When Midori wakes up, the sun is already past its peak in the sky.
That never used to happen before. Sleep was a precious, scarce resource they never seemed to get enough of, Haya rousing them as soon as she woke up herself. People in their small corner of Gaoling rose at first rooster call, no matter if they worked the fields or not, and Midori and her sister were to be no exception, even as outcast among the people as they were. Any pleading for "five more minutes" would go ignored or, if Haya was particularly annoyed that morning, punished.
(A distant, hazy memory floats to the surface of her mind of being woken up by movement, herself being picked up and pressed against something warm, soft and sturdy.
"Shh, we have to get going, Seedling, but it's alright, I've got you. You can sleep some more," a male voice said, impossibly gentle. A calloused hand brushed hair away from her forehead.
Midori hummed in agreement and nuzzled closer into the warmth, the steady rhythm beating under her ear easily lulling her back to sleep.)
She digs her nails into her palm to banish the image.
Not now.
Not when they're...
She gets up and immediately heads downstairs, not even bothering to change out of her night clothes. Not like there is much of a difference between the tanktops and sweatpants she wears to bed and the ones she wears outside. The latter were just slightly more presentable, now that they could actually afford better quality clothes thanks to Renny–
A cold chill runs through her. Suddenly she's very, very glad she didn't put on any of the new clothes Renny had gifted her over the past two and a half years. Every time she remembered just how her sister had earned the money to buy them, she felt sick to her stomach.
The clothes on her back, the food she ate, every small treat Suiren presented her with in hopes that it would make up for the last thirteen years... it was all paid for with people's lives. So many people, dead, killed by her sister's hand, all because of her. Because Suiren wanted her to have a better life.
How dare she claim to be better than the likes of the Earth Queen, living off the suffering of people who had likely never done anything to deserve death? She was no different, and it didn't matter that she lived in a small house on the outskirts of one of the poorest districts of Gaoling instead of the grand, luxurious palace in Ba Sing Se. Living in poverty didn't give her the right to people's lives.
And yet for all her moral outrage, she never once told Suiren that no amount of money was worth doing what she did, if not for the sake of the people whose lives she took, then for her own. What worth was a better life if her sister's humanity was the price? So much of her was already lost, more and more slipping away every time she left.
How long until that hollow-eyed ghost that took her beloved sister's place faded away completely?
She stops abruptly in the doorway to the kitchen, shaking her head to clear it. She shouldn't think like this, she knows, and not only because of the fear of seeming ungrateful. What was the point of such thoughts if all they would achieve is her worrying about Suiren even more than she already does? Especially now, when Suiren was away on yet another job? When Midori was already scared sh*tless that she wouldn't return? When their parents were–
"Stop it!" she hisses to herself in a voice not her own. It's surprisingly effective at getting her mind to shut up.
How could it not be, if that voice belongs to Haya? Even with her influence over them lessening ever since Suiren became an assassin, the mere sound of voice, or of a scarily accurate impression of it, was enough to make Midori fall over herself in a rush to follow whatever command was issued, the fear of punishment so deep-seated in her it became practically second nature. Haya had trained her well.
If the knowledge that Suiren was fully capable of killing and would not hesitate to do so if provoked was enough to unnerve Haya and make her finally leave them alone for the most part, then the recent news made her downright terrified and avoidant to the point of barely acknowledging them at all. She didn't even bother to wake them up in the morning anymore, let alone call them lazy good-for-nothings for wanting to sleep in.
Haya was scared that when their parents came for them, she would finally face consequences for everything she's done. Midori's best guess was that the avoidance was her way of trying to lessen the upcoming retribution.
"I will leave you alone, just don't tell your father about what I did to the children he entrusted me with."
Yeah, right. Keep dreaming, you vile excuse of an aunt.
Midori blinks. Where had such venom come from? What happened to the sweet girl who never said a bad thing about anyone, not even the woman who spent thirteen years watching their every move like a hawk, looking for any excuse to beat them senseless?
