── 𝒓𝒖𝒍𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒇 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕.

[ 006 ] HER DEEP ANGUISH
❝I needed you. But you weren't there.❞

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

 AFTER GETTING THE BROTHERS back to their place, Sanyu insisted on accompanying Korra to Air Temple Island to make sure she would be safe.

 The moon hung high in the sky that night, its light so bright that it seemed to fill the entire world with a soft glow. Sanyu couldn't help but stare at it, mesmerized. Positioned atop the hill, near the tower, it was an unforgettable sight. As a child, she had always dreamed of visiting the moon, hoping one day she would meet the selfless and kind woman who had sacrificed herself to protect her people.

 For a brief moment, the beauty of the moon distracted her from everything else, including the horrifying memory of Amon permanently stripping someone of their bending. But despite the peaceful sight before her, Sanyu couldn't escape the overwhelming sense of fear that crept over her. It was a feeling she knew all too well, one that always dragged her back to that agonizing night she desperately tried to forget.

 Her breath caught in her throat, and her heart raced as the memory of Zaheer's cold, ruthless face flashed in her mind. It felt as if the memory had come alive.

 Instinctively, her hand moved to clutch her chest, her fingers pressing against her ribs, trying to calm the frantic pounding of her heart. The memory hit her with the same cruel force she had felt when Amon took away bending──this time, it felt like Zaheer had tried to take her life that night. Every part of her body screamed with fear, as if the danger was still there, just waiting to strike again.

 Sanyu clenched her fists, desperately trying to ground herself in the present, but the memories clung to her like a thick fog. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and a cold shiver crawled down her spine. The air around her felt heavy, suffocating, as if she couldn't breathe.

 In that moment, it wasn't just a memory. It was as if she were reliving the nightmare, unable to escape from it. Zaheer's chilling laughter rang in her ears, each mocking chuckle more haunting than the last, sending waves of dread through her as she remembered every cruel moment.

 Korra, sensing something was wrong from the rapid rise and fall of Sanyu's chest, turned to look at her. She noticed the way Sanyu's fists were clenched tightly, her knuckles turning white.

 "Sanyu, are you okay...?" Korra started, but before she could finish, Tenzin interrupted.

 "Thank goodness!" Tenzin hurried toward them, flanked by two White Lotus sentries. Relief flooded his face as he approached. "I was just about to send out a search party. Are you two alright?"

 Korra nodded, but her attention remained on Sanyu, who hadn't made eye contact with anyone since they arrived. The officer's erratic breathing didn't go unnoticed by Tenzin, who immediately recognized the signs of a panic attack. His expression was filled with concern as he stepped closer.

 "Are you alright, dear?" he asked, reaching a hand toward her shoulder.

 But as soon as he moved, Sanyu jerked back as if his touch burned, swatting his hand away. Her voice was cold, almost venomous, as she fumed. "I'm fine. You don't need to worry about me." She turned abruptly, walking away. "I'm leaving."

 Tenzin's hand caught hers, stopping her in her tracks. Her eyes widened in shock. He had never done this before. He had always kept his distance, respecting the wall she had built between them──or maybe just too afraid to cross it.

 "Don't touch me!" she snarled, yanking her hand away. Her voice rose with both anger and something deeper, rawer. Her eyes blazed with fury as she stared him down.

 But Tenzin didn't let go. Instead, his eyes searched hers. "Something happened, didn't it?" he asked. Then, he turned his gaze toward Korra, still holding Sanyu's wrist. "What happened?"

 Korra hesitated. She looked away, avoiding his piercing stare. "We were at an Equalist rally," she admitted quietly. "We saw Amon. He can take people's bending away. Permanently."

 Tenzin stiffened. "That's... impossible. Only the Avatar has ever──"

 "I saw him do it," Korra interrupted. She was insistent in trying to make him believe her. "We both saw him do it."

 A heavy silence hung in the air. Tenzin's grip on Sanyu's wrist loosened slightly, though he didn't entirely let go. 

 Tenzin took a breath, calming himself. "I believe you. I don't know how Amon has achieved this power, but it means the revolution is more dangerous than ever. No bender is safe."

 Sanyu yanked her hand free at last. "You got what you wanted, didn't you?" she snapped with suppressed fury. "So now I'm leaving."

 "You're not going anywhere," Tenzin said firmly. There was no anger in his tone, but there was no room for argument either. "Not until you tell me what's wrong."

