Chapter Text
Bumi wakes up at a very respectable five am, his neck and back stiff from sleeping on all the pillows one of the Air Acolytes had so thoughtfully stuffed between the headboard and his back to make sure he didn't roll over in his sleep.
One of the more frequent complaints of his former bedmates was of how much he rolled around while sleeping, a habit that proves utterly detrimental to his recovery. At least Healer Amuq had assured him that he'd be fine pretty soon, probably a few weeks. He almost regrets denying getting looked over by his sister on the week long airship journey back home, and then during the quick layover in the Southern Water Tribe. Kya and Mom had argued with him for a while, but ultimately taking care of his younger brother and Korra was the bigger priority, and the energy spent on yelling at him was better diverted towards taking care of those two. He had spent the entire time lazing around in his bed, only really getting up to distract the children and maybe help around a little.
And now, apparently no waterbending healing in the first few days means that he has to let his body take its natural course, heal him over a month or so, with only the slighest aid from healers. Pema had glared at him the entire time she had been with him in the clinic's waiting room when they’d finally had the time and energy to take him to an actual healer, and despite the fact that she's nearly half his age, Bumi had never felt quite so scared in his life.
"You should be glad I didn't tell him that you refused to let Kya heal you." She had said as the two of them had gotten on her bison, with her taking the lead and him sitting somewhere in the back with a steamed bun in his hand. "You injured your left arm Bumi, and the last I remembered, you're not ambidextrous."
" But it’s not too late to learn how to use my right hand ." He pointed out and took a large bite of the bun, savoring the spicy meat inside. " But thanks for not telling him about it, I’m pretty sure Amuq would have killed me otherwise. " And then he flexed his decent arm before realising he couldn't pat his bicep in a self satisfactory way, and neither could Pema see him . "Besides, I've been stuck on field too many times without a waterbender in sight. You can't always rely on benders, y'know."
Pema hadn’t turned back even once. "Yes, I know."
Her voice had sounded a little distant. A woman who had given her own Earth Kingdom heritage to be included in his father's legacy, and still hadn't been blessed with airbending. Koh's Lair, she probably knew more about all those Gurus than he did, and could probably recite it in her slee p too. His smirk slid off his face, and the next bite of his bun felt oddly hollow.
She was worth more than whatever he had contributed to his father's memory.
As of right now, he gets up from his bed, feet landing on the scratchy carpet he will finally replace within this month, and then shuffles towards the bathroom attached to his bedroom.
Privileges of being the son of the Avatar, he guesses. Not having to use the communal bath like he had to use in the Northern Air Temple. It was a very odd return to his early times as a naval buck, when he had essentially no privacy, and schedules worse and stricter than whatever Tenzin could dream of.
After a routine freshing up and shaving any stray upper lip hair, he quickly changes into his regular pants and a top that he buttons clumsily.
His eye falls on the clock right above his desk, and it's 05:30am right now. He doesn't really think anyone would be awake at this hour, but he slips out of his room anyway, his bare feet making no noise against the wooden flooring.
When he passes by Ikki's room, he hesitates for a second before opening the door a little, wincing at the creak it lets out. Sure enough, his niece is still asleep, curled up with Bum-Ju, who is completely snuggled into her chest. Good for them, he thinks. Bum-Ju can take care of any bad dreams, with his spirity mumbo-jumbo. He hasn't failed to notice that his own share of nightmares have lessened ever since he has met Bum-Ju, and he hopes that his friend can have the same effect on his niece.
Life in Air Temple Island starts at seven in the morning, which usually leaves him with around two hours of privacy and peace every day. He takes this time to amble down to the kitchen and pour himself a glass of water before poking around a little for anything edible.
"Great." He mutters under his breath when he finds a bunch of bananas in the cooler. He breaks off around two of them and then shoves the rest back where they were.
Taking a bite out of one of the bananas as he places the rest on the counter, sitting right next to it.
It's been an interesting fortnight. He chews his bite, swallows, and then takes another mouthful.
He fought a lava-bender and lived, Jinora got her airbending tattoos, Korra and his sister went back to his mother's house, he almost-successfully hid a couple of injuries, and he hasn't slept with Bum-Ju in his arms for a while. He's an airbender now. So much has happened, and all he can do right is take a shot for the dustbin, then take the second banana and eat it.
