*。☆。
★。＼｜／。★
˚ ₊ ♡ ❰  MIRACULUM ❱
*✧ ─── ❝ ❪ A FAMILIAR FACE ❫ ❞

⋆ 🌪. CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
˚ ₊ ♡ 112 a.a ─── book two: earth

UKI FOUND HERSELF AT THE WATER'S EDGE OF A SMALL, BUT DELICATELY CRAFTED FOUNTAIN in the centre of a market square. The fountain gurgled gently, sending tiny droplets sparkling into the sunlight. Vendors called out over one another, children ran laughing between woven basket stalls, and the scents of sizzling meat and fresh fruit drifted in the warm air.

Uki, found herself enjoying the heat for the first time—ever. She had always believed the chill of her homeland would never leave her blood, that the snow would cling to her bones no matter where she went. But here, in the golden light of Ba Sing Se, with the scent of spices and the ripple of sunlight dancing on stone tiles, something inside her began to thaw.

Even if the city was strange. Even if it was hiding something beneath its polished exterior.

It had started to feel like... not home, perhaps. But something close to it.

Uki leaned back on her hands, lifting her face to the bright sky, letting her eyes close against the light.

"Lian."

Her name—the name she wore here, at least—drifted toward her through the hum of the crowd. At first, she didn't react.

"Lian."

The second time it came, closer now, she sighed and let her eyes open slowly. The cold sharpness usually in her gaze had softened in the sun, but it returned in full as she looked up and saw a familiar pair of jade-green eyes.

Yuanyun stood over her, wearing his usual pristine university robes, looking far too tidy for the Lower Ring.

Uki sat up straighter, her arms folding instinctively across her chest. Her posture wasn't defensive exactly—but it certainly wasn't welcoming.

"Yuanyun." Her tone was neutral as he regarded her, "You're back again."

"I am," he said with a casual shrug and a lopsided grin, his eyes flickering to the short, uneven strands of her hair now framing her face. His gaze lingered for a breath too long before returning to hers.

Uki arched an eyebrow as she stood up. "What do you want?" she asked bluntly.

Instead of answering he slugged his arm around her shoulders in an overly-friendly gesture that made her tense for a moment. "I didn't know you were an actual waterbender." He said with a hint of excitement.

Pushing his arm off of her shoulder, Uki raised an inquiring eyebrow and the boy backs off with raised hands.

"Sorry." Yuanyun bowed his head.

She relaxed slightly, brushing imaginary dust off her sleeve. "It's fine," she muttered, then added, "And yes. I'm a waterbender."

Yuanyun's grin returned, boyish and unfiltered. "A pretty skilled one, from what I saw last night."

Her expression didn't change, but her posture shifted slightly—guarded, uncertain.

"I've never seen anything like that," he continued, clearly unaware—or ignoring—the weight of his words. "I can't bend at all. Earthbending's pretty much the only element anyone talks about in the city, but watching you... it was like dancing with the water."

Uki didn't smile, but her voice softened. "Thank you."

There was a pause before Yuanyun tilted his head. "Take a walk with me?"

Uki shifted on her feet. "Is that your favor?"

He blinked. "What?"

"The one I owe you."

Yuanyun laughed, a quick, almost embarrassed sound. "No, no. I just thought you might want to talk. Or... maybe you'd like the company."

She eyed him for a long moment before sighing and beginning to walk. "Fine. But if you touch my shoulder again, I'll freeze your boots to the pavement."

He grinned and fell into step beside her.

They strolled through the market district for a time, weaving past crowded stalls and balancing between muddy stone walkways where vegetable carts had left wet grooves. Uki kept her arms tucked close to her body, speaking little while Yuanyun filled the silence with idle observations, facts about the city, and snippets from his university lectures.

He didn't ask her more about her bending or about the letters she had stolen from the university. And she appreciated that.

Eventually, they reached the Middle Ring and while Uki hesitated at the edge, Yuanyun walked in without a second thought. The sun had risen to it's highest point in the sky and began to feel sweltering on her skin.

Uki quickly shook off the hesitation and followed Yuanyun, still unsure and curious about where he was bringing her.

The noise of the Lower Ring faded behind them, and the streets grew quieter, more orderly.

The house Yuanyun led her to was modest, but clean. It nestled between a shuttered herbalist's shop and a tailor's storefront with a faded awning, its walls a pale yellow with ivy crawling lazily up the side. Warm light bled through a paper-covered window.

Yuanyun stopped at the threshold and turned to face her, rubbing the back of his neck. "This is me."

Uki raised an eyebrow. "And why am I at your house?"

He gave a sheepish half-smile. "Well... I was hoping this is where that favor comes in."

She narrowed her eyes slightly, but didn't speak.

"I heard," he said quickly, before she could cut him off, "that some waterbenders can heal. And after what I saw yesterday... I thought maybe..." His voice trailed off, uncertain for the first time.