 And there it was. That familiar demand, that feigned concern. It was the last straw.

 "What's wrong?" Sanyu raged as she turned back to him, her fists clenched at her sides. Her eyes were wild with anger, her entire body shook. "Now you care? Now you want to know what's wrong? After all these years of ignoring me? Of pretending I don't exist unless I'm convenient for you?"

 Tenzin opened his mouth to respond, but she didn't let him.

 "Save it!" she spat. "You don't get to play the concerned father now. Not after you left me to fend for myself. Not after you chose your duty, your precious balance, over your other family. Over Mom──over me."

 The silence that followed was deafening. Even the sentries averted their eyes, shifting uncomfortably, unsure of what to do other than watch.

 Sanyu's voice dropped to a low, venomous hiss, her face contorted with pure rage. "You don't get to demand anything from me. Not anymore."

 With that, she spun on her heel and stormed away, leaving Tenzin rooted in stunned silence and Korra frozen in place, torn between chasing after her friend or staying to face the storm brewing behind Tenzin's deceptively composed exterior.

 Sanyu yanked her glider from her back as she prepared to leave. Her father's voice rang out behind her, calling her name, his heavy footsteps pounding against the ground in pursuit. But the fire of her anger burned too hot, consuming everything in its path, including the sound of his desperate pleas.

 "Sanyu! Please! Just──wait!"

 She didn't care. Not this time. She didn't even look back.

 But when she finally did──exhausted by how much he was still chasing after her, still trying to fix something irreparably broken, fury clawing at her chest──she snapped, yelling at him to go away. Her raw, unchecked emotions surged, and with them, her airbending exploded in a powerful blast, sending Tenzin crashing backward into Korra and the sentries.

 Sanyu's breath hitched, her eyes wide with horror at the power she'd unleashed. Guilt flared within her, but it was quickly swallowed by the furious storm raging inside her. She didn't care──she couldn't care.

 Without a second thought, she launched herself into the sky, the wind carrying her higher and farther away. She didn't even notice the tears streaming down her face or the way her chest ached with every breath.

 Korra pushed herself off the ground, away from Tenzin and the sentries, scrambling to her feet as quickly as she could. Panic flashed in her eyes as she sprinted after Sanyu.

 She called out desperately. "Sanyu! Officer Sanyu Beifong!"

 But Sanyu was already gone, swallowed by the darkness of the night. Still, Korra couldn't stop herself; she ran after her, even though deep down she knew it was probably too late.

 Above, Sanyu soared through the night sky, the cool wind biting at her skin. Her mind churned with memories of everything her father had failed to do──the birthdays he'd missed since she was six, his absence at her graduation, the silence when she'd longed for his praise, his recognition, his love. He had never been there. And now, she didn't know how to forgive him.

 Tears blurred her vision, but Sanyu blinked them away furiously. She didn't want to seem weak, even to herself. She bit her bottom lip, trying to stifle the sobs that rose in her chest. She didn't know where to go, or where to stay. Going home wasn't an option──she knew her mother would question her, press her for answers, ask why she was crying as if it were an interrogation. She couldn't handle that. She couldn't handle any of it.

 A thought crossed her mind that she could just disappear, fly off somewhere, anywhere. She could go to Iroh, seek his comfort like she always did. But even that thought made her feel guilty, like she was using him. She wasn't, not really, but deep down, she knew a part of her was reaching out to him because it felt like he could fill the emptiness her father had left behind, the emptiness he had never been able to fill with love. And that thought──thinking of using someone like that──only made her sob harder.

 Sanyu no longer knew where she was headed. But it didn't matter. She wasn't even sure she cared anymore.

 The next thing she knew, she was on her knees. Her glider lay discarded a few paces away, still partially open, but she couldn't muster the energy to care. Her chest heaved as uncontrollable sobs tore through her. Each tear felt like a piece of her heart breaking off, her grief spilling out for everything she'd lost, everything she'd endured, and everything she couldn't begin to understand.

 And she wished she could disappear, just vanish from existence. Maybe it would have been easier if Zaheer had killed her. Maybe that would have hurt less than the pain she now carried inside her.

 "Why is this happening to me, Grandpa?" she choked out, her voice barely audible over her sobs. She raised her gaze to the towering statue of Aang, carved immaculately in stone. His calm and serene, wise face stared back at her while her world lay in ruins.

 "Answer me!" she screamed with anguish. But she didn't look away. She couldn't. She needed him to speak, to tell her why her life had become so unbearable. But the statue remained silent, just like everything else in her life.