He assumes he looks rather comical, trying to peel a banana with one clumsy hand, but meh. He's done far more embarrassing stuff and lived. Besides, it's rather silent here. Really peaceful. He finishes the second banana within a couple of minutes before finally heading towards the docks, any traces of sleep now gone as the cold wind greets him.
He takes in a deep breath, feeling the salt hit him right in the face. This, more than anything, has always felt like home.
Behind him, the sun rises on Air Temple Island.
"If I didn't know better I'd say that you didn't want to see me at all!" Bumi crows at Amuq, who looks at him from behind his desk with a tired look in his eyes. Bum’s eyes dart around, trying not to wince when he looks at most of the mismatched furniture, a complete contrast to the modern medical grade equipment in one side of the room. "Love what you did to your clinic though. Very.... chic."
And it’s only been a week since he’s had his last appointment too.
"I just rearranged some furniture." He responds before getting up and gesturing for Bumi to sit on the bed in the room. Bumi follows him rather obediently.
"A healer is never happy to see his most stubborn patient. Who is already wearing boots." Amuq notes, his already faint eyebrows disappearing into his hairline. "I think I told you to use slippers a little longer. Two weeks, to be accurate."
"I couldn't have come over here barefoot."
"Slippers, Bumi. Preferably the open toed ones, like what you monks wear."
"I'm not a monk though." Bumi points out with a little steel in his voice, before he bends to gently tug the boots off his feet, letting out a small yelp as it grazes against his still healing burn. Not to mention, it's extremely fucking difficult to do anything with a broken arm. When both the boot and his sock plops on the floor, he can see the cotton stuck to the inside of the sock, which looks very red. Not a good sign.
"Nevermind, I'll heal it again." He strides towards a very neatly organised cabinet to rummage for a bottle of distilled water, and before he knows it, Amuq is on his knees and there's glowing water around his feet, and it tickles like hell, but it feels better.
"Sometimes I feel like you should donate your body to science." Amuq mutters as focuses on the burns near his sole. "Never in my life have I met a retired man who took on a lavabender and lived. You'd be a fascinating study. Now wriggle your toes."
The suddenness of the order takes him by surprise, but Bumi wriggles his toes anyways. Much better now.
When Amuq is done, he swiftly bends the water he just used for healing into the mismatched pots kept on the windowsill, and pulls up a chair to sit next to him.
"How's the arm?"
And the doctor’s just as mechanical as ever, Bumi notes mentally.
"Better."
"Your shoulder?"
"Still achey but nothing too terrible. Goes a little stiff at random times."
"The burns on your foot? Apart from the fact that you refuse to follow my orders-"
Bumi makes a pffft sound before replying, now finding the little bit of spider-rat webs in the corner very interesting. "Fine fine. It's fine. I'll borrow Tenzin's slippers."
"You're supposed to be barefoot at home." Amuq reminds him, and Bumi nods. That much seems easy enough. "And not walk on the ground for maybe a week more at best."
Bumi nods again.
"Your neck and back?" Amuq asks finally, seemingly satisfied with the instructions he's just given Bumi.
"Uhm. Not too good, but I think that's just my age. Not too related to the Temple Attack." He replies as Amuq eyes him intensely. Koh damned healers, he's never met one who hasn't made him feel like he’s six again. "I crack my spine a lot lately. Could do with a massage, if I'm being honest."
"If anything feels medically wrong, you have my telephone." Amuq says finally, and then eyes his feet again. One bare, the other still inside a boot. "And I'm going to give you a pair of patient slippers, I need both those boots off. Wear that till you get home."
Bumi stares at him, appalled. "I came here by normal travel! Not by bison! There's a reason you don't see Bum-Ju with me, he doesn't like travelling in the city."
There's a truly evil glint in Amuq's eyes, matched only by the light reflecting from his balding head. It's jarring how none of it shows in his voice still. "So would you rather have me phone Mistress Pema? I feel like she'd be more than happy to help pick you up."
Bumi imagines Pema’s face when she gets a phone about her eccentric and useless brother-in-law from a healer. "No, nope. I'm fine. Absolutely not." He quickly hobbles off the bed to shove his foot into the flattest slippers he has ever used, to the point where he feels that walking barefoot would be better. It skids across the floor with absolutely no effort, and he only hopes he doesn't break his other arm while getting out of here.
