Chapter Text
The sun is touching the horizon, and Jin is practically bouncing with excitement. With two newcomers to Ba Sing Se on her hands, she has a perfect excuse to dump Lan on Tai for an evening and revisit her favourite haunts. Winding her way through crowded streets, Jet and Li follow in her wake, listening to her endless stories. Jet laughs and smiles in all the right places, but Li is generally silent. It was only under duress- and a little needling from his uncle- that she and Jet managed to convince him to come with them on an evening out. They’re headed to the small outdoor theatre located a short distance from Jin’s favourite noodle house. Where they’re going is a surprise, and she can feel both Jet and Li’s wariness. But they follow along anyway.
Eventually, they stumble onto a main thoroughfare, where strings of lanterns are hung by the side of the road, illuminating the night. A large crowd of people flow in either direction. Force of habit compels Jin to grab Jet and Li’s hands and drag them onward, behind her. She tries not to notice the way Li flinches, then flushes immediately after. With equal skill she ignores the way Jet squeezes her hand like a lifeline. They’re both broken, she reminds herself. You’re doing all you can. But how she wishes she could do more. If Jin could light up Li’s eyes the way his uncle can, she would do it. If she could restore the wholeness that once lived inside Jet, she would do it. If she could erase the fire, ash, and bone that lives in her own mind, she would do it. But Jin can’t, so she does all she knows how to: distract.
Once they’re back on the side streets, Jin releases their hands. Li breathes an audible sigh of relief, and immediately shoves his hands into his pockets. Unable to resist teasing him, Jin speaks:
“Am I really that despisable?” she says, smile flashing across her face. Li’s ears redden, and his gaze shoots to the ground. His mouth forms unspoken words for a few seconds before Jin puts him out of his misery. “You look cute when you’re flustered.” Li looks as if he wants to melt into the ground, face glowing as red as a home-grown tomato. Jet laughs loudly and claps him on the shoulder, and as they continue on their way. He tells Li all about Jin’s childhood teasing. A glowing warmth spreads through Jin, as comfortable as homemade vegetable and noodle soup. There’s comfort in this, with a friend she thought she would never see again and a boy who she doesn’t know if she’ll ever truly know.
And then they arrive at their destination: the outdoor amphitheater. As they step out of the grungy alleyway that brought them here, Li lets out a small gasp. Both Jin and Jet glance over at him, and find him grinning. Jin blinks. She was worried that this might not be the best idea, with Jet and Li’s wariness. But the light in Li’s eyes eases her apprehension. In fact, it’s the best she could ask for. It’s rare to see Li even content, much less excited. A grin creeps up Jin’s face.
“You like theatre?” Jet asks, teasing smile on his face. He swings an arm around Li, who flinches, but doesn’t pull away. Idly, Jin contemplates thoroughly beating up whoever gave him that instinct.
Li swallows and looks at the ground. “Yeah, I do. My mom used to take me,” he says, voice thick with something dangerously close to tears. Jet’s smile falls, and he steps away. Jin, conversely, steps forward and grabs his hand. Giving him her brightest smile, she pulls him forward once again.
“Then what’s stopping us? Let’s go and have some fun.” To her relief, Li gives a small smile and continues forward with a pep in his step. Jet follows behind them, laughing. Laughter and light on a chilly spring evening is almost too much to hope for. Jin has spent so many nights alone, trying to avoid nightmares. And now, she has two other misfits beside her, full of demons and memories and life. It’s a small thing, but Ba Sing Se almost feels like home.