The storm didn’t last, of course. It wasn’t like the monsoon rains Yun had gotten used to down in Yokoya, the storms so heavy and thick they would last months on end, entire seasons lost to the ever-present, heavy rain. No, the storms in Makapu were shorter and tamer, at least by comparison. By the time the sun rose a week after Kyoshi officially made her decree at the trial, the skies were clear and blue.

Yun paced around the room of his new home, searching for something to do. He figured he didn’t have much left. The foundations had been raised, the finishing touches had been added, and at the end of everything, he had a house. It was of modest size- more than modest, if he was being truthful with himself- only consisting of two equally sized rooms- a front room and a back. There was a kitchen, and a bed, and an outhouse. There was enough space for him to walk around freely and shelves to hold what belongings he still had. It was as perfect as it could be when consisting of nothing but the bare essentials. He wouldn’t have chosen anything more. He hadn’t chosen anything more.

Three days ago- on the morning after his injury- Kyoshi, the great Avatar Kyoshi, had gathered up the town again to continue the trial, but only to make a single decree under the power of the Avatar. Yun was pardoned of all his crimes. The reality had been as shocking then as it still is now. He was pardoned for all his crimes. They were letting him go.

Not exactly, though, Kyoshi had explained upon being questioned by nearly everyone in the courthouse. She wasn’t simply letting Yun go out into the world to slaughter more innocents. He would be starting over and living as a simple farmer until the end of his days. Even though Kyoshi hadn’t said the words, Yun knew what she was doing. She was letting him disappear into the earth again.

Of course, Yun knew about all of this beforehand. While it had initially been the Avatar’s idea, he and Kyoshi had talked over the plan for hours before presenting it to the public. He knew what was coming. He completely agreed with it. He had even taken a blood oath to prove his own innocence. To his surprise, it was enough. It was all enough. The people of Makapu didn’t forgive him, but they believed him enough to let him walk free.

And Kyoshi had helped him build a home. It had taken a week and both their earthbending skill- ironic, given who the both of them were- but in time, he had his own home. A modest, isolated, two-room home fit not for a murderer or an Avatar, but a farmer.

“You good?” Rangi called out. Yun hadn’t even noticed her lingering in the frame of the front door- his front door.

“Yeah.” Yun sighed as he turned to his old friend. “Yeah, I’m pretty good. You?”

Rangi looked away from him- to the modest decoration of his home. “Yeah. I’m good too. This place is pretty nice. Good for a farmer.”

“It’s good to disappear in.” Yun approached Rangi and offered her what he was holding- a folded bundle of pale green cloth. “Do you want this?”

“Your… old clothes?” Rangi raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

“I don’t have any use for them anymore.” Yun shrugged. “They’re too fine for a random commoner to have, and I am trying to disappear.”

Rangi took the tunic and inspected it. “Huh. I guess that makes sense…”

“Look, if you don’t want to keep it, you can just burn it or something. I don’t care. Preferably not here, though. I don’t want my house to smell like smoke.” He liked calling it his house. It was a reminder that he really was starting again.

“Alright.” Rangi tucked the clothes behind her arm and turned her gaze to the fields outside. “And you’re… ok with this?”

Yun nodded. “Yeah. I really think I am. Are you?”

After a moment of hesitation, Rangi nodded. “I think I am too. I think… I don’t think I ever actually wanted you dead. I didn’t want to mourn you all over again, but I also didn’t want to see you hurt anyone else, including yourself. I just want you to be safe, and happy, and a good person.”

“And?”

“And maybe this can help you be that. It’s not my choice to determine your fate, or Kyoshi’s. It’s your choice how you live your life and what type of life you’re going to live, at this point.”

“Yeah.” Yun nodded. “Unless I kill someone again. Then you’re gonna come and arrest me for real.”

“Yeah, but that’s not going to happen, because you’re a better person now.” Rangi glared at him with almost-mocking seriousness, before sighing. “I’m sorry about everything that happened to you, Yun. I wish I would’ve known earlier, so that none of this would’ve happened the way it did.”

“I think we all wish that.” Yun sighed and leaned up against the stone wall. What a shame that things happened the way they did, that Avatar Kuruk died young and Jianzhu jumped to conclusions and two separate couples abandoned their children on opposite sides of the Earth Kingdom. “What a shame.”

“Yeah... “ Rangi sighed, and straightened her posture. Yun followed her movement. “Well, I came over to tell you that Kyoshi’s in the fields. I think she wanted to say one final goodbye to you before we left back to Yokoya.”

“Alright.” Yun nodded. “I’ll go talk to her.”

Before he could make it fully out the door, Yun was embraced by Rangi. It was the first time in all his memory that she had actually hugged him.

“Thanks.” He whispered as soon as he and Rangi had parted. “For forgiving me.”