"Can I smoke?" He asks as an afterthought, when he's got one hand curled around the door handle and a paper bag containing his boots tucked between his cast and body. The answer's probably yes, but years of being healed by his mother and then years of being in the Forces have made him wary to seemingly unconnected and unreasonable demands being made of him.
"Of course you can." Amuq answers, already busy with something Bumi can't make sense of. "Just not in here. I've got to close shop in a while and I can't leave incense lit overnight."
"Got it." Bumi nods, and then exits the clinic, walking rather uncomfortably towards the tram station just at the next block, but even more importantly, towards the small stall right next to the station, one that sells everything from the raunchiest prints of Bending Babes to mundane things like candies, though he's not sure why any parent would approach it after catching sight of the rather questionable magazine covers hung at the sides. It pops up and disappears ever so often, probably to avoid getting fined for running without a permit or for selling adult media without a license, the sort, but it was there an hour ago, and it should be here right now.
When he pulls up there, it's mostly empty, there's a solid twenty minutes before the last tram of the day arrives, and Bumi tries not to stare at whatever magazine he's selling today, instead fishing out a stray twenty yuan coin from his pocket and handing it to the man.
"A pack of baisha. Stiff whites."
"Soldier off duty?" The man asks, curious, as he hands Bumi a pack of cigarettes, and Bumi feels his knees threaten to give out for a minute. He wordlessly pulls out a single cigarette from the box, gesturing for a lighter. Once he's done with his first puff, he answers, voice sardonic.
"Nope. A monk."
To Uncle Commander Bumi
How are you?
It feels strange to call you Uncle Bumi now, even though you insist. You’ll always be Commander to me. Anyways, this is going to be a short letter, I’m sorry in advance, I’m still stuck with training troops at Dalian. I’m not training the troops myself, but I am going over proposal plans of how their training should be modified with mecha and all. I don’t want to go into technicalities, or you’ll accuse me of purposefully making you jealous. How’s your arm? I don’t understand why you don’t just ask someone to write the letters for you, instead of trying to phone me. I won’t have much access to phones here. Everything’s radio-ed here.
I’ve got a headache oncoming. A bunch of the recruits try to make excuses about why they need to see me because they’ve got suggestions, and it’s uncomfortable after a while. It's clear some of them have a crush on me. You would have soaked up the attention here and taken the heat off me. It’s hard to believe that it’s going to be almost an year since you’ve retired. I know we didn’t work together a lot, but meetings are boring without you around.
I tried talking to Yumei, like you suggested, but I don’t think she likes me very much. She’s a very poor substitute for you, how are the two of you friends? Mother still has a fun side, but I think... nevermind, I'm not putting that in a letter. (You should talk to her though, Mizu mentioned her being lonely, since Grandpa and Grandmai are in Ember Island.)
As for your problem, have you tried meditating with stimulus around? I remember that some boys in my firebending class used to meditate with water dripping down, but they said that the sound helped. Maybe you can do that somehow? Sit somewhere close to Tenzin chanting, or if there are meditation gongs, check that out. I honestly don’t know how to help with this, probably because I’ve been a firebender my whole life. Sorry if nothing I said was helpful.
PS: Colonel Lee seems more upset than me at not bumping into you at random. Can you please promise me that you haven’t ever slept with him?
Yours,
Iroh II
"How's the arm?" His brother asks just as he's done kicking the slippers beneath the couch, taking a seat next to him. They can view the entirety of Yue Bay from here, when the larger windows are open, and Bumi takes a moment to appreciate the rain, the chilling winds, and then focuses on his brother's bleating.
"Arm’s fine" Bumi grunts, just seconds after which a flying blue bunny flies right into his side, clearly hasty. "Amuq says I can get the cast off ."
"Chirrp!" Bum-Ju trills happily before attempting to burrow into his armpit, but Bumi quickly grips him by the back of his neck and plops him into his lap. At least someone looks pretty excited to see him, and he gently strokes Bum-Ju's head just as he likes it. His friend lets out a content purr and relaxes, and Bumi can feel a small smile creeping up on his face. He feels useless ever so often, but Bum-Ju being around does remind him of the fact that he’s needed around here, even if it’s only for cuddles.
Tenzin watches on for a few seconds before he clears his throat, one hand coming up to stroke his goatee. "I was wondering when he'd clear you for airbending training." He catches the look in Bumi's eyes and quickly amends his words. "When you're medically fit. Not when you've declared yourself fine."
Bumi waves his hand, as if swatting away an invisible fly. "They're more guidelines than anything."
