#but it would be more then fair for all of Touya's siblings to wash their hands of him after all the shit he put them through

[problemswithbooks]

So, I think I just saw one of the worst takes for ch. 390--that being that Enji is being his asshole self because he's talking over Touya in his last moments.

I understand hating a character but I really don't know why people have the need to read everything they do from the most malicious angle possible. I get that Enji was a bad father, and even now makes mistakes, but it's really unfair to see him apologizing to Touya who has already been aloud to use what little breath he has left to speak, as him talking over him.

And the thing is people were shitting on Enji for not apologizing earlier, but now that he is, they have to find some other reason he's being terrible. I'm 100% positive that if Enji had just listened to Touya rant about hating everyone and wanted them all to die, these same people would say he was bad for not saying anything/apologizing.

Touya was barely coherent before Shoto froze him and now he's freezing from the inside out. He's charred to the bone and it's clear he's having trouble speaking the few times he did. For all the family knows, including Enji, Touya is dying. Does Enji really have the time to wait to apologize? And it's not like we see Touya trying to speak but getting cut off.

Saying Enji is making everything all about himself and speaking over Touya is overly harsh and clearly not the point the story is trying to make. It's just Enji finally apologizing to everyone, including Touya. The apology may not be enough, but even if it's not, it won't be because Enji talked over him and more that it came to late, or that words don't speak as loud as actions.

[saccharii]

Todofam Month, Day 19: Power

Those With Power, Those Without

AO3 Link

Todofam Month master post

@todofammonth

Notes: This fic is based off of the bnha/atla fusion fic: i will read ashes for you, if you ask me by @wellthengetouttathesoupaisle It won’t make much sense if you haven’t read it.

The very air of the training yard wavers in the heat.

“You will be the Avatar—the most powerful bender in the world,” Father says.

The heat he radiates bears down on Fuyumi, and she struggles not to squirm away. Father hates it when she squirms.

“You will be the Avatar,” he continues, “and you will win this war and bring me glory.”

His eyes are bright, filled with an emotion Fuyumi doesn’t understand. She stares down at her hands to avoid meeting his gaze. Her palms still sting from when the flame flowed out of her.

She wishes Touya was here. Everything is easier when he is with her. But Father sent him away and told her that he wouldn’t be training with them anymore. Fuyumi wants him to come back, but she doesn’t protest. Father never listens.

“He’s so little!” Fuyumi exclaims as she stares into her baby brother’s unfocused grey eyes.

Natsuo wiggles and fusses in Mother’s arms. She hushes him, murmuring soothing sounds, and gently bounces him. 

“Not so loud, Fuyumi,” she says mildly. “You were this little when you were born, too.”

Fuyumi shrinks back a little. “Sorry,” she mumbles.

Touya nods seriously. “You were tiny when you were born, I remember.”

Mother lets out a small huff of laughter and smiles at her oldest. “Yes, Touya was just a bit younger than you are now when you were born. You are going to be Natsuo’s big sister, just like Touya is your big brother.”

“I’m still the biggest,” Touya says.

Fuyumi straightens. She’s going to be a good big sister and take care of Natsuo, just like Touya takes care of her. She remembers the time they went frog catching. Fuyumi couldn’t catch any, but Touya gave her the biggest frog he caught. She carried it proudly around with her in her bucket until they released their catch back into the wetlands at the end of the day.

“I will give you the biggest frog,” she tells Natsuo solemnly.

Mother bursts into laughter, jostling the baby in her arms. Natsuo cries, and she attempts to soothe him through her peals of laughter. 

Touya scrunches up his face and stares at her. “Why would you give a baby a frog?”

“Not any frog! The biggest frog!”

“It’s a frog! It’d pee on him!”

Mother laughs even harder, gasping for breath, and covers her mouth with her hand. Natsuo wails, his face red, and kicks with his weak little baby legs.

Fuyumi gently strokes the top of her little brother’s head. “It’s okay Nacchan, Mommy is just happy.”

