Phew, that felt good.
Chan—tired, sweaty—stood opposite me, hands on his knees, glaring. The glare wasn't intimidating yet—he was still too small—but he tried.
And I—completely unfatigued, not even sweating—stood there, looking to everyone else like I was floating in my thoughts, only now starting to glance at the crowd.
But whatever, that doesn't bother me much. I'll survive this "popularity" somehow.
What the fuck just happened to my emotions is what bothers me more.
"What's this fight in school?" boomed the voice of our… trainer, sorry, teacher from behind the crowd of onlookers. They hurriedly parted, revealing spotless me and panting Chan to the stern madam.
"No fight. Chan was just showing me a few moves. He's training firebending, after all," I said. Let this be a conditional olive branch to the gang.
"Hmm… Do you take me for a fool, Akimaru?" the old witch narrowed her eyes, fixing me with a heavy stare.
"Of course not. He really was showing moves," I said, making my eyes perhaps too honest. I wouldn't believe myself.
"Fine," she sighed, surveying the "training" spot. "Don't be late for the next lesson—it starts soon."
She turned and walked primly back toward the entrance. A sulking Chan, without looking at me, brushed himself off and headed to class. His posse followed almost in single file.
I raised an eyebrow at the spectacle and went to the classroom too. The second lesson was history. I'd read books, but honestly they're just propaganda booklets, like everywhere. So I'm unlikely to hear anything truthful, but the general outline—and details about the airbenders—might be interesting.
The classroom was almost empty except for Chan and his cronies, who glared at me sullenly. Paying them little attention, I took my seat.
Over the next few minutes kids trickled in and sat down. By the bell everyone was there, and right after it rang the teacher entered. She'd clearly been waiting outside.
"Today we have the history of ancient tribes…"
Oh no, seriously? Even in second year they start from the very fucking beginning. Ancient tribes—that's the era of the lion-turtles, pre-Avatar times. Extremely uninteresting history because it was so long ago, almost nothing survived, and the knowledge is completely useless. Assumption upon assumption.
Fine, whatever. Let's hear about the turtles. I wonder if "lion-turtles" is just a figure of speech or if they actually believe it? Though this world is crazy enough—could be real turtles.
*
A year of brutally enduring boredom at school passed. Literally a few days ago my first school year ended, and what can I say besides it being incredibly dull? Teachers are all over me. They don't call me a genius yet, but I'm definitely labeled a very smart kid.
And it led to nothing good. Nor anything particularly bad, to be honest. Blending in still didn't work, so whatever.
Ji never told the family about our quite decent ongoing beef. He and Chan latched onto me and, while they don't try to fight anymore, they annoy me with petty stuff. "Jokes," ruining homework between classes… they sabotage pretty well, but not critically.
My new ability—or whatever it is—helps a lot with all that. The apathy and indifference I fell into at the very beginning kept unexpectedly crashing over me for a long time afterward. The only thing that saved me was thinking about my previous life and how curious I was to find out what it was. And somehow that started heavily suppressing my emotions in general. I basically showed almost no emotions unless I forced myself.
And that was very bad. But I still haven't figured out what to do about it. At least the interest in my previous life doesn't weaken under this nonsense. Otherwise my emotional range would be that of a log—or less.
Along with this apathy during the "episodes," another trait emerged—I take literally everything way too lightly. Sounds okay until you realize that if every kid in the academy died right now, the everyday smile wouldn't leave my face. I'd probably feel sorry for them, then shrug—"that's life" or "that was their fate."
On the other hand, it's really not that bad, especially considering upcoming events. After all, I'm not an emotionless block of wood. Things just feel easy.
Though honestly, it wasn't that different before. Even from the fragments of memories from my previous life. It's more that what would once have shocked me I now take just as lightly as everything else. Though that's only in theory.
In short, my psychological buffer for perceiving the world has grown massively but hasn't changed my personality.
Anyway, all that is bullshit. Right now the whole family is going to the Ember Islands. Either I still don't understand my family's status, or literally all aristocrats have plots there, but we have a pretty decent house where we'll be vacationing.