Tenzin glances at his arm. "You've got your arm in a cast."
"In the United Forces they wouldn't even heal this sort of shit for a fortnight at least. Make an example, so that you wouldn't hurt yourself doing something stupid." Sure he's playing up a few facts, but who is there to verify his claims? Yumei and Iroh are both at the seas, having the time of their lives.
Reading the letters they send him is both the something he looks forward to, and something he despises with all his soul. Their letters don’t follow a strict schedule, but they’re diligent enough for Bumi to know that no matter what, every month he’ll have at-least three letters for him delivered to the island. He pours over them whenever he gets them, scraping the ink for any mention of stuff he knows. Of whether Iroh misses having to use Bumi’s Division whenever his army had to get from state to another as soon as possible. Of Yumei bitching about the Commander she’s a subordinate to now. He’s luckier than most to have friends that cherish him deeply and keep up with him, but it’s equally sad to know that he won’t be seeing them as often as he used to for the rest of his life. Yumei used to stick around him all the time, and he had often spent some smaller holidays getting drunk in her hometown. Meeting Iroh wasn't common, but he still met him. Meeting familiar faces and acquaintances is impossible too.
For now, he throws a glance at Tenzin’s face, and he starts adding spice to an old story from when he was new to the Forces as he realises his brother is gob-smacked. "I remember this one time they left a poor chap almost bleeding to death. He was stupid enough to get into a fight with a superior, got his ass handed to him, and we weren't allowed to pick up after him for at least that day. Never saw him again."
Tenzin stares at him, eyes almost boggling out of their sockets. It's oddly reminiscent of their childhood, when Tenzin would believe everything Bumi told him. He protests. "They wouldn't. You’re lying."
Bumi snorts at Tenzin’s voice, at how much he sounds like a child again, and Bum-Ju doesn't move from his position. "Yeah. Whatever makes you sleep easier. Listen, I can join meditation, right? Or do I need to be medically certified for that too?"
Tenzin blinks, clearly taken aback. It isn't often that Bumi agrees to a Tenzin-Activity without protest. "Yes, why not. You can, I just didn’t ask because..." Tenzin unsubtly glances at his arm.
"Cool cool cool cool. I'll do that. Tomorrow morning."
"We also lead evening meditation classes for airbenders who have college or school, or have jobs. You can join us tonight."
Now it is Bumi's turn to be confused, and his gaze follows his brother as Tenzin stands up. "You took my advice?"
A while ago, before the attacks on the Air Temple, Bumi had walked in on his brother going over a bunch of letters from his ‘feedback box’, an idea he’d had that very day to know what everyone wanted improvements on, eyebrows furrowed and shoulders slumped. He’d walked over all kooky, having assumed that the pages were filled with crap, but apparently nobody knew how to pull a prank anymore. The letters were from a lot of people, talking about how they had jobs and some of them were college students who’d joined on their year-end breaks, and that it would be impossible for them to give up their old lives.
Bumi ended up suggesting Tenzin to hold classes at different timings, rather than treat it as a school with set hours. Something after six for people with work, something at seven in the morning for those who could come at the time. The finer details weren’t all tuned in at the time, but Tenzin taking Bumi’s advice more seriously... is unexpected, to say the least. His suggestions haven’t been taken seriously by his brother in a long time. Huh. Tennie wasn’t lying about Bumi being a welcome addition then, back in the Northern Air Temple.
Tenzin’s face reddens.
"I had Tai run a quick demographic check. Most of the new airbenders here are in their early twenties, which means they do have to attend university. And jobs." Then, a second later, a little less stiff. "And your idea made the most sense. Is that how they did it in the Forces?"
Bumi freezes, not quite sure how to tell his brother that the idea isn’t from the Forces, but rather him going through some pamphlets from Republic City University he found somewhere on the Island. He rubs the back of his neck with his good arm. “Yeah, kind of.”
“It was a good idea. Thank you.”
Tenzin nods awkwardly, and then walks out of the room, leaving Bumi with one hand resting on Bum-Ju’s head. What a strange day.
Biweekly lunch with what is left of the Team Avatar is always fun in Bumi's opinion. Always new ears to regal with his stories, and Bolin actually listens to what he says, while Mako and Asami nod politely and agree with whatever he says. Opal joins sometimes too, giving him an opportunity to dig up old stories about her mother and her aunt that everyone refuses to believe. He is the eldest amongst them, even though he doesn’t act that way.
