Sometimes Aang struggles. He looks at his tattoos and wonders if he will be the last person to ever bear them. He closes his eyes and tries to recall his friends faces, but more and more often, they just fade away. He flies to the destroyed air temples just to feel close to his people again. He meditates for hours in front of Monk Gyatso‘s statue, desperately hoping for a sign from that he knows he won’t receive. „Why?“ he screams into the wind. „Why them? And why me?“ But the wind does not answer nor care.
Sometimes Katar struggles. People tell her that she looks like her mother. They say that Kya would be proud. She wants to believe them. But she also wonders if that is the reason for the deep sadness she sometimes sees in her fathers eyes when he is looking at her but thinks she wouldn’t notice. And what it would been like to learn how to bend in the safety of their own tribe, instead of as a refugee in foreign lands, from some stolen scrolls and a bitter old man. How it would have been to come home after a day of training to tell her mother everything, and hear the words „I am proud“ from her mouth. And the cries, not knowing if over the things that were, or the things that could have been.
Sometimes Sokka struggles. When people call him smart or a genius and the men in his tribe announce what great warrior he makes, he only shrugs. He can’t ask them them why if that was true, he had been unable to protect Yue from Zhao. Or free Suki from prison earlier. Or shield his little sister from all the evil she had to witness so soon. He can’t tell them that sometimes, he feels like he is just a small boy with a boomerang in a hostile world, who wants nothing more than to be told that everyone is safe and everything will be alright, and that he does not have to worry anymore.
Sometimes Toph struggles. When she hears the screams of joy from kids playing in the park with their parents and can’t help but wonder how her mother is doing. And if the people who tell reconcile with her dad are right. But mostly, she wonders if her parents will ever even try to understand and accept who she really is. And suddenly, all the voices get too loud and too many. And then she just wants to run.
Sometimes Suki struggles. When a room has no windows, or when a door falls shut to sudden. When the familiar feeling of being trapped creeps in like an unwanted guest, and she can’t help but wonder if she will ever be able to sleep with a closed to door again. And how her life would have went if she had never left Kyoshi island. How all her friends from there are doing. And if they still remember her face, or already only her make up. When, for a moment, she wishes to be only a girl, and not a warrior.
Sometimes Zuko struggles. When he meets his eyes in the mirror and can’t help but to be reminded of his father. When he travels and sees all the destruction his nation‘s war did cause. When he hears all the stories of fear, pain and suffering. When he understands that some things just can’t be fixed, no matter how hard he tries. And when he can’t help but wonder who he would have become if he hadn’t been banished. And how far he would have gone to make his nation and father proud.
Sometimes, they all struggle. But at least they can catch other before the fall.
