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Chapter 7 - Arrivals (5)

Katara rolled her eyes, figuring that was probably the best she could get out of him.

***

"Haaa... finally done," Katara sighed, exhausted, as she wrung out the last pair of pants in the basin of hot water. She squeezed it until most of the excess water was gone and placed it in a basket full of other clean clothes.

As soon as she and Sokka returned to the fire, Gran-Gran had pulled her aside to wash the dirty laundry. As much as Katara wanted to run to Ikari and bombard him with questions—about bending, about the Air Nomads, about everything—she couldn't say no to her grandmother. But now, finally free, her mind buzzed with all the different ways she could start a conversation with him and, hopefully, convince him to teach her how to waterbend!

Katara stood up, stretching her sore legs after kneeling for so long, and picked up the basket of clean clothes. She left the igloo, walking briskly until she found Hina, the woman in charge of drying the clothes. "Here, Hina. All nice and clean," Katara said, handing over the basket with a smile.

"Thank you, Katara," Hina replied, returning the smile. "You're a blessing to the village."

Katara nodded, already turning her head from side to side, looking for Ikari, but she couldn't find him anywhere. The excitement she had felt was quickly replaced by a twinge of worry. 'Where is he? He didn't leave, did he?' The thought made her frown. He was the first outsider she had seen in years, and the idea of him simply vanishing unsettled her.

Katara ran to Gran-Gran's tent, where the elder was mending a tunic with fingers far too nimble for her age. "Gran-Gran!" Katara called out, her voice a bit louder than she intended. "Have you seen Ikari? I wanted to talk to him about a few things."

Gran-Gran looked up, the wrinkles on her face softening into a gentle smile. "He left with Sokka a few minutes ago."

Katara's eyes widened, her concern multiplying at once, already picturing her brother doing something impulsive—like trying to interrogate Ikari with his spear. "Why did you let Sokka go off with Ikari? He's obviously going to mess everything up!"

Gran-Gran chuckled softly. "Your brother is stubborn, but he's not foolish, Katara. And Ikari's a good boy. Let them sort things out."

But Katara wasn't convinced. The image of Sokka pointing his spear at Ikari—or worse, trying to prove he was more of a warrior than him—was already burned into her mind. "No, Gran-Gran, you don't understand! Sokka is... Sokka!" Without waiting for a response, she spun on her heels and ran out of the village, the icy wind biting at her face as she passed through the frozen walls.

Outside, Katara shielded her eyes with her hand, searching for any sign of them. Her heart was racing, a storm of fear and frustration inside her. 'If Sokka ruins everything...'

Then, she saw them, and her chest sank instantly. Not too far away, near a snow-covered hill, Sokka was charging forward with his spear toward Ikari, who, with a relaxed stance, dodged the attack with an almost supernatural agility, twisting his body to the side.

Before Katara could even think about screaming, Ikari somehow took the spear from Sokka's hand, and with a swift motion, swept Sokka's legs with the shaft, knocking him face-first into the snow.

Katara blinked twice before snapping out of it and starting to run. "Sokka!" But as she got closer, she froze when she heard them.

"And with that, it's 20 to 0," Ikari said excitedly.

"It's 25 to 0! 25! You know that perfectly well!" Sokka shouted with his mouth full of snow.

"Ooh right, hehehe."

"Argh! Next time I'm wiping that smile off your face!"

"Heheheh."

Katara watched the two in silence for a few seconds before asking what had been echoing in her head, "What... are you two doing?"

***

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, images or songs featured in this fic. Additionally, I do not claim ownership of any products or properties mentioned in this novel. This work is entirely fanfic.

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