Kyoshi didn’t take him back to the apothecary, or even back to the courthouse. She didn’t take him by the hand or lift him like he was her lover, but guided him by putting her warm hand across his shoulder, firm and strong and supportive. She took him to the inn she, Rangi and Jinpa were staying in. She said it would be warm inside, and they could both recover from the rain in the semi-privacy. She was right; of course. Yun was just starting to realize how right Kyoshi always was.

The hotel’s receptionist- a young girl with curly dark hair and a face Yun was sure he had seen before- seemed surprised to see them. She watched them with disgust- or maybe fear, or even reverence in Kyoshi’s case- as the two of them took off their rain-soaked coats and shoes and put them by the door.

“Good evening, Fen.” Kyoshi greeted, digging in her pockets to produce a small coin, which she tipped the desk girl with. Fen, so that was her name. Yun didn’t know if he remembered it or not. There were too many schoolgirls in Makapu for him to have kept track of every one of them.

It didn’t really matter if he remembered Fen, though. Because it was clear as day that she remembered him. “Yun- you’re the-“ she glanced up at Kyosh. “You’re with the Avatar? I thought you died after… Y’know…. but….”

Kyoshi looked between the two. “You two know each other?”

“I am from here, you know.” Yun grumbled. “But yeah. Kind of. It’s Fen, right?”

“You stole my lunch for three years straight!” Fen scoffed and looked to Kyoshi, as if they were close friends instead of near strangers. ‘Can you believe this?’ The look said. ‘He really forgot everything about his homeland the minute he stepped into power’.

“Anyways,” Fen continued. “What brings you back to Makapu? You helping the Avatar with that murder trial?”

Kyoshi’s hand traveled to Yun’s back. Did she fear he would collapse back onto her? “Yun’s actually being tried.” She said.

Oh. Yun thought as he collapsed backwards into his friend's arms. So that’s why she was supporting him.

“Oh.” Fen’s voice deepened. “Well, the trial’s probably going to be postponed for a while, anyways. You guys probably made the right decision coming here. Should I get a fire started in your room?”

“No, I’ve got it. Thank you.” Kyoshi smiled. Of course. She was a firebender, after all. She led him out of the room. Yun fought the urge to melt in his arms, as if they were lovers.

The room Kyoshi was staying in was small and modest, at, and least on the surface level, looked nearly identical to the courthouse room Yun had spent the last night in. It was clean and tidy and smelled of lavender, all things Yun found himself associated with the Kyoshi he knew before. Did Kyoshi like lavender, he wondered. He hadn’t ever heard her speak on the matter.

There were two futons, both of material ten times better than that of the bedroll he had slept on, and a fireplace in the center of the room, to provide warmth.

“It gets pretty cold here in the winter.” Yun explained as Kyoshi led him to the futon farthest from the door and sat him on top of it. “That’s why there’s a fireplace. To warm the area.”

“Makes sense.” Kyoshi sat down opposite Yun, on the futon he guessed was hers. “I think we have something similar down in Yokoya. You know, our hometowns aren’t that different when you think about it.”

“Really?” Yun had actually never seen much of Yokoya port outside of his own mansion.

“Yeah. Small Earth Kingdom towns isolated from the rest of the world, there’s a bit of overlap there. I like it here better, though. The scenery is very pleasant.”

“Jianzhu thought that.” Yun mused. He didn’t know what he was saying, or even why. It just seemed like the right thing to say. “He liked how Makapu looked but he didn’t like the people.”

“I take it you don’t like the people, either?”

Yun paused.

“Hei-Ran… told me how you grew up.” Kyoshi spoke slowly. I’m… I’m also an orphan, though you probably already knew that. My parents were Daofei, they left me in Yokoya when I was only six.”

“Oh.” Yun looked down. He didn’t want to look Kyoshi in the eye when she was laying herself bare in front of him. What could he tell her in return? “I don’t know what happened to my parents. I’m pretty sure they died.” What a lie. “I’ve been alone since I was… five or six, I think. The people of Makapu… they kept me alive only as much as they had to. I learned how to survive on my own, without them. Without anyone.”

Kyoshi nodded, but didn’t say anything. She turned to the fireplace. Yun couldn’t bear to watch as she let the flame roll off her hand, controlling its flare with gentle motions of her hand. He had tried so hard to do what she did with so little effort. He didn’t need to watch the fire to feel its warmth, and despite everything, every instinct telling him not to relax, it was pleasant.

“Here.” Kyoshi said. Yun looked up to see his friend handing him a folded blanket. “You’re drenched, you must be freezing.”

“Thanks.” Yun whispered as he took the blanket and draped it across his shoulders. As he pulled the woven quilt over his shoulders, he realized the geometric pattern decorating the fabric was the same one imprinted into his memories. “I think my mother made this.”

“Oh?” Kyoshi asked.

