TOMOKO - burning gold. (atla)

f o u r t e e n | THE STORM

now

TRUE TO IROH'S PREDICTION, THE SKY ABOVE THE SEAS were turbulent and grey. The distant roar of thunder echoed through the ship's metal walls, booming over and over in an endless symphony. Tomoko was in the bathroom of her quarters, her hair wet and straight after a long bath. After her relaxing afternoon the day previous with Iroh, she felt it important to enjoy the peace while it lasted. Plus, she was extremely sweaty after the match with Zuko. She sat at her vanity, eyes trailing every so often through the window. She pulled an ivory comb through her tangled hair, humming to herself.

Today was it. The anniversary. The tenth one. Ten long, painful, lonely years. Ten years the world had been empty of the spirit of Shizuki Ishida. One decade of his daughter being an official orphan.

The more time that passed, the easier it was, almost, for Tomoko to feel everyday. She had only had six years with her own father, it wasn't like she'd known the man well. She'd lived more of her life absent of him than with her father in her life. Yet on this day, it was always painful. All of the memories that haunted her, all of the things she wished she could have said or had since wanted to ask him- it all came rushing to her once more. Tomoko Ishida was reminded of what she didn't have.

She chuckled to herself slightly, shaking her head at the storm outside. It was convenient, the storm. Nature was delivering a very real example of the emotions within her, as if her feelings were on display for everyone around her.

Iroh had come to understand that the girl wished to spend a day like this alone. The first few anniversaries he tried to provide comfort to the little girl, but she was stubborn. She would bottle up the emotions she was feeling whenever another person was in her presence. That would then result in her anger and she would lash out at people. Instead, they came up with a system. Tomoko would have the day to herself, and the day after they would spend as much time together as they could, doing whatever they wanted. The last few years whilst traveling the world, they'd started to celebrate together by indulging in many cups of tea and games of Pai Sho.

As Tomoko sat in front of the mirror, she braided her hair absentmindedly. She looked at her reflection, observing the girl in front of her. The woman in front of her. Uncle always told her that she was the spitting image of her father, and from the one painting she had of him, she could see it to be true. She had his olive skin, his muscular build, his height. Her round, golden eyes and her curly hair were supposedly from her mother, but she wouldn't know. She'd never met her, nor did she have anything in her image. The only memory she had of her description was from when she was a young girl.

"Papa?" A small voice asked called.

Shizuki's attention was drawn from the scroll in his lap to the child who was just shorter than his knees. He raised his brows.

"Yes, Priya?" Shizuki asked, using his nickname for her.

"Do I have a Mama?" She looked at his with wide, curious eyes. She stuck her thumb into her mouth as she stood beside him. The father was caught off guard, and his jaw slacked as he thought of any way to answer. Should he tell her? He wondered. He wanted to spare his most treasured thing, his priya, of the pain that he had suffered from. He didn't want to lie to her by telling her no, but he didn't want to pain her if he told her yes.

Shizuki sighed, placing the scroll on the desk in front of him. He crouched slightly and opened his arms wide for his daughter, beckoning her into his lap. The child immediately bolted forward and climbed his legs, curling into him with comfort.