Today Mako informs them that Asami couldn't come, prompting her meeting with somebody who could possibly turn her company's image around, now that the Future Industries have financed both a terrorist takeover of the city and a civil war. Of course, he didn’t phrase it like that. He neatly arranged his slippers while saying that Asami was busy with interviews for a PR guy. Bolin had almost rushed off to find Opal before being informed that she was mid-meditation, and maybe he should meet her after lunch.
They head towards the dining room, and though Bumi wasn’t expecting it, there is an empty table in the corner, though he guesses that it's nothing more than a by-product of some new Airbender chap finding out that Master Tenzin's heading to have food
"How's Air Nation training going without me?" Bumi asks as all of them take a seat, munching on a sweet pear that Mako brought for them. Sunlight hits him right in the face and he almost yawns in simple delight. Such a thoughtful boy, and such a shame that he has the emotional intelligence of a peanut.
But Bumi isn't one to talk about it, and at least he's mindful enough to remember to bring something everytime he comes over, though with his paycheck, probably not a wise decision. He’s still a cop, right?
"It's going well, I suppose." Tenzin replies, setting down his bowl of noodles, the shreds of some green chilli still untouched and mostly sticking to one side of the bowl. There's a shared glance between Mako and Bolin, who clearly want more information than a nonchalant answer, but don't know what words to say, and instead Bolin takes a large slurp of his own noodles.
Thankfully, Tenzin elaborates before Bumi can butt in with another question just for shits and giggles. "We've got more airbenders reaching out to us, but many of them seem hesitant to join because of the Red Lotus attack. Some of them they just want to get their bending under control before returning back to normal life. And many of them are seeking to get their bending removed." He takes a soft, pain clear in his voice. "I can't force them to stay, no matter how much I want to. You just can't force airbending on someone."
Bumi snorts, drawing the attention of a few acolytes sitting in the tables near theirs, all of them engaged in conversations held at much lower voices than theirs. Spirits know that he wishes someone forced airbending upon him. His father tried to, for a while, before he suddenly made a permanent switch to the nice but distant parent Bumi remembers him as. He hadn’t understood it as a child, but now he just feels a little bad for his father.
Tenzin glances at him irritatedly, and then turns his attention back to the brothers.
As Bumi’s eyes fall on his own bowl of thupka, he realises he won't be able to stomach it. He pokes the dish with his chopsticks, dully thinking of his mother and sister. He isn’t doing anything here, so it’s not like he can’t go and stay with them for a while. But with Korra... The thupka’s not the version with meat that his mother started making as an option for her, Kya and him when it was clear that the two of them wouldn't bend a sneeze, let along the mighty winds. And as much he wants to deny it, it always tasted better with yak-bison in it instead of the seafood that his mother complimented it with.
Bolin breaks the awkward silence. "But they're not looking at the bigger picture! If even a thousand people get airbending, they can have kids and repopulate the Air Nomads within decades! Every bender lost is ten years added to the recovery of Airbending."
Bumi starts paying attention again at his eyes.
"You can't expect them to give up their life for a nation they don't know." He points out, and then meets eyes with Mako. "Waddya' say?"
"I... I don't know."
"Coward." Bumi mutters under his breath, before finally taking a bite of the thupka.
Mako ignores his remark, and instead steers the conversation back towards more prudential matters, like if they have enough funds to accommodate a sizeable population of around three hundred people on an island meant for only a hundred Air Acolytes. That is without mentioning how so many of the new airbenders come from cultures completely different and diverse from what his father and brother have partaken in their whole life, and how it some of it completely clashes with Air Nomadic principles.
He himself tries not to think about uncountable cigarette butts in his trashcan and some of his most treasured alcohol tucked beneath his bed, because while he isn't an expert, he's pretty sure that any "vices" are forbidden by Air Nomad code are probably a part of his regular habits.
"My father maintained an independent fund for the restoration of the Air Nation, mostly financed by the Fire Nation." Tenzin says, stroking his goatee thoughtfully. "I currently have the full rights to that fund, but it hasn't been used much ever since the temples were restored back in my childhood...."
The four of them blanch silently.
Spirits above know how much money it would take to rebuild a temple that was lavabended and exploded from the inside. It’s going to be so costly to repair it, even with the Fire Nation Funds, and while he supposes they could just ask the Fire Nation to hand over the reparations of the next fifty years in a single season, he doesn’t think that will work. He can just imagine Izumi’s face at that.
