Chapter Text
The room was cold and sterile, which didn't help when paired with the harsh overhead light glaring down on the small metal table Katara had sat at for the last three hours. All her senses felt like they were being toyed with, and she could feel her mind spiralling the longer she was forced to stay in this room.
Katara bit at her nail, ignoring the small crack on it and the blood that welled up from behind; nevertheless, she continued to bite at it over and over. Like she didn’t even notice… and maybe she hadn’t.
Katara turned slightly, catching her reflection in the mirror. Frizzy, unkept hair and wide red eyes with deep bags under them. Beyond her appearance, she gazed at the one-way mirror. She knew the police investigators were watching, staring at her from the other side, dissecting her every twitch.
Every second dragged, stretching agonisingly slowly. Katara wasn’t sure she would be leaving the room at this point, and that raised her anxiety. Was the story she gave on the day not enough? If they didnt believe what she had to say then, would they believe what she had to say now? Did the others stick to their own stories?
If they didn’t…
Her stomach flopped… But they wouldn’t do that. Right? They would stick to the plan… They had too. Her leg bounced faster. Her teeth pressed harder onto her nails.
‘Stop it Katara!’ She told herself, 'We're family. We're together in this… completely…’
But the words didn’t soothe her fear; instead, they warped, twisting into flashes behind her eyes as images spread like viruses of shouting, arguments, hands grabbing, and blood.
CRACK
Her nail split backwards, and blood welled instantly, dripping onto the floor. But Katara didn’t even flinch. She just stared at herself in the one-way mirror, lips moving faintly.
We’re friends…
We’re a big, happy family…
The door swung open.
Katara’s gaze lifted slowly. The moment she saw who it was, her expression shifted, brightening. She quickly composed herself, slipping into the role she had created. With a swift motion, Katara brushed her hair back into place.
“Officer Toph.”
“Just Toph, please,” Toph replied, tapping her walking stick lightly as she found her chair. “‘Officer Toph’ makes me sound ancient.” She let out a short laugh. “And I know I don’t look a day over twenty!”
Her tone was almost playful. Like this was nothing more than a casual conversation between old buddies from back in the day.
Toph slid a piece of paper across the table. “Look what got dropped off,” she said with a small grin. “I’m told you know these people quite well…?”
Katara reached for it, but the second her eyes landed on the image, she flinched.
It was a photo of all of them, the whole group. The Elites. They were crammed into their private study room, huddled close together, laughing like the perfect, untouchable group they were. And for a moment, Katara just stared.
Her gaze lingered.
This was what she was fighting for… to preserve this group, to keep this friendship together.
“I'm guessing you know them?” Toph prompted after the silence stretched a little too long.
Katara blinked, pulling herself back. She nodded softly. “But don’t you already know that?”
Toph tilted her head. “I’m not asking on a surface level, Katara.” Her tone sharpened. “I’m asking if you really know them. Each and every one of them.”
Katara’s grip tightened on the photo. Her palms felt damp. She looked back down at their smiling faces, which seemed to distort the longer she stared at them.
“Then, do you know this kid?” Toph asked, sliding a smaller photo forward. “I’m hoping I’m showing the right one—” she added lightly, “—because, well… I am blind.”
The joke barely registered; Katara’s eyes dropped to the new image, and her stomach sank. The person in the photo was smiling brightly, eyes pure and so damn naive.
“I don’t know who that is,” Katara said immediately, but her voice wavered.
Toph’s laughter stopped, and silence settled over the room as Toph turned her head slightly; even with her blindness, she faced Katara directly, and Katara felt herself shrink under it.
“Really?” Toph said quietly. “Because I’ve heard you two were always around each other.”
Katara’s fingers twisted into the sleeve of her shirt. She shrugged, forcing nonchalance. “Maybe we spoke in passing. I don’t know…”
Toph didn’t respond right away. She just let out a short, unimpressed breath and reached forward, taking the photos back as Katara slid them across the table. The papers disappeared into the folder with a soft snap as Toph leaned back in her chair, arms resting behind her head like she had all the time in the world. “Tell me about that friend group of yours.” She asked.
Katara swallowed as her throat felt dry. “I—I’ll speak with a lawyer present.”
Toph didn’t move.
But her smile faded.
Her expression stilled, growing colder as her attention stayed fixed on Katara. Then, finally, she reached for her files.
“Smart move, sugar queen,” she said lightly, though the humour didn’t quite reach her voice. “But one truth always prevails… no matter how hard you try to hide it.”
She stood, tapping her walking stick against the floor as she adjusted her stance. At the door, she paused, turning her head just slightly, still aligned perfectly with Katara, and it was starting to freak her out.
“I’ll get you that lawyer,” she added. “For now… sit tight.”
And the second the door clicked shut, something inside Katara snapped. She folded forward, burying her face in her arms as a raw, broken scream tore out of her chest.
Family?
Really?
The words felt hollow now, almost worthless. Here she was, alone, and none of that mattered. None of them mattered. And Aang…? Aang was dead.