"Uh-huh..." And what was I even supposed to say to that? Toph... I'm going to tan that little brat's hide! As if tormenting me every night wasn't enough, now she was setting me up too!
"Mm-hmm." My beloved girlfriend tilted her head to one side, her fingers fidgeting against her forearms.
"So... conflict resolved?" I asked, just to be safe.
"There was no conflict." The leader of the Kyoshi Warriors tossed her hair with exaggerated indignation. "I simply wanted to hear it straight from you," she continued with a dignified air, closing her eyes, "and help if necessary."
"And that's why you started the conversation by telling me about your friends' designs on my pants?" I arched an eyebrow ironically.
In response, the girl grabbed those very pants from the chair and threw them in my face.
"And what's this supposed to mean?" I asked, pulling the gifted article of clothing off my head.
"That you should be happy instead of making me blush!" My shirt followed the pants, though this time she aimed for my hands rather than my face.
"Am I not happy?" A delighted smile was already spreading across my face.
"Right now, you look more like you're planning another one of your stunts," Suki declared, thinking she'd seen right through me.
"Oh, how wrong you are!" I sprang off the bed and, catching the girl—who made no attempt to escape—around the waist, pulled her against me. "I'm very happy!" I looked into her eyes and, seeing the same delight there, caught the warrior's soft lips in a kiss...
Unfortunately, we weren't allowed to enjoy ourselves for long. There came a knock at the door, followed by the mocking voice of the shameless provocateur and budding schemer popularly known as the Blind Bandit, sarcastically asking whether we were planning to come down for breakfast or whether she should tell Princess Azula something about our urgent absence.
I looked into my girlfriend's eyes and saw complete agreement with my plans to box a certain someone's ears—and even a willingness to participate. After receiving verbal instructions to get dressed, I watched the girl head for the door.
Swift but righteous retribution, however, was not to be: before Suki could even take her first step, the slap of bare feet sounded outside, and the culprit fled the scene. Where did she even find the energy for all this nonsense? She worked herself just as hard as I did at night, yet somehow she still found the strength to arrange some petty mischief. Little pa-a-arasite... Next time I'd leave her with the badgermoles for an extra half hour!
Warming myself with delightful fantasies of cruel revenge, I went down to breakfast and quickly forgot all about it.
Because everything was terrible.
The Avatar refused to be caught, our agents were twiddling their thumbs, and in general, everything was futility, pain, and depression. As the saying went: Want to ruin your morning? Start it by talking about work. Thank you, Prince, you really picked the perfect time to bring that up. And no, those weren't my words—the phrase was plainly written in Azula's amber eyes as she stared at her wayward brother.
Anyway, one thing led to another, and eventually our harried and somewhat bloodthirsty group made its way to the underground arena to enjoy the sight of people who had it much worse than we did. Meaning, to watch Toph mop the floor with perfectly innocent people. According to the plan, that was supposed to improve our mood. Or at least that was how Azula had laid out the situation...
What could I say about the tournament? Well... To be honest, I wasn't paying much attention. By then, I'd more or less worked out an algorithm for predicting the Avatar and company: imagine what I would never do in a similar situation, multiply it by ten, and expect something roughly around there. So throughout the entire tournament, I kept glancing toward the stands.
Basic logic told me that any remotely sensible person would learn that the Fire Herald was currently visiting the city within about twenty minutes of arriving. Likewise, any sensible person being hunted by the Fire Nation would immediately respond to that information by quietly slipping away as far as possible.
Finally, under absolutely no circumstances would any sensible person even consider attending an underground earthbending tournament in a city where the Fire Herald was staying. I had another three dozen considerations along similar lines, but...
We were talking about the Avatar!
Not only an idealist possessed by the Spirit of Order, but also a kid with a three-foot stick permanently lodged up his ass. And that thought refused to leave me alone throughout every match, forcing me to constantly scan the spectators for a certain group of people who had absolutely no business being here.
It was a horrible feeling...
I only got distracted once, when an obviously theatrical "firebender" stepped into the arena, sporting a gut about half the size of Blast and some gaudy, loud red-and-black cloak draped over his shoulders.
At the sight of this character—who had also stolen my nickname from last year, "Deserter"—Azula's facial muscles suffered some kind of catastrophic malfunction. One half of her face froze in an expression of near-hysterical amusement, the other twisted with a furious desire to kill, and her left eye started twitching.
How things might have ended for the enterprising organizer and his employee, I'm afraid not even my feathered friend from the library that contained all the world's knowledge could have told, but Toph saved the men. Meaning, she pounded the fat man into the dirt so quickly and decisively that the princess immediately relaxed, and I could have sworn I heard a sigh of relief.
(End of Chapter)
P@treon: /SadRaven
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