He still has faint memories of the temples being rebuilt though. Aunt Toph earthbending a lot of lost architecture into place, and Uncle Zuko playing with him in what he can only vaguely remember as the Western Air Temple while a lot of people in red helped transport and construct anything made of wood. That was before his parents settled down in Republic City properly, citing his proper education as a main reason, though Bumi suspects that was around the time Kya was about to be born.
"Anyways, I'm hoping that even with money going into the reconstruction of the Northern Air Temple, we won't have to spend much. Suyin offered to send us a bunch of earthbenders. We just need to be a bit careful with spending our money, and any personal expenses are on them." Tenzin says, and Bumi makes a mental note to talk to Iroh and Yumei about this later, ask if there’s any loophole that allows the Forces to send men over to help.
Bolin looks a little interested at his words, and Bumi watches on in interest. “Is there any way I can join? I mean, I’m not a half bad earthbender myself."
Mako’s expression makes it clear that Bolin hasn’t discussed this idea with him before. “Does Opal know that you want to join her mom’s group?”
Bolin blinks, and it’s almost fascinating to see his expression clear, like he’s remembering something forgotten. “Wait, is she free now? I gotta tell her about this.”
Tenzin sighs softly, and Mako almost looks guilty at bringing up Opal.
Bumi gets up. “Y’know what buddy, I’ll just get her.”
"Uncle Bumi, eyes closed. That means no peeking." Jinora's voice encourages him to do the contrary, actually.
Instead of taking subtle peeks, he gives up on keeping his eyes closed all together, taking the opportunity to fall on the ground instead, letting out a quite oomph as his back hits the wooden floor of the gazebo. The sun shines into his eyes, but he shuts them pretty quickly.
"I don't think m'cut out for this, kid." Bumi says after a few moments of awkward silence. "Not the meditation at least. Thank you for helping me, but I'll just try to sleep quietly in class next time. And I'll tell Bum-Ju to not make jokes about your dad's temper."
This is part of his extra classes with Jinora, whenever she’s free. It’s something of his own initiative, a fact he’s very proud of. It’s been over three weeks since he’s started joining Tenzin during meditation, and over three weeks since he realised that he sucks at meditating. While everyone easily hit the thirty minute mark, Bumi still gives up at around ten, his mind too restless to be calmed for so long. It would be fine if he atleast had the ability to sit down for thirty minutes and pretend that he was meditating, but apparently he’s too juvenile to even do that. His bones feel strange if he’s in one position for too long, and his body yearns for movement. It’s comparable to be tied up inside a blanket, like sushi.
He opens his eyes against the drumbeat of his heart, hoping that his niece isn't too disappointed in him. What he gets instead is Jinora sprawled out right next to him, in solidarity.
"Hey, kid?" He asks, gently nudging her out of his way so that the two of them can sit properly, because he isn't quite sure if his back and fracture can handle the discomfort any longer.
"Hmm?"
"Do you... do you, uhm...think that I can do this?"
Jinora blinks in confusion, and he feels a smack in the middle of his chest, a phantom pain that makes him realise just what he's about to do here. Asking a kid for reassurance he can't give himself. It's at moments like these that he wishes his mom was till here, that he misses Kya and Yumei, or fuck, even Izumi and Miko. He still wishes his father was here, of course, but they're the best he can get right now. They’d either call him out on some bullshittery he didn’t even know he was partaking in, or console him.
"Do what?"
"Meditate.” He lies. “I can't focus for too long, y'know. And since you've meditated with your siblings, I figured you could just... say something?" He lets it flow rather quickly, and Jinora nods rather eagerly, a grin on her face.
"Oh absolutely! Ikki once meditated for fifteen minutes, so I'm sure you can meditate too! You just need to practice!" She looks a little bit like a spirit herself, carved from compassion. "I believe in you, Uncle Bumi."
He tilts back his head to look at the sky again, this time the cloud blocking the sun. It's a wonderful day to get high, but of course, Tenzin had once caught wisp of his plan and came over to grace him with a lecture, because most drugs are banned in the United Republic, and when Bumi had pointed that he was technically a member of the Air Nation now, he had pretended not to hear and rushed away just as quickly as the wind.
"Thanks kiddo." He says, and Jinora smiles at him again.