Who cares. A little longer and she will never have to worry about what she does and doesn't say about Haya ever again. Just a little longer. A few weeks at most, and then their parents will finally...
She exhales sharply, forcing her mind to be quiet. She cannot afford to think like this, she can't, no matter how much she wants to say "f*ck it" and give into that naive hope that their luck is changing at last, that they'll regain the family they missed for so long, that finally, finally everything will be okay.
But she can't. Hope is a cruel, fickle thing that must never be yielded to under any circ*mstances, lest it lead to even more heartbreak. And it will, inevitably, because life is anything but merciful. Better push it down, extinguish that spark within herself, go on as normal, as she has for all these years, and pretend that nothing is happening. And when, and only when their parents actually come for them will she allow herself to hope that better days lie ahead.
'If they come for them,' her mind unhelpfully supplies.
Letting out a huff of frustration, she reaches up and tugs at a handful of her hair, a silent warning to herself to cut it out – she's not sure what she expects, she isn't like Renny for whom the smallest pull of her long hair results in a full body shutdown, it won't do anything but cause her some brief and mild discomfort. And yet she does it anyway, as if hoping it would work just this once.
What a horrible thing to wish for.
"Pull yourself together, Girl, you have work to do," she harshly whispers to herself, once again putting on her Haya voice. Maybe this will finally kick her into doing something other than standing around uselessly.
But as she looks around, she immediately realises that she doesn't actually have anything that needs doing.
Ever since they got the news, she's been desperate to keep herself occupied at all times, doing chores being the only thing that stops her thoughts from running wild, reaching topics she'd rather not dwell on. She's also been desperate to talk to someone, to make sense of all the conflicting feelings swirling inside her, but Suiren left two days before then and Haya was the last person she ever wanted to talk feelings with, even if the last direct interaction they had wasn't a shared disbelieving glance as the old, barely working radio sputtered out the words she's been aching to hear since she was four years old. As soon as the report ended, Haya got up and abruptly left for work, leaving Midori alone in stunned silence. They've been ignoring each other ever since.
Not that she minded, being ignored by Haya was nothing short of a blessing, but with news as improbable as these, she found herself almost craving to hear one of Haya's spiteful remarks. Anything to prove to herself that she didn't imagine the whole thing. But Haya seemed set on acting like she never heard that report, that the news weren't the talk of the town for the past week, so Midori wasn't granted even that small reassurance.
Of all the times for Haya to finally shut up...
Midori looks around, gaze jumping from the empty sink to the clean floor to the freshly beaten out rug, her shoulders dropping as she, for the first time in her life, found herself with nothing to do. With how keen she was to drown out her thoughts with chores, she must have cleaned the entire house top to bottom at least three times. And she cooked yesterday, enough to last another day or two. She'd even polished the bathtub recently...
She could, of course, go over something that had already been cleaned again, like giving the floors another scrub, but all that would result in would be sore knees and no visual changes. So perhaps... she didn't have to do anything and could rest easy knowing that she wouldn't be reprimanded. Give herself a day of rest, maybe? And so she doesn't start feeling guilty for slacking, she can call the day off a gift to herself, and it is very rude to refuse a gift.
It's not every day one turns seventeen, after all.
A small smile pulls at her lips.
She crosses the kitchen and slides open the back door, stepping outside. It's a warm and sunny but humid day, like her birthday always is, but a slight breeze assures her that spending some time outside wouldn't be completely miserable. She wouldn't mind either way, she's always liked warmer temperatures, the same way Suiren always lamented the lack of snow this far south. Contrary to all logic, the weeks surrounding Suiren's birthday – the Winter Solstice; of course someone as exceptional at waterbending as Suiren picked that exact day to push her way into the world. On a full moon, too. Maybe that's why she's so gifted – were always some of the driest, during which Suiren often talked about the delightfully cold winters they used to spend in the northern Earth Kingdom. Midori never could quite recall what was being described.