“No, you don’t need to thank me.” Tears formed in the corners of Rangi’s eyes, but she didn’t wipe them away. “I think- I think I should be apologizing to you, if anything.”

“Please, don’t.” Yun kept eye contact with Rangi as he walked out of his house. “In the most respectful way, I don’t want your apology. That’s the point of moving on, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Maybe.” Rangi said, stopping to pat Yun on the shoulder. “You should go talk to Kyoshi, though. We’re leaving soon.”

Kyoshi was in the fields, just like Rangi said she would be. She was sitting on the hills, flying a kite. The small, orange glider soared high above the grass fields and the town in the distance, like the figure of a mythical bird.

Yun took a seat next to Kyoshi. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Kyoshi replied. She didn’t take her eyes off the sky. “Did Rangi help you set up your furniture?”

“She was just too late, actually.” Yun laughed. “But we talked. It was nice to talk.”

“That’s good.” Kyoshi replied. “I figured you wouldn’t want my help, and it’s a nice day, so Jinpa suggested we fly kites.”

“Oh. Where’s Jinpa now?”

“He’s getting Yingyong ready to fly back to Yokoya. We’re leaving soon.”

“So I’ve heard. At least you can stay for a bit longer, right?”

“Yeah. We can talk for a bit.” Kyoshi nodded. She looked up. “Y’know, kites remind me of Kelsang, still.”

“Kelsang…” Yun whispered, memories of the kind airbender coming back to him. “Whatever happened to him, by the way?”

“Oh, he died.” Kyoshi’s voice lowered. “Only a while after the spirit took you, he was killed by Jianzhu.”

“Oh.” The pain of the revelation stung more than Yun was expecting. “At least that offers more justification for Jianzhu’s death. Not that I needed it, but…”

“Yeah.” Kyoshi replied. She didn’t say anything more.

“So… here we are. After everything. This is where we end up.”

“Are you happy with it?”

“I think I’m just happy to not be headed to Lake Laogai.” Yun shrugged. “And to never see your face again. No offense.”

“None taken.” Kyoshi sighed, and leaned back on her wrists. The motion caused the kite to lower. “I think it probably is for the best, the way things turned out. I wish things could’ve been better in the past, but we can’t change that.”

“The only thing we can change is the present.” Yun said. He was pretty sure he was misquoting some old airbending guru, but he didn’t care. “And to change the present for the better, maybe we have to drift apart. I don’t think it’s healthy for either of us to stick around each other any longer. You’re the Avatar and I’m-”

“You’re Yun.” Kyoshi cut him off before he even knew what he was going to say. “You’re not the Avatar, and now, you aren’t much else. That’s what moving on means, right?”

“Right.” Yun nodded. “From this moment onward, I’m no longer defined by my past.” The statement seemed almost like a performance. Faced with the pure emptiness of his words, Yun collapsed backwards to look at the sky, fully and completely.

“Are you ready?” Kyoshi followed his movement but kept ahold of her kite.

“I don’t really know what I’m getting ready for.” Yun sighed. He lifted his tattooed arm above him, to block out the sunlight. “Maybe.”

“If we pretend hard enough, maybe we can go back.” Kyoshi sighed. “Even for a moment. Maybe we can get lost in our shared memory, together. That would be nice.”

“It would be a lie.” Yun sighed. He closed his eyes. “We can’t ever really go back.”

“Given the choice, would you?”

“Would I what?”

“Would you go back? Back to when we thought you were the one. The good old days?”

Yun paused to think. “You know, I don’t know if I would. I don’t think I would want to live in that lie again, only to have it inevitably destroy everything. I already had to live through it once, I don’t want to feel that again.”

“That makes sense.” Kyoshi said. “I don’t think I would go back, either. It’s probably a good thing. Living only in memories can do terrible things to a person.”

“Mhm.” Yun nodded and sat up. The wind brushed through his hair- still loose. He hadn’t tied it since he and Kyoshi had fought. In some way, it would’ve felt wrong to.

“If it couldn’t have been me, I would’ve wanted it to be you.” Kyoshi said as she, too, sat up. She didn’t need to specify what ‘it’ meant.

Yun couldn’t think of any answer adequate for Kyoshi’s statement, so he asked a question. “Do you think you’ll regret keeping me alive?”

“Hm. Maybe.” Kyoshi hummed to herself. “Maybe not. We can’t predict the future as much as we can’t change the past.”

“All we have is the present moment.” Yun completed the quote for Kyoshi. It was one of Kelsang’s favorite airbender proverbs, one Yun had never been able to find the source of. “I think I still miss it. I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

“I think I would be lying if I didn’t say the same. It was beautiful, at least for a time.”

“It was. It was a beautiful lie.” Yun said. His gaze travelled to Kyoshi’s kite, a stark contrast against the clear blue sky. “I think I prefer the truth, anyways.”