“Yeah. She was the village weaver, she made blankets and cloaks and even jewelry for the entire town.” Yun felt his hand travelling up to his chest, searching for something he hadn’t realized was absent. “She- she made me this pendant, once. A protection amulet to ward off evil spirits.” A lot of good that had done him. “I used to wear it all the time, but I- I don’t know where it went. I must have lost it.” A final gift from a mother who had abandoned him, and he had lost it. What a terrible, misfortune son he was.

“I, uh, might know.” Kyoshi dug in the pockets before producing a small object- small enough that it was completely obscured by her hand until she showed it to him. It was his pendant. She had his pendant- the same woven pendant he had worn daily. He picked it up and ran his fingers against the textured pattern- the same pattern woven into the blanket across his shoulders. “This- this is it.” He whispered as he tied it behind his neck and let it fall to his chest. He didn’t bother tucking it into his shirt like he had when he was younger. “Where- how did you find it?”

“You were wearing it when- when we fought.” Kyoshi looked down. “I found it when I was healing you, when you were knocked out. No one had seen anything like it before. I was meaning to give it back to you, but there never was the time.”

There never was the time. Neither of them ever had any of the time. “Yeah… it’s a Makapu thing, I’m pretty sure. Some of the other villages have similar weaving traditions, but ours are pretty unique. My mother’s, especially. She would weave the same pattern into everything, to show the world it was her who made it.”

“She- she sounds like you.” Kyoshi whispered.

“Mmh. I lied about her, earlier. I don’t actually know if she died. She abandoned me and moved south. She could still be alive, for all I know.”

“That’s not a lie. You just didn’t tell the full truth.” Was there a difference, Yun thought. At least there was Kyoshi.

“It’s not the only thing I’ve been lying about.”

The room grew silent, save for the crack of the fire.

Kyoshi took a risk, and spoke first. “You really want me to kill you, don’t you.”

“Yeah- yeah.” Saying it outloud felt wrong. He wasn’t supposed to let her know this much. He wasn’t supposed to lay himself out, bare and empty. “I don’t know if it would have to be you, specifically. Maybe it would be better if it wasn’t you. I’m not sure.”

“Are you sure?” Kyoshi didn’t jump to stop him, or berate him with her own worry. “I- I don’t want to regret my decision.”

“I can’t regret if I’m dead, right?” He laughed. “That’s the point, isn’t it? To stop the pain of having to make decisions? To move on from everything and leave the world behind?”

“I’d still be alive. And… I think I’d regret it. You deserve to live, Yun. You deserve to be able to move on. I want you to move on.”

He didn’t reply.

“Do you want to move on?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, I think you can.” Kyoshi sighed. “This is harder than I thought. It’s all harder than I thought.”

“Avatarhood?”

“You. I didn’t think it would be this hard. I don’t know what to do.”

“I don’t think anyone knows.”

“I- when we fought, I thought I was going to kill you. I had made up my mind about it.” Kyoshi paused. “You wouldn’t have been my first kill, and you wouldn't have been my last. That’s what I kept telling myself, to make it seem ok.”

“And yet you didn’t go through with it.”

“I didn’t. Because I was scared.”

“Scared of what, me?” To say the fear was unjustified would’ve been a lie, but it would’ve hurt to admit that.

“Scared of what I would become if I did it. Scared of what that would mean about me. I don’t want to have to kill my friend just because…”

“Because I deserve it.”

“No. No. You deserve a chance to move on and grow.”

“You’d be willing to risk my wrath upon the world because we used to be friends?”

“I know. It doesn’t make any sense.” Kyoshi sighed. “But you- you haven’t been fulfilling your own promises. You said you’d kill Hei-Ran, and yet… you don’t even try.”

Yun looked down and idly ran his fingers over his pendant. “I’m tired, Kyoshi. I- I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“What were you planning on doing, if I had never interfered?”

“I didn’t have a plan. I was hoping you’d interfere.” Oh. He was really letting his guts spill in front of his friend now. “I wanted you to join me, so we would go down together in one last blaze of terrible glory, maybe. Or maybe I just wanted you to hate me like everyone else does.”

“Do you really want to die?” Kyoshi asked. She didn’t look him in the eye. “I need to know if that’s really what you want. If it is… then I’ll go through with it.”

“I’m not sure.” Yun pulled his knees to his chest. “I don’t know where else I can go. I don’t- I don’t want to just rot away in prison. I want to start over again.” He bit back his tears. “I don’t think I can be your friend anymore. I think me dying is the only real end to this story.” The fallen hero, broken and forlorn, met his untimely end after a life of tragedy, and it was a mercy upon him so that he wouldn’t have to live with his misery any longer.

“Maybe it doesn’t have to be.” Kyoshi sighed. “Maybe you don’t have to die to start over.”

Even though Yun didn’t know what his friend was saying, he nodded along. “Yeah. Maybe.”