She studied him, the way his hopeful expression faltered under her gaze. The way he twisted his fingers together.

"...I can," she said finally.

His face lit up—too bright, too warm—and he turned so quickly he nearly tripped on the threshold. "Come in, please!"

She followed him inside, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the dim, cool interior. The air smelled faintly of old tea leaves and medicinal herbs.

"Mother!" Yuanyun called, rushing ahead. "I'm home!"

From the far room, there was a soft clatter, then a voice—hoarse, but unmistakably amused. "You shout like a parade drum, child. What now?"

Uki held back a chuckle at the accurate description.

Uki stepped hesitantly into the room as Yuanyun appeared at the side of a low divan, where a woman was slowly sitting up. She was older than Uki had expected—perhaps in her early fifties—but her features were delicate, her hair pinned up neatly though streaked with silver. Her skin was pale with a paper-thin fragility, and her hands trembled slightly as she shifted her weight to greet them.

Still, there was a sharpness in her eyes—green like Yuanyun's—and a knowing smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

"And who is this?" she asked, voice rasping but amused. "My son finally brings a girl home and doesn't even offer her tea?"

Uki blinked, caught off guard, while Yuanyun flushed a deep crimson.

"She's not—! I didn't—! It's not like that!" he stammered.

"Mm-hmm," his mother said, waving a frail hand. "Then why are you blushing like a steamer duck?"

Uki pressed her lips together, torn between amusement and discomfort.

Yuanyun cleared his throat. "Mother, this is Lian. She's a waterbender."

The woman's teasing faded into something softer, more curious. "A waterbender? In Ba Sing Se?"

Uki gave her a faint grin, "the war has not been kind to me." Was all she said and Yuanyun mother's face fell.

Yuanyun moved closer to his mother and spoke kindly: "I have asked Lian to heal you, mother."

The softness of his voice was surprising—Uki and only ever heard him be boisterous and theatrical, very unlike what she had expected of a scholar in the first place.

The woman fondly smiled at her son before beckoning Uki closer.

The waterbender nodded, and took a seat across from her slipping the waterskin from her belt. With a practiced flick of her fingers, a stream of cool water spiraled upward, hovering in the air like glass.

Yuanyun watched in quiet awe. His mother simply closed her eyes.

Uki's hands moved gently, guiding the water across the woman's chest and arms, drawing the warmth from beneath her skin, easing the tension from her muscles. It was subtle—water healing often was—but when she finally let the water fall away into her palm again, Yuanyun's mother's shoulders had loosened, her breathing steadier.

The older woman opened her eyes slowly. "You have a kind touch," she whispered. "Thank you."

Yuanyun touched his mother's hand, then looked up at Uki. His smile had softened—no longer radiant and boyish, but quieter. More real.

"Come," he said under his breath, "I'll help you to bed."

Uki watched, folding her hands in front of her as they disappeared down the narrow hallway, the hushed murmur of Yuanyun's voice barely reaching her ears.

Healing.

It used to make her feel caged.

She remember her first day of bending, the swell of pride she felt—the excitement to finally start learning. By evening, the elders had pulled her aside. They praised her talent, smiled kindly, and then pointed her toward the healers' hut.

"Your gift is meant to soothe, not strike," they'd said.

The men of her home had been led to Master Pakku to train. She'd been given a basin and told to practice "patience."

But in moments like this, she felt happy.

Yuanyun returned after a time, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand and carrying two mismatched cups in the other.

"I made tea," he said sheepishly. "It's not great, but it's hot."

Uki took the cup with a small nod of thanks and cradled it between her hands.

"She sleeps better already," he added, sinking into a stool across from her. "I haven't seen her this relaxed in weeks."

"What is it she suffers from?" Uki asked softly, her fingers tracing the rim of the cup.

Yuanyun's gaze dropped. "We're not exactly sure. The doctors say her immune system's weak—whatever that means. She catches colds easily, can't seem to shake them. She tires fast."

"I'm sorry, Yuanyun."

He shrugged with a forced grin. "Not your fault. Besides, you've helped more in ten minutes than any of them did in weeks."

A quiet pause settled between them, not heavy—but tentative. As if neither knew quite what came next.

Uki broke the silence. "She's kind."

Yuanyun smiled. "She likes you. And trust me—she doesn't like anyone I bring home."

Uki blinked. "You bring home a lot of girls?"

"No! I mean—well—not that often." He flushed. "She just assumes any girl I talk to is secretly in love with me."

Uki could only chuckle quietly.

After tea and another round of teasing from Yuanyun's mother (who had woken briefly just to give her son a knowing smirk), Uki finally stood.

"I should go. Mushi will worry."

Yuanyun walked her to the door, a content silence stretching between them.

The sun was beginning to lower now, casting long shadows across the clean stone of the Middle Ring. As they stepped out, the breeze met them gently—warm still, but cooling fast with evening.

