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The United Forces’ latest mission was reconnaissance, scouting out a potential threat from Ozai’s lingering supporters. They’d been steadily dwindling under Firelord Zuko’s zero-tolerance-for-terrorists policies, and Izumi easily picked up the thread when Zuko abdicated to let her ascend the throne, but ideas were much harder to kill than people. As a result, this was a relatively routine mission, done every once in a while to make sure they didn’t gain enough traction to rise again.
And that was all well and good. As a Commander, Bumi had plenty of experience in this sort of thing.
Which was probably why he got cocky and stumbled right into the path of a knife.
“Ah!” He gasped as the knife pierced his left thigh, hopping around on his right leg as he wielded his sword more clumsily now with his off-kilter balance.
The man fighting him matched him blow-for-blow, a cruel smirk on his face. “Born of the Avatar, married to that failure of a princess. Tell me, Commander, does it make you feel proud when you wear colors that no longer have meaning?”
Bumi snarled, striking hard, and the other man hissed, parrying him with increasing annoyance. An arrow struck Bumi’s calf in the same spot, and he winced as he felt it and the knife dig deeper together.
Suddenly, his opponent screamed as an arrow pierced his arm. Bumi turned to see Lieutenant Asha wielding a crossbow, and they fired another arrow as he watched. Beside them stood two other soldiers, already racing down to join him. “Get to cover, Commander!” Asha called. “We’ve got this!”
Bumi nodded in thanks and limped away, searching for a place he could duck and cover. He found one before long, reaching into his belt to verify that he still had his throwing knives—a gift from Mai on his 16th birthday, and ones that he cherished dearly. He smiled to feel them, falling into his natural pose—one foot forward, one back—while leaning slightly against the wall in case he should need it, but not much—they couldn’t afford to look weak if someone should spot him.
Mai had always taught him to be sharp-eyed and strategic. “Never throw a knife unless you have a reason,” she always warned. So now, Bumi kept his eyes on the fight at hand, waiting for an opening.
He found one—one of his soldiers turned away from an oncoming NOS Loyalist, and Bumi flicked his knife out just the way Mai had shown him, the way he’d honed in the years since. It struck true, and Bumi grinned.
Still got it.
It was a while before they called it quits, the Loyalists rounded up to be sent to the police station for trial. Apparently, Lin was quite looking forward to dealing with them.
Bumi, meanwhile, stumbled home, looking forward to just collapsing into a chair, stitching himself up a bit, and sleeping it off.
“Daddy!”
Except for that. Despite the pain, a smile bloomed on his face as his son and daughter rushed out to greet him. Mizuki in particular latched on to his leg, and he stifled his wince as he picked her up, swinging her around. “Hello, Zuki.”
“Hi, Daddy!” She grinned. “You’re finally home!”
“So I am,” he agreed, kissing her forehead. “I’ve missed you. Both of you,” he added, smiling at Iroh, who smiled softly back. “Get over here, Iroh! I swear you must’ve grown at least half a meter since I saw you last.”
“You’ve only been gone a few days,” Iroh laughed, but he came forward to let Bumi pull him into a hug. Iroh was still 14, a long way off from being able to enlist, but Bumi knew it was on his mind. It was a conversation he and Izumi were tabling for much later…one that Bumi knew would be hard, given how much more he resembled his grandfather by the day.
As Iroh pulled back, though, Bumi caught a frown on his face and asked, “What is it?”
Iroh seemed torn, glancing from Bumi to Mizuki and back again. Then he said, “Dad, maybe you should res—”
“Is that my husband I hear?” Izumi called, appearing from seemingly out of nowhere.
“Later,” Bumi promised, squeezing Iroh’s shoulder before turning to smile at Izumi.
His beautiful wife glided gracefully across the courtyard to greet him, the biggest grin on her face. She reached him in short order, their kids stepping aside to let Izumi throw her arms around him, with the sweetest kiss.
Izumi was skilled at somewhat-literally sweeping him off his feet, and now was no exception, the force of her causing him to stumble back as he reached up to hug her, cradling her close.
But pain still pulsed steadily through his calf, and Bumi must’ve winced, because Izumi pulled back and frowned at him. “Bumi, what—?”
“His leg, Mom,” Iroh spoke up, frowning.
Izumi looked down at Bumi’s calf and gasped. The injury was now bleeding around the knife, the color turning. The sight of it brought all the pain rushing back at once, and Bumi gasped, stumbling and nearly falling over but for Izumi’s quick reflexes. His vision swam in and out, pain clouding it.
“...wrong with Daddy?” The panic in Mizuki’s voice nearly broke Bumi’s heart.
“...be fine, Zuki,” Iroh promised, though Bumi could hear the worry in his voice too.
“Iroh,” Izumi spoke up sharply, “go fetch your Gran-Gran right now.”
The next few hours were a blur, a series of shouts and cries and steady “He’ll be all right”s…and truthfully, Bumi knew very little until he woke to see his wife and mother both sitting by his bedside. Katara was fast asleep, while Izumi stroked his calf with worry lines that seemed to etch deeper in her forehead by the day.
“Zooms?” He blurted.
Izumi startled, but only minutely. “Evening, Bumi. You gave us all quite a scare earlier.”
Bumi winced. “I’m sorry. I didn’t…”
Izumi looked over at him, her eyes warring with anger and worry. “What happened?”
“Recon mission for the United Forces.”
Her mouth twisted. “The New Ozai Society again?”
“Of course.”
She sighed. “Why on Earth they have to keep sending you on those missions…”
“It’s nothing I can’t handle, Zooms. I promise—”
“It’s infected, Bumi,” Izumi interrupted, frowning. “That injury of yours.”
“No way,” he said. “It’s from a throwing knife, it hasn’t even been long, there’s no way—”
“Maybe when you kept fighting, that’s when it got worse. And when you traveled, hugged the kids, and me…” She sighed. “Bumi, be honest with me. Were you going to tell anyone about this?”
“Of course!” At the disbelieving look, he winced. “Okay…no, I wasn’t. I was gonna greet all of you, spend some time with you, stitch myself up, and sleep it off.”
“Bumi!” Izumi cried. “That’s not—”
“It’s just a small injury, Zooms! I can take care of myself—I’m not—I’m not helpless! I’m not a b—” Burden, he didn’t say.
Izumi’s eyes softened, and Bumi knew she heard what he wasn’t saying. “Bumi,” she said firmly, squeezing his hand, “listen to me. You are my husband, my best friend, the love of my life, the father of my children. And hear me when I say that you are not a burden, or helpless or any of that. You’re family, and you know what we do with family?”
“We take care of them,” Bumi murmured, recalling his parents’ words from years ago, and Izumi nodded.
“That’s right. So next time something like this happens…tell me, okay?” She smiled sadly. “I want to help you, Boom. We all do.”
“I’m sorry, Zooms. I didn’t mean to make you worry.”
She leaned forward to rest her forehead on his. “Just don’t do it again.”
“Never,” He promised. “I love you too much.”
He felt her smile. “I love you too, you lovable idiot.”