There she goes again.
Giving her head another shake, Midori steps further out and plops down in a sunspot on the deck, sinking her bare feet into the grass. It's pleasantly warm and she can't help but push into it a little, chasing the sensation. She'd lie down in it fully if she could, but then she'd gave to wash the grass stains out of her clothes, and she had just given herself the day off. Leaning back and enjoying the warmth of the grass on her feet and the sunlight on the rest of her skin will have to suffice.
Maybe if she sits here long enough, her freckles will show through again. She's always liked the way her face looked when they did, despite Haya always getting even more snappy than usual if she noticed them on her, for reasons Midori was not privy to.
A big, brown, furry mass sprawled out at the tail end of the garden finally notices her presence and rolls over to stand up and move towards her. Midori can't help but grin wider.
"Hey, girl," she says as Lottie gets close to her, lowering her head to be petted. Midori happily obliges and the moose-lion leans into her touch, going as far as pushing against her palm, demanding more. Midori brings up her other hand to scratch behind one of Lottie's ears, still as floppy as when she was a cub. Lottie happily purs and lies down, placing her head on Midori's lap, as always extremely careful not to hurt her with either her antlers or her fangs. Midori settles into a comfortable rhythm of stroking down from Lottie's forehead to the base of her neck.
Lottie uses the opportunity to lick a long stripe up Midori's forearm.
"Is that my birthday present from you?" Midori giggles, not even minding it. The moose-lion purrs as if agreeing with her. She always was good at understanding human speech, as strange as that was.
Midori smiles. "In that case, thank you very much. I'm just getting showered in gifts this year, aren't I?"
Of course, no amount of days off or Lottie's comforting brushes against her could replace the one present she yearns for the most. It was what she wished for every time for the last twelve birthdays, a desperate plea to the Spirits never uttered out loud. But even so, Suiren always knew, Midori could tell by the glint in her eyes every time she told her to make a wish.
It always seemed so ridiculous, so improbable, even back when she was a child young to believe in miracles. Still, she never once wished for anything else. What else could she possibly want from life? What else could possibly warrant wasting the one yearly wish she got?
Twelve years worth of wishing with nothing but cold silence from the Spirits, and yet, against all odds, this time it seemed like it might actually come true.
"Lucky number thirteen, huh?" she mutters to no one in particular. She still has no guarantee that what she's hoping for will actually happen, but... at least this time, it was possible, unlike all those previous years.
At least this time, they were free.
Something hot and wet drops onto her exposed collarbone. She realises belatedly that it was a tear.
Lottie lets out a concerned whine.
"It's okay, Lottie, I'm okay. I'm not crying," she rubs Lottie's snout, wiping at her cheeks with her free hand. Lottie pressed closer to her, dead set on bringing her as much comfort as possible, just as she always did. Just how many of her tears had Lottie's fur soaked up over all this time?
Midori lays her head against Lottie's forehead, wrapping her arms around her neck properly.
"You don't even know what I'm crying about, do you?" she asks, her voice muffled by the fur. "You probably don't even remember them."
As if she herself were any better.
Most of her memories of the life she had Before had long since faded, faces blurred beyond recognition, everything disappearing so slowly she wasn't even aware it was happening until one day, she suddenly realised she could no longer remember what she once took for granted.
The taste of Dad's cooking, the touch of Mama's water arms, the warmth of Auntie's embrace, the sound of Uncle's voice... all of it, gone. Dissipated like the morning mist.
Will it all come back when she sees her parents again? Will it all even be the same, after thirteen years of separation? Of course not, how could it possibly be?
And how could a mere possibly be expected to remember their parents when Midori herself couldn't, especially given that Lottie only knew them for a few months at most?
"You were only a cub back then, obviously you don't remember," she says, pulling back from the animal. She's not sure whether she's talking to Lottie or to herself. "You used to love sleeping curled up in Auntie's lap, though."
Now, where did that memory come from?