Mother takes a couple of deep breaths in an effort to control herself, then smiles at Fuyumi. “You’re already a good big sister.”

Fuyumi ducks her head to hide her smile.

Fuyumi bolts down the hall as soon as her father excuses her from training. The tears build, and when she collapses against a pillar they spill out. She opens her hands and winces at the sight of her palms. The skin is bubbling and red, and the slightest movement sends daggers of pain through her hands. They throbs.

“Fuyumi... what’s wrong?”

Her breath catches and her head snaps up, but it’s only Touya. He slowly kneels down beside her and gently takes her hands in his.

“Hurts,” is all Fuyumi can say between sobs.

Touya lets go of her hands and clenches his own into fists, pressing his lips together in a thin line.

“Your brother is weak,” Father says later, after he is done with Touya. “He will only drag you down. Those without power should never meddle in the affairs of those with it.”

Fuyumi keeps her head bowed, her eyes locked on the spot of drying blood on the ground.

Touya’s not weak, she doesn’t say. Touya is brave and kind and gives good hugs. He always catches the most frogs, and when Lady Mitsuki’s puppy fell into the river he jumped in after it and saved it.

Touya’s the only one who’s ever stood between her and Father, even though he gets hurt every time. He’s the bravest person she knows, and she wants to be just like him when she’s older.

Laughter bubbles up in Fuyumi’s throat as she runs down the halls of their vacation house, her bare feet slapping against the wood. Instinct screams at her to be quiet, to slow down to a dignified walk, but she overrides it. Father���s not here. 

He left to oversee the colonies, and within the day Mother whisked the children away to the family vacation house on Ember Island.

She throws open the sliding door leading to her mother’s room and takes a deep breath of the salty air that permeates the entirety of the island.

“Mother!” she calls. “Wake up! It’s time for breakfast!”

“I’m awake. Just a moment.”

Mother walks out from behind a screen, pinning her hair back, dressed in a casual but elegant robe. She looks relaxed and happy, more so than Fuyumi has ever seen her.

The day passes in stretches of tranquility punctuated by bouts of frantic activity between the siblings. Fuyumi dumps a bucket of water on an unsuspecting Touya’s head, and he jumps to his feet with a shout and chases her around the beach. They take turns burying each other in the sand. They dig straight down and bury Shouto up to his waist.

“Look, Mother! Shouto’s a carrot!” Natsuo calls.

“I’m carrot,” Shouto says solemnly, and pats the mound of sand in front of him.

Mother smiles and laughs.

They splash in the water and play volleyball, (recruiting Mother to Natsuo’s team after he whines about Fuyumi and Touya ganging up on him) and catch frogs in the nearby pond.

Touya’s still as good as Fuyumi remembers. He crouches in the muddy water and the frogs practically crawl into his hands. Even Natsuo is better at catching frogs than Fuyumi is, and that’s just not fair.

Shouto toddles into the water, scaring away all the frogs. He pouts, but manages to find a snail and promptly tries to eat it. Fuyumi has to pry it out of his hand.

Even the two hours set aside for firebending training in the afternoon (a pre-emptive compromise, Mother knows what would happen if Father found out she let Fuyumi’s training slip) can’t bring Fuyumi’s good mood down. With Touya by her side it feels more like play. She knows that she used to train alongside Touya when she was little, but those memories have been overwritten by years of harsh one-on-one training with Father.

Natsuo and Shouto demand to join, despite the fact that Natsuo is a non bender and Shouto is too young, and soon it’s a game between the four. The royal firebending tutor is strict but kind, much to Fuyumi’s surprise. He patiently humors her younger brothers and lets her instruct them, saying that teaching others is a good way to learn yourself.

She corrects Natsuo’s technique on one of the starting katas. He may not be a bender, but what harm could running through a few forms do? (Father would call it a waste of time, but Father is not here.)

The day bleeds into night. Shouto and Natsuo chase fireflies without much success while Fuyumi stays curled up next to the fire. Several fireflies land in Touya’s hair and show no signs of moving, much to his younger brothers’ jealousy. 