That's how father and uncle decided to reward the older sons for their success in firebending studies. I still don't see the success, but they said it, so they know best. They conveniently forgot about me—the last time they asked about my studies was probably before enrollment when they decided to put me straight into second year. After that, the satisfied elders left me to figure out school life on my own.
Except father became even colder, though it seemed impossible. But he manages. Apparently the older brother's firebending success is real, and against that backdrop I completely fade.
The vacation house on the resort islands was almost the same as on the main island. Just fewer steampunk gadgets and lighter architecture so the buildings didn't look too massive and oppressive. It's a resort, after all. That's why the colors were moderate—red took a back seat, praise Agni. Only when we arrived at this island nature did I realize how tired my eyes were of constant red.
The ship brought us to the island, then we walked to the residence. Servants started unpacking, and everyone split into pairs by interest. Uncle and father watched the older kids' attempts at something and tried to teach; mom and aunt sat gossiping and giggling periodically. Guess who was left sitting alone on the sand under a palm tree?
I didn't mind. It's nice to talk to a smart person sometimes. Too bad there are no books here and I couldn't bring any. I had absolutely nothing to do.
It was almost evening, the first day on this boring island was ending, so I decided to leave the relatives gathered around the campfire and go explore. There was still plenty of time before dark, so I wasn't afraid of getting lost.
Earlier, when the ship passed the shore, I'd seen one very interesting place: a wild beach. Meaning a beach not meant for people—some distance from the estates.
The sand was littered with natural debris—branches, logs, etc.—and it was even a bit risky to enter the water because the coastal area wasn't cleaned; anything could be there. Though of course not as dangerous as it sounds. Worst case—big fish, sharp coral, wreckage… or Cthulhu. Kidding.
To my surprise, as I approached the beach I noticed a lone small figure sitting on a rotten log near the water. Getting closer, I could make out a girl. Yes, a girl about six years old.
Probably another local aristocrat—the look screamed it. Need I mention black hair and refined features? Only the golden eyes stood out, already looking at me with displeasure for several seconds as I approached the log.
"Hey, shorty, why so sad?" I decided to throw her off balance right away and entertain myself a little.
"I'm not short!" the girl exclaimed, narrowing her eyes, but immediately lost interest in me and stared at the water. "I'm just enjoying nature."
"Sure, I'll enjoy it next to you then," I shrugged—her business—and sat on the rotten fallen trunk. Who dragged it to the shore anyway? "It's incredibly boring at home."
We sat in silence for a few minutes. Then the girl gathered her thoughts and asked casually:
"What about your parents?"
"What about them? They're not particularly interested in me," I snorted. "I was unlucky enough to be born without bending talent… unlike my older brother. So I'm pretty much a nobody in my family. I'm not even sure they noticed I left."
The girl didn't respond again, sinking into her own thoughts. This time deeper—we sat in silence for a good half hour, the only sign she was alive being her breathing.
"Me too," the girl whispered, barely audible. "I'm not sure anyone noticed I left either."
What could I say? In response I just put one arm around her, trying to show support. At my touch she first froze like a statue, confusion on her face, but it quickly passed, replaced by slight contentment and a hint of panic. And no, I didn't suddenly become a master of reading faces—everything showed so brightly on this cutie's face that her thoughts were an open book.
Looks like things are really bad and the kid is severely lacking physical contact. A common problem among many, many aristocratic children. Everyone compensates differently. Then they grow up unable to express affection, and their kids turn out the same. The wheel of samsara, damn it.
"I wonder what they—all of them, led by the Fire Lord—expect from this generation when almost everyone I meet has some kind of trauma or messed-up upbringing."
"The Fire Lord always has a plan!" the girl suddenly flared up, throwing her hands dramatically and staring at me with eyes burning with righteous anger.
"Maybe," I said placatingly. She's too young to understand that what she said is an oxymoron, but she reacted sharply—better change the subject. "Anyway, what's your name? We've been talking this long and still don't know the most basic thing about each other."
At this seemingly innocent question, fear flashed in the girl's eyes for a second, then anger, then determination mixed with cunning.