She continues, resuming her petting of Lottie's fur. "You've grown so big, I miss the time when we could easily carry you around, or when you needed help getting up the stairs, or when you had your little den under Renny's bed. Now you can't even fit in the house anymore. I miss when you were that small."
"You know, I was just about to say the same thing about you."
Midori whirls around, half expecting what she just heard to be her brain playing tricks on her. She wasn't supposed to be back until the end of the week.
And yet, there Suiren is, leaning against the doorframe, one corner of her mouth pulled in an amused smile. For once, it actually reaches her eyes.
"Renny!" Midori exclaims, barely resisting the urge to jump up and tackle her in a hug. Ever since she took up her job, Suiren's gotten ever more sensitive to touch than before.
Sensing her hesitation, Suiren approaches her instead, sitting down just outside the sunspot Midori claimed – she never did like direct sunlight much – and dropping her bag next to her. She extends an arm and Midori eagerly leans into the embrace.
If said embrace involves Midori clinging to Suiren, grip on her dress impossibly tight, then neither of them mentions it. Suiren tucks Midori's head under her chin and runs a hand through her hair. Midori feels Suiren's chest rise and fall in even intervals, though her exhales seem... heavier, as if some invisible weight was pressing down on her.
It didn't take a genius to figure out what the reason was.
Midori pushes that thought away and focuses on the fact all her recent worries were finally put to rest. Suiren had returned, safe and sound, and is right there in Midori's arms, warm and breathing and alive. What more could she possibly ask for?
She knows what. And given the wide, somewhat hazy and unfocused look in Suiren eyes which Midori sees when she pulls back from the hug... she's sure Suiren knows it too.
Before she can say anything, Lottie decides its her turn to demand Suiren's affection as she moves over and flops onto her back in front of her owner, practically begging for belly rubs. Suiren huffs out a laugh and obliges, taking a moment to ruffle the soft fur of Lottie's underside with both hands, dropping countless endearments in a baby-talk voice. In that moment, Midori could almost pretend she had gotten the happy and carefree big sister she sometimes caught glimpses of in her dreams back.
Almost, if it wasn't for the fresh bandages covering the entirety of Suiren's forearms, disappearing under her sleeves and going right up to her knuckles instead of ending at the wrist like usual. If she looks close enough, she can see the smallest smears of red seeping through the fabric.
Suiren leaning back and letting out the heaviest sigh Midori had ever heard from her, the smile immediately slipping off her face even as Lottie settles against her legs certainly doesn't help matters.
Midori can't take it anymore.
"So..."
Suddenly, she realises that for all her aching to talk to someone, now that she finally has the chance, she has no idea what to say.
"You're back early."
f*cking coward.
The corners of Renny's lips twitch upwards. "Of course. I finished up as fast as I could so I'd be home in time for today. How could I possibly miss my sister's special day? I was there for every single one, you know?"
Birthdays stopped being special long ago, her fourth and Suiren's seventh being the last ones that could truly count as celebrations. Haya never cared for their birthdays, never even asked when they were, and only snapped at them upon being told a few days prior. If they wanted something done for their birthdays, they had to take matters into their own hands.
And no matter what, not even if it resulted in a punishment or a beating or several days of starvation, Suiren had always managed to get her a gift.
The first few years, said gift was nothing but an extra portion of food. It took Midori some time to realise just where that extra portion had come from.
Sacrificing herself for her sister, something Renny had always done. Something she keeps on doing.
It takes all of Midori's effort for her not to think about just what "finishing up early" entailed in the context of Suiren's chosen occupation.
"I know you were," Midori answers, forcing a smile of her own. It doesn't last long.
Neither of them can stand to play their respective roles any longer. Not with the unspoken topic hanging between them that she's sure they're both aware of.
Enough beating around the bush.
"I... take it you've heard the news?"
Suiren's mask immediately drops as she looks away from her, trying to hide whatever expression crossed her face. She is silent and unmoving for far too long, but eventually nods, almost frantic.