They light sparklers, watch fireworks, and eat cinnamon candy until they all collapse in an exhausted heap on Mother.

“Mother?”

“Hmm?”

“Can we come back again next year?” The sand clings to Fuyumi’s candy-sticky fingers, but she’s too tired to get up and wash them off. Instead she stays slumped against her mother in a manner not befitting a princess of the Fire Nation. 

Mother is silent for a long moment. “Yes. I think I can manage that.”

Fuyumi smiles and nestles closer.

Six months later everything falls apart and their family is never the same again.

Fuyumi’s with the royal firebending tutor when the screaming starts. 

The sound cuts through the winter air, inhuman and bone-chilling. Fuyumi doesn’t recognize it at first. She’s heard screams and wails and other sounds of misery, but nothing like this.

The royal tutor goes ghost white. He tells her to stay behind and runs off. She remains in the courtyard for an hour before someone comes to get her.

“What happened?” she asks, but no one gives her a straight answer. 

The servants rush around, faces pale with shock and fear. She can only catch snatches of furtive whispers, enough to learn that something happened to Touya.

They take her to Mother, who sweeps her up into her arms and cries into her hair. 

She tells Fuyumi what happened. She tells her that Touya tried to get between Father and Shouto, that Father ‘taught him a lesson,’ that he was burned, that Shouto saw the whole thing.

Fuyumi stands there, face slack, body numb. To hear that Touya stood between Father and Shouto is no surprise, but this... but this...

No one will let her see Touya. Days pass, and she learns nothing new. Then the whispers start. Infection has set in and no one knows if he will survive. The servants gather in hushed circles, fretfully speculating what would happen if the crown prince died. What would be the fallout for the heir to be killed by his own father’s hand? The Firelord’s hand? Would the Firelord face any consequences at all?

Fuyumi’s mind is a vortex—thoughts swirl and crash into each other in an incomprehensible cacophony. She absently picks at her sleeves until the fabric comes undone, she barely eats, during training she stops without warning. If Father saw her he would be furious, but all of his attention is on Shouto now. Shouto, who saw the entire thing.

When she asks Mother what is going to happen, Mother just shakes her head and says nothing.

Eventually, one day, when no one is watching, she sneaks into Touya’s room.

The harsh and pungent smell of herbs and burn salve stings her nose. Touya sits in his bed, propped up by an array of pillows. He faces away from her, staring out the window. White bandages wrap around his arms and neck and face, leaving little skin exposed.

When she enters the room, he turns toward her and regards her with dead eyes. He says nothing. Emotion swells in her chest and throat, threatening to choke her, and she flees.

(She doesn’t see him again—not for a long time.)

“He’s gone. Concern yourself with him no longer.”

The room swims before Fuyumi and she sways on her feet. She tries to speak, to ask ‘when?’ and ‘why?’ but nothing comes out. Perhaps it is for the better.

Father glances at her with a critical look in his eye, then dismisses her with a flick of his fingers.

Fuyumi runs. She stumbles down the halls, barely avoiding servants and courtiers. She doesn’t know where she’s going and she doesn’t care.

Without her realizing it, her feet lead her to her bedroom. She throws herself on her lavish bed. She doesn’t know how long she lies there, sobbing in the silent room; no one comes for her. Eventually, a servant slips in and quietly leaves a tray of food on the table, then slips back out without a word. Fuyumi doesn’t care. Her stomach is too twisted to eat. 

He can’t be gone. It’s impossible. Touya has been a part of her life since she was born. How can she face the world without him here? How can she face Father?

Fuyumi screams into her pillow and beats her fists against the mattress. How could Touya do this to her? She needs him—they all need him! She hates him. Hates, hates, hates, hates him.

An overwhelming desire to destroy something comes over her. She jerks up and hurls her pillow across the room. It’s not enough. She throws herself to her feet and claws at her hair. She sweeps her arms across the nightstand next to her bed, sending the pitcher crashing to the ground and shattering it. It’s still not enough.