 The air around her began to stir, picking up speed until it swirled into a violent vortex that mirrored the storm raging inside her. It whipped around her, a small tornado of anger and despair. For a fleeting second, she thought it might consume her entirely.

 Then everything broke free. She screamed──a guttural, soul-wrenching cry that tore through the night like a raw wound laid bare. All her pain, her rage, her sorrow──every emotion she had suppressed exploded in that single sound.

 The wind exploded in response, erupting outward in a powerful surge. It howled across the landscape, ripping through the air and sending shockwaves across the sea. The sky itself seemed to shake beneath the force of her emotions, as if the world had no choice but to acknowledge her pain.

 Sanyu couldn't remember much of what happened next. After the night she almost lost her life, it was hard for her to remember anything at all. It was all a blur, like trying to hold onto smoke. The trauma made it hard for her to keep memories, especially the painful ones. She didn't want to remember, anyway.

 Even after everything, Sanyu didn't truly understand the danger of her airbending if she let it spiral out of control. She didn't care much, either. All she knew was that airbending had become the only way to express the feelings she couldn't put into words.

 But there was one memory she couldn't forget, no matter how hazy the rest was. Someone wearing blue reached for her through the raging tornado that spun violently around her small body. Their hands pushed through it as if nothing in the world could stop them. It was as though they believed she was worth saving──worth the risk, worth the effort.

 Those hands, so warm and gentle, wrapped around her, pulling her away from hell. For the first time in what felt like forever, Sanyu felt something other than fear. Comfort. Protection.

 She fell into their embrace, her body pressed against the stranger's chest, and suddenly the world went quiet. Not just quiet──deadly quiet. The storm was gone, its roar replaced by the sound of her own sobs.

 And so, she cried. She cried for the fear she had felt, for the pain she couldn't understand, and for the relief of finally being held. She cried into the night, into the arms of someone who had reached into the storm and pulled her back.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

 THE FIRST THING SANYU saw the next morning was Korra's smiling face, so close it startled her awake. She jolted back instinctively, her heart skipping a beat, even though her eyes still felt heavy with sleep. Blinking slowly, she glanced around, confused. She didn't even remember how she'd ended up in her room.

 Did someone carry her here? What had happened?

 "Good morning, officer!" Korra said cheerfully. She was as bright as the sunlight streaming through the window. She held a tray with a bowl of salad and a glass of water. "Come on, get up and eat! You need your energy!"

 Before Sanyu could process anything, Korra plopped herself down on the edge of the bed, still beaming. Sanyu frowned, her mind racing as memories of the previous night flickered through her head. She tried to piece it together──vague images of someone dressed in blue, the feeling of being held, and the warmth that seemed to wrap around her. It all felt too familiar.

 Her gaze drifted to Korra, and she couldn't stop the memory of the stranger's piercing blue eyes from creeping back into her mind──the same eyes she now saw staring back at her. Those eyes, so familiar and intense, had been etched into her thoughts since last night.

 It couldn't have been Korra, could it? No, that didn't make sense. There was no way Korra would go out of her way for her, not after all the times Sanyu had brushed her off or had given her the cold shoulder. Korra wasn't the kind of person to waste her time on someone like her──or at least, that's what Sanyu kept telling herself.

 And yet, the doubt lingered. What if it had been Korra? What if she had cared, even just a little?

 Without even realizing it, Sanyu found herself moving closer to the Avatar while her mind raced. She didn't know what she was doing──whether she was seeking answers or just trying to feel the warmth of Korra's presence. All she knew was that she couldn't stop herself.

 "You... last night..." Sanyu murmured. Her hand moved almost without her realizing it, reaching out until her fingers brushed against Korra's. Her thumb traced small circles over Korra's skin, a gesture so tender it surprised even her.

 Korra's expression shifted. Her radiant smile dimmed, replaced by a gentler look as her eyes searched Sanyu's face curiously. "Last night?" she repeated.

 Sanyu blinked, realizing what she was doing. A rush of heat spread across her cheeks, and she quickly pulled her hand back. "Uh, sorry," she mumbled, turning her gaze to the window. She was trying to hide her embarrassment.

 Korra chuckled. "It's okay," she said, her cheerful tone returning, though there was still a hint of that understanding in her voice. She smiled at Sanyu as she set the tray on her lap and stood up. "I'm heading out for pro-bending training after this. So, see you later! And eat up, okay?"