Her hair is still in the process of growing out, though it's almost as short as a uniform military cropped cut after what, weeks of growing it out? And when he thinks about it, she took a little longer to get out of the bald baby phase, with tufts of hair appearing a little later than usual, and in his humble opinion, she was the baldest baby to ever baby for a very long time. He and Kya had privately joked that she was a born airbender, though not meanly.
They have always loved her too much, in a way they could have never loved Tenzin.
But when he thinks about it some more, isn't that kid they rescued from the Dai Li also walking around with his hair almost shaved?
"Sooooo." He teases. "How are things going with your boyfriend?"
The effect is immediate. Jinora reddens like a tomato (very much like Tenzin, he notes with amusement) and coughs, eyes squeezing shut for a second before she's waving away the accusations. "He's not my boyfriend, Uncle Bumi! We're just very good friends!"
"Uhuh. The same way your mom is your dad's best friend." He playfully bumps her, and when she says nothing beyond a shy squeak, he takes the moment to drop some amazing Uncle Bumi wisdom, the sorta stuff she'll understand when she's sixty and a wise woman herself. Not that Bumi's a wise man himself, but he hasn't gotten wrinkles just under the sun.
"I understand if you don't wanna talk about love with your kooky uncle Bumi, but I'm just saying, it's pretty great that you're good friends, because that's what love is."
"You're not married anymore." Jinora says after a few seconds, as if a divorce stops him from being an expert on love.
"But I can help you sneak around with Kai if you promise to not get off the island without an adult." Bumi flashes a grin, fully aware that he's pulling at her now. "All I ask for in exchange is you giving me some private training when my sling's off, so that I'm not behind everyone else."
Jinora seems to contemplate his request, her face scrunched up the way his father's used to be when he was in deep thought. For a second, it hits him that he's sitting in front of the future of an entire nation, even with all these new airbenders around. It makes sense. The first master amongst the third generation of Airbenders, and the daughter and granddaughter of men who have known the loneliness of being the Last Airbender.
They wouldn’t have to, if I was-
"I don't think you'll need to catch up with anyone, Uncle Bumi." Jinora informs him dutifully, her thumbs twiddling as she tries to remember the names of any prominent airbenders. "Kai has the raw power, and Otaku is doing great at the theoretical aspects. Everyone else is still adjusting." She takes a moment to pick up one of the two glasses of sugarcane juice on the bench in front of them, and takes a long sip. He had been appalled when Pema had forbidden him from teaching the kids how to eat sugarcane the proper way (Meelo would ruin the house), so he spent the entirety of the last two days and today morning peeling and making sugarcane juice with her help instead.
"It's like you said, it's like boot camp." She says as a summary, and Bumi finds himself agreeing. Definitely like bootcamp. A shoddier, cruder, and kinder version, but bootcamp anyway. And to random people who haven’t not done a single pushup in their lives, this would feel horrible, no exceptions. Airbending requires a sense of agility, but it also requires core strength, and a body that can carry its weight. He's pretty sure he's seen some of the new airbenders get out of breath when they go on a course that he considers to be an evening walk.
He's probably being a little too hopeful right now, but maybe by the time he gets his sling and cast off, which is a grand total of three weeks away, he might still be able to catch up with the other airbenders. As children, he and Kya had done the gates, mastered most of the movements of an airbender till the point that they couldn't, and his father joked that perhaps he should invent a new mastery for honorary Airbenders, for him and his sister. And then Tenzin was born, and they had forgotten most of it, unless he has much faith in his muscle memory. Kya had leaned into healing, and he had leaned towards the most unconventional methods of fighting for his life and job, but he figures it's still somewhere inside him.
Dormant, but not dead, kind of like Druk when he's asleep. Waiting for the right moment, for when it can be used truly. Perhaps it was the same case with his chi, dormant inside him, nudged awake by a push caused by Not-Dad-Avatar. After all, what would have he done with his bending? The seas were his truest calls, and perhaps it would have been kinder to kill his father than to make him witness an Air Nomad joining the military.
It's not the same now. He isn't Commander Bumi anymore, just...Bumi.
Bumi, who can airbend. Bumi, who has his habits soaked in whatever is blasphemous to the the Air Nomads.
What a fucking mess.
To General Stuffypants,
Thank yoou for writing to me evn when I couldn’t write back, sorry for my hanwriting and speling here. Arm’s beter, but writng is still a pain.