"...Yeah. Yeah, I have."
"And are you holding up okay?" Midori dares ask.
What a stupid question. When has either of them ever been 'okay'?
Suiren pretends to be, she knows. She always tries to play the role of Renny, the cheerful, caring and confident older sister who isn't shaken or unnerved by anything. The one who always assured sweet, simple, stupid 'Dori that things were going to be okay, just you wait, we'll be far away from here soon enough, I promise.
Midori has her own part to play and she's played it just as well as Suiren did hers. She pretends to believe every lie that comes out of Suiren's mouth, if for no other reason than to lessen her burden as much as she's able to. She may not have been able to prevent or heal the bruises Renny spent their entire childhood covered in, but at least she could give her some peace of mind.
"...Can I be honest with you?"
Huh. That's not something she could remember Suiren ever saying. Her sister was always full of lies and half truths, anything to ensure Midori wouldn't worry about her. It never quite worked, but Midori wasn't too keen on letting her know that.
"Of course," she rushes to answer, not wanting to let the moment slip away.
Suiren exhales and turns to look at her with empty eyes, their golden shine almost completely gone.
"I've been a f*cking wreck," she confesses, voice suddenly taking on a hysterical tone. "I can't think of anything else but them, no matter how hard I try. I can barely sleep, and when I do they're always in my dreams. It's maddening."
The last word turns into a half scream as Suiren drops backwards, sprawling out on the deck. She covers her eyes with an arm and lets out a grown of frustration.
"I almost failed my assignment, you know? I was so distracted the water wouldn't listen to me. I can't remember the last time I felt so useless..." she mutters. Midori reaches over and puts a comforting hand on her knee.
"I haven't been able to think of anything else either," Midori says quietly, before pausing. Once again, she has no idea what to say, what she even could say to help her sister feel better. Suiren doesn't usually speak of her job, intending to keep the part of herself capable of killing as far away from Midori as possible. And she absolutely despised showing any kind of vulnerability, especially to Midori, for whom she was supposed to be the strong one.
Maybe... it would be better if she changed the subject entirely.
"Do you think they're thinking of us too?"
It seems to work, as Suiren visibly pulls herself back together, sits back up and looks at Midori with a bittersweet expression.
"I hope so, 'Dori, I really do, and I really wish I knew for sure," she extends her hand and buries her fingers in Lottie's fur, her shoulders sagging a little.
"And do you... think they'll come for us?" Her voice rises to an almost childish pitch, like she's once again a little girl asking when their parents will return from the Southern Water Tribe.
Suiren's face hardens. "They will. They have to. They promised they would, and they will. I'll find them myself if they won't."
She too sounds like her seven-year-old self, so stubborn and sure that their parents will come back for them, that she'll see them again one day, that they didn't abandon them forever like Haya claimed they did. That belief had long since faded in her, but now that their parents had broke out of wherever they were kept for thirteen long years, it had suddenly come back.
Midori wishes she could let herself be reassured so easily.
"But they'll go after the Avatar first, won't they? Do you think they have a chance against her?"
Renny looks at her incredulously. "They're some of the best benders in this Spirits-damned world, Midori, of course they do. I'd worry more about the Avatar if I was you."
The "how could you possibly doubt them, don't you remember how amazing they are?" goes unspoken, but Midori hears it anyway.
Burning shame rises to her cheeks.
"I know," she feels the need to state. "I'm just... thinking about everything that happened in Republic City this past year, with the Equalists and that... harmonic thing, when the sky turned purple? People say Avatar Korra is nothing like Aang, those she faced didn't live to tell the tale. I'm worried, that's all."
"Oh, 'Dori," Suiren whispers in sympathy, her gaze softening. Then, she lights up.
"You need to stop worrying so much, and I know exactly what will get your mind off it all."
Midori watches on as Suiren rummages through her bag and pulls out a black, polished stone with finely cut edges, about the size of Midori's fist. She raises an eyebrow in confusion.