She paces the room like a wild animal, throwing whatever she comes across haphazardly across the room. Chairs clatter to the ground. Her jewelry box breaks open against the wall, sending necklaces and bejeweled hair combs scattering; she shoves an intricate vase over, cracking it down the middle, and kicks her dresser, hurting her foot in the process.

She limps back to her bed and falls backwards, drained and numb. She stares blankly at the ceiling, void of emotion. After a long while, she falls asleep.

The next few days are brutal. Rage rises up out of nowhere to choke her and make her head reel. The littlest things set her off. When her writing tutor comes she upends her inkpot onto the paper. She throws her brush at the governess. She knocks her tray of food to the ground and snottily demands something else. The servants take it with grace, and that only makes her angrier.

She hates and she hates and she hates. She hates Touya for leaving, she hates Father for hurting him and driving him away, she hates herself for being unable to stop it. She’s supposed to be the one with power, isn’t she? If she’s so powerful, why can’t she protect anybody?

On the third day Mother visits her in her room. She doesn’t even get to open her mouth before Fuyumi starts screaming at her. She screams about how it’s her fault, how she never really loved Touya anyway, how she never loved any of them. She screams at her to get out, and Mother leaves without a word, her head bowed.

Nobody bothers her after that. Trays of food appear in her room, and the devastation she leaves in her wake is cleaned up by people unseen.

After a few more restless days in her room, she can no longer stand being inside. Her feet lead her to the nearly empty private courtyard. The only other person there is Natsuo, who kicks a ball around in the corner, eyeing her warily. (How? How can he act like everything is normal? Like everything is okay?)

She scowls at the turtle ducks playing in the pond. A perfect little family with no concerns and no troubles. Petulantly, she kicks a rock, and it strikes one of the ducklings. Guilt and vicious satisfaction rush through her in equal measure.

“Hey!” Natsuo clenches his fists by his side and glares at her, his posture rigid, and, oh, he looks like Touya. “What’s wrong with you? Just because you’re upset doesn’t mean you can do stuff like that. We all miss Touya, too. It’s not just you!”

A scorching, blinding wave washes over Fuyumi. She knows she doesn’t mean it before she opens her mouth, she knows she’ll regret it, but she says it anyway.

“Shut up,” she hisses. “I wish Father burned you instead.”

Natsuo physically recoils. Tears fill his eyes, and his whole body shakes. 

The anger immediately drains out of Fuyumi. She reaches out her hand, but Natsuo turns and flees. 

She slinks back to her room, her stomach twisting with guilt. Not even ten minutes later, Mother storms into the room, her eyes flashing with fury.

“This ends now,” she says coldly. “Your behavior will no longer be tolerated. What you said to your brother was unacceptable, and once he calms down you will apologize and you will make it up to him. Do you understand me?”

Fuyumi nods, tears collecting in her eyes.

“Good. From now on you will be accompanied at all times. There will not be a repeat of this behavior. If you step out of line, even a little, there will be consequences.”

Mother sweeps out of the room, and Fuyumi covers her face in shame.

A blue light pierces the sky. Father’s fury is so great it shakes the very walls of the palace. Shouto runs and hides, but Father does not notice. Shouto is not the Avatar.

Father paces the throne room, his fire lashing out of control. Fuyumi bows before him, trembling.

“How dare he!” he roars. “All this time he was pretending to be weak. He knew he was the Avatar and he hid it from me.”

His eyes land on Fuyumi. “Bring him back to me. I am the Fire Lord and he is my subject. He owes me his obedience.”

Fuyumi bows lower, her hair hiding her face. Touya was not pretending, she knows that. He’d never hold back if it meant protecting his siblings. He’s always been the strongest in that way. But Fuyumi has grown strong, too. Strong enough to defy Father. 

She’ll bring her brother back, but not to their father. She’ll bring him back to the rest of their family, and together they will tear the Fire Lord down.