Now that I thimk about it, I did sex with your guy once. Amd I miss you to.
I’ll be geting my cast off next week, I’ll write more then.
Bumi
"Try not to hurt yourself again." Amuq says when the cast is finally off his arm, turning off the small machine that oddly resembles one of those mechanical chainsaws. Dried plaster lies on the floor, surrounded by a lot of dust. Bumi would offer to airbend it clean, but knowing his luck he'd be destroying half the property here. "And congratulations on recovering without any long term health problems at your age."
"Bet you're sad that you lost your most loyal patient, huh?" He jokes, rotating his wrist a little, and then shrugging his shoulders. Fuck, that feels good, and within a few days the size difference between both his arms will be nil as well.
His burn has healed extremely well to the point where he can't even see any scars, which is just fantastic, and in another two to three days, he'll be cleared to do every physical activity under the sun, and he can finally, finally start his airbending training.
There's amusement in Amuq's voice as he meets Bumi's eyes. "Knowing you, I'll see you back in the waiting room with Mistress Pema in a week. Just try not to fight a lavabender this time."
Bumi mock-salutes with his now perfectly better arm. There's a little bit of discomfort, but that's owing to the seven weeks of not using it at all. "Yessir! Got it!" He then drops it like it weighs a thousand kilos, voice a little more appreciative. "You're the best healer someone could ask for. After my mom and sister and a friend from officer school."
Amuq gives him a thin smile. "Glad to know that. Now if you'll excuse me, I have another patient to look after. Try not to come here again till at least summer."
"I won't!" He bellows, his airbending assisting him in being a little louder, and the woman right outside the main room, in the waiting area throws him a side-eye before returning to her magazine.
Bumi steps out of the clinic, glad that he decided to carry his heavier coat with him, because it's pretty obvious that winter's almost here, if the chill and the deep blue sky and the grey ocean is any indication. A cold breeze passes through him, jolting him right in his core, where it seems to nestle for a second before exiting. It's never happened before, but ever since he's gotten his airbending, he's been so sensitive to the breeze around him. It's almost comparable to how it feels when he nicks himself right where his beard melts into skin. He makes a mental note to ask Tenzin about this later and slips into the coat, tucking his hands inside the pockets.
He pulls out a pack of baisha and lights it before bringing it to his lips for a drag. His feet automatically lead him towards the closest he can get to the Bay, which is a decent five streets away, but the sky stays still, as if waiting for him to be hit in the face with a salty breeze before it resumes its natural course. Before he knows it, he's got his arms propped up against the rails separating the streets from the docks.
There's a loud, slow horn from the docks, conversing in a language that Bumi doesn't know. But today, his attention is directed towards the statue he can just make out to be his father's image. He’s so young in it. The image in the statue doesn’t look older than sixteen, and his heart clenches. That’s just a boy. He stares at it as he pulls the smoke into his lungs and lets it out, letting the nicotine rush cloud his brain for a second. It feels strangely guilty to smoke while staring at his dead father's statue, despite the fact that his father had handed him some sort of Fire Nation wine with every promotion without any discomfort. The wind howls, and Bumi feels like he’ll throw up.
He thinks of the first day, when he had received his airbending. Of how he’d almost fallen to his death before a gust of wind had saved him. He remembers his father doing the same, for him and Kya and Tenzin. Stopping them from tipping over, or saving a falling plate with a similar gust of wind. He knows that Korra isn’t his father. Never was, even when she had access to his... soul. But he couldn’t help but wonder if he had seen that, through her. If he’d felt proud. Or disappointment, because he’d become an airbender too late, when his bending meant next to nothing to the world.
Does it mean anything to him? He had always thought that wisdom would come naturally to him as he grew older, gained more living experience, but now, standing here, he still isn’t sure of what to make of him becoming an airbender. He’s not the young boy trailing after his father and copying his movements anymore. He had once confessed to Miko (on their honeymoon, if he's not wrong. It's a wonder she stuck around with him as long as she did.) about how he was actually glad he didn’t turn out to be an airbender, glad to be not tied down by duty. But now, when he’s got essentially nothing to do, the spirits come and slap him in the face.
The pit in his stomach deepens, and he quickly stubs the cigarette under his heel. His vision blurs, and he hastily wipes away any tears with the back of his hand, and turns his back to his father’s visage.
He should probably head home before Tenzin starts worrying.