"Hey," he said, scratching behind his ear. "Thanks... for helping her. Guess your debt has been paid."

Uki smiled faintly. "No, that was kindness. You can collect your favor later."

Yuanyun nodded with a soft smile.

"If your mother's feels ill again, you can always come get me Yuanyun."

And with that, she slipped away.

The warmth of the sun had slipped away, a mellow breeze whistled through the streets. Uki felt a steadiness inside her, one she hadn't truly felt after Yue had died. Her footfalls were quiet and sure as she wound her way through the emptying stalls of the Lower Ring, the city finally exhaling after another long day.

Uki was sure Iroh would still be mingling in the teashop, brewing to his heart's content. She made another turn, dim lantern light barely lighting the way, only to hear the sound of paper crunching beneath her shoe.

Uki paused, gaze lowering. Curious she picked up the flyer after noticing more are spread around the cobblestone path. She brought it closer to one of the lanterns—her heart stuttered.

Uki is shocked to see Appa staring back at her.

If Appa was here...

Uki's throat tightened. That meant the Aang was close—closer than she had dared hope.

Her fingers curled around the poster. She looked up, down the street, half-expecting to see him walking toward her, staff in hand, beaming like he always did.

No one was there. Only silence.

They are here, in Ba Sing Se.

Excitement unfurled inside her, like a flower blossoming in spring. The idea of reuniting almost unbelievable. Uki had honestly not thought she would find them again. She could only hope, but this—this felt like dreaming.

Uki pressed the flyer to her chest, her heart thudding like war drums.

But just as quickly, the feeling turned.

A chill threaded through the back of her neck.

If she had found this... Zuko could have, too.

She remembered his words on the bridge just a day ago—the desperate grief in them.

"I think if I can just bring him back, everything will be the way it was."

Her hands clenched around the parchment.

Uki stared into the dark beyond the alley, every nerve taut.

This changed everything.

UKI IS TORN.

She had returned to the apartment over an hour ago, her body moving on instinct more than intention. Iroh had offered her a warm cup of ginseng with a gentle smile, but she'd declined with a mumbled, barely coherent excuse. She hadn't looked at Zuko—couldn't. Not with the poster folded tightly in her sleeve, its weight heavier than it should have been.

Her room was dark when she entered. She didn't bother to light the lantern. The door fell shut behind her with a soft thud that echoed far louder in her chest than in the room.

And now, she lay sprawled across her bed, eyes wide open and unseeing, her limbs twisted in the thin sheets. Tossing. Turning.

Appa was missing? Actually missing. How could such a large creature, one she is sure loved Aang more than anything else in the world. Her heart clenched at the idea of Aang—how he must feel to lose something so close to his heart. Uki imagined the look in his eyes now, the devastation he must feel. Appa wasn't just a flying bison; he was home, all he had left from his life before the iceberg.

Uki wondered how they are—if Katara is still teaching Aang waterbending, if Toph is managing to get the little bugger to stand his ground. She even missed Sokka's juvenile quips and whining.

Her chest clenched. She missed them. More than she had let herself admit.

But what haunted her most wasn't the ache of absence. It was the guilt.

She had stayed behind to help Iroh—in some guise of righteousness. She felt she had owed the firebender some sort of favor after he had saved her in the North.

But did the gang feel betrayed? The commotion, the emotions were too high to truly think about what she was doing, or to even notice what the others were actually thinking.

Did they hate her for not finding them again? For staying.

Would they hate her if they knew how much closer she had gotten to Iroh and Zuko?

But now... now they were here. In the same city. Closer than she had dreamed—and she hadn't known. Hadn't even tried to find them.

And worse still: she was with someone that could put them in danger.

Her gaze drifted toward the thin crack beneath the door. Where the shadows of Iroh and Zuko still moved.

He hadn't noticed anything off when she walked in. Or maybe he had—Zuko saw more than he let on. And if he had seen one of those posters...

Her stomach twisted.

She couldn't let him see the poster. Couldn't let him realize the Avatar was close.

Uki rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling, her mind a storm.

Uki closed her eyes.

Zuko was too sharp, too restless. And if he saw one of those posters, it would only take him moments to piece it together. He didn't know what Appa meant to Aang—not fully—but he knew what the Avatar meant to his father. And for Zuko, that meant one thing: a way home.

Her fingers curled into fists at the thought.

Zuko had changed since Ba Sing Se. Slowly. Quietly. But he hadn't let go of his obsession—not completely. And if he realized that Aang was in the city... if he thought that finding Appa might lead him to the Avatar—

She had to find the skybison first.

⋆⋅ ━━━━ ‧ ༻✩༺ ‧ ━━━━ ⋅⋆
wordcount: 2805

things are heating up, and I am so excited for what is to come! Plus I have so many nice things planned for season 3 — which also includes a lil pov from zuko heheh