 Sanyu nodded, watching as Korra waved and walked out of the room.

 Once the door clicked shut, Sanyu looked down at the tray in her lap. It was simple──just a fruit salad and a glass of water. She stared at it for a moment, her thoughts drifting. Korra must have made it for her. It didn't seem like something Pema would put together; Sanyu figured Pema would have gone all out with a grand meal to make her feel welcome.

 Still, the small effort warmed her heart. Sanyu picked up the fork and took a bite, the sweetness of the fruit bringing a faint smile to her lips. It wasn't much, but it was enough. She felt grateful──not just for the food, but for Korra's thoughtfulness.

 As she ate, she couldn't help but replay the moment in her mind──her hand brushing against Korra's, the way Korra had looked at her. Her heart felt strangely full and heavy at the same time, as though it couldn't quite decide what it wanted to feel.

 It had been years since Sanyu last stayed at Air Temple Island. The last time was when she was just four years old, on the day her parents' world──and hers──shifted forever. That was the day Tenzin asked Lin for a divorce.

 Even as a child, Sanyu could feel her mother's distraught. She remembered the way her mother's anger shook the island, almost like an earthquake. The ground shook as Lin stormed through the temple grounds. Little Sanyu ran after her, confused and scared, searching for her parents.

 She finally found them in a quiet courtyard. Lin was crying──really crying──in a way Sanyu had never seen before. Tenzin stood nearby, his face lined with guilt. When Lin shoved him away, Sanyu clutched her small hands together, not understanding what was happening but knowing it was bad.

 "Mommy, what's wrong?" Sanyu had asked, concerned. "Did something happen?"

 Lin didn't answer. She just knelt down, scooped Sanyu into her arms, and held her tightly. Her tears dampened Sanyu's little jacket, but she said nothing, just carried her away.

 That night, Lin took Sanyu back to their small house in Republic City, the one Lin had bought with her first salary as a police officer. It wasn't large or fancy, but it was theirs.

 The last thing Sanyu remembered from that day was the sight of a young woman in Air Acolyte robes stepping out of the temple. The woman embraced Tenzin as Lin walked away. Sanyu didn't know who she was at the time, but now she did. It was Pema.

 Sixteen years later, Sanyu found herself back on the island, staying in her old room. It was like stepping into a time capsule. Nothing had changed. Her childhood drawing of her family still hung on the wall, a little faded but still vibrant with the colors of cheap crayons. It was a kindergarten project: "Draw your loved ones." In it, Sanyu stood in the middle, holding hands with Lin and Tenzin. The lines were crooked, and the colors didn't stay inside the lines, but it captured a moment of hope.

 Her closet still held her old clothes, including a tiny coat that Tenzin had given her for her third birthday. Strangely, they weren't as dusty as she'd expected after so many years. They looked almost fresh, like someone had been taking care of them──washing and folding them regularly.

 On her desk lay her childhood diary, along with neatly arranged stationery. She'd opened the diary before, curious to revisit her younger self's thoughts. But she quickly shut it when she saw the scrawled words: "Y is Mom an Dad alwais faiting?" The spelling mistakes made her cringe, but the question hit her like a punch to the gut.

 Whatever, she thought. It didn't matter anymore. She didn't have to care about it since her parents were divorced. So why bother? And yet, deep down, she still cared──because she knew the cracks of her childhood had shaped her, leaving her angry, guarded, and, as much as she hated to admit it, heartless at times.

 After finishing her breakfast, Sanyu stayed in her room, lost in her thoughts as the hours ticked by. It wasn't until the afternoon that guilt began to creep in. She needed to wash her dishes, go home, take a proper bath, and check in with her mother before things spiraled. Her mom was protective of her, and Sanyu could already imagine her threatening to send out a search party if she stayed away too long.

 With a heavy sigh, she ran her fingers through her messy hair and forced herself to move. Grabbing her tray of empty bowl and glass, she trudged to the door.

 But as soon as she opened it, she froze. Her breath caught in her throat as her father stood there, equally startled.

 For a moment, neither of them spoke. Sanyu's grip faltered, and she nearly dropped the tray she was holding. Her wide eyes darted to the small slips of paper in his hand. They looked like notes, scribbled hastily, like he had been preparing for something.

 A speech? Was he actually planning what to say to her?

 "Da──Tenzin!" she gasped. Her mind reeled at the sight of him standing in front of her. "W-What are you doing here?"

 Tenzin's mouth opