League had taken Aang. The property damage and the injuries sustained by the pro hero teachers weren't too bad, all things considered. Some students had been caught in the crossfire, but ended up unharmed.
No, Aang was the only real loss.
Naomasa had failed him.
... he didn't know if it was a blessing or a curse that they didn't have any parents to break the news to.
Naomasa glanced over to Eraserhead, who was quietly talking to Present Mic, a stormy look on his already grim face.
After all, every adult that cared was already here.
Two villains had ended up being arrested after the attack on UA: Dabi and Compress. Eraserhead had been responsible for both, actually.
Naomasa almost felt sorry for the two of them. Eraserhead had been... lets say particularly irritated with the League of Villains even before they'd decided to attack that night.
His gaze flicked down to the screen of his open laptop, listing the casualties of the attack in plain, impersonal words.
Almost.
YOU ARE READING
In His Element(s) || avatar / bnha
Adventure""So... one more time." Shouta pinched the bridge of his nose, regretting both waking up this morning and possibly existence in general. "You're the spiritual avatar of an entirely different world, and in the process of keeping the peace with said s...