"Your birthday present," Suiren clarifies, tossing the rock to her. Midori catches it and turns it over in her hands a few times.
"...Pretty rock?" she comments, a little afraid that Suiren would get upset over how ungrateful she's being.
Instead, Suiren laughs at her.
"It's not just a rock," she grins. "It's a meteorite."
Midori looks at her with wide eyes.
"You're kidding."
Suiren crosses her arms. "You don't believe me?"
"No, no, I do, but..." Midori turns to stare at the otherworldly chunk in her hands. "You're really not joking? It's an actual meteorite? As in, one that fell from the sky?"
Suiren nods, grinning wider. Midori finds herself laughing in disbelief.
"Where'd you even get it? It must have cost a fortune!"
Why would Suiren spend so much money on something so rare and precious but ultimately useless? Isn't she trying to save up enough for them to move out?
"Good think I didn't buy it, then."
Midori pauses, turning to Suiren with a deadly serious expression.
"You stole it?"
"No," Suiren puts up a finger. "It would be stealing if I took the whole thing, I simply cut off a part. See how that one side is so smooth?"
She runs her thumb along the aforementioned side, the cut clean and even, just like every cut Suiren makes, be it on rocks or people's necks.
She sighs.
"From whom?"
"Suyin Beifong."
Midori chokes on air.
"Renny, are you insane? What if she goes after you? Zaofu isn't too far from here, what if you were tracked?"
Suiren puts a hand on her shoulder. "Don't you worry, she's got a whole garden littered with meteorites, she won't even notice a piece went missing. Besides, I was careful and no one saw me. That place really isn't as well protected as it seems. And the Beifongs are like, second to the Earth Queen in wealth, which means stealing from them is always morally correct."
Then, Suiren pouts.
"Don't you like it?"
Midori hesitates, then shakes her head and smiles. "I love it, Renny, thank you. You really didn't have to go to all that trouble."
"Anything for you, Midori," Suiren smiles and it finally looks genuine.
Suddenly a thought crosses Midori's mind.
"Wait, you just said it was morally correct to steal from rich people, but I thought taking a small chunk didn't count as stealing?"
Suiren's eyes got wide as she realised she just contradicted herself.
"...Shut up," she says after a full minute of sputtering, and Midori can't help but burst into giggles.
"Alright, alright, you've had your fun, now are you gonna try bending it or what?"
"No," Midori immediately shakes her head. "I wouldn't want to ruin it. Let it stay how it is. A trophy of your first successful heist."
"Second," Suiren corrects. "The first was when I was dared to break into and steal something from Beifong Manor when I was sixteen..."
She trails off. Midori struggles to stifle her laughter.
"I've really gotta stop stealing from Beifongs, it's gonna come back to bite me in the ass one day, I just know it."
Then, she suddenly stands up.
"Come on now, this was only part one of your present, I stopped by the baker's on my way home and got us a little something."
Her smirk tells Midori everything she needs to know.
"Cinnamon buns?" she asks, just to be sure. Upon receiving an excited nod, she scrambles to her feet, almost dropping her meteorite.
"Careful now," Suiren chides. "They're not gonna go anywhere."
A spark lights up inside Midori.
"Good call on not trying to make them yourself, though."
Suiren's jaw drops. Midori starts laughing again.
"Oh piss off, be happy I love you so much, otherwise I'd eat your bun for you."
Midori playfully bumps against her shoulder. "I love you too, Renny."
Her sister pauses, then turns to her and takes her face in her hands, looking up at her with impossible tenderness Midori still isn't used to being taller than her.
"Don't worry about our parents, okay? We'll see them again. Give it a few weeks, a month at most, and we'll be a proper family again. I can feel it."
Midori finds herself blinking away tears as she nods.
Right before Suiren pulls away to go back inside where she must have left the sweet treats, she stands on her tiptoes and gently kisses Midori's forehead.
"Happy birthday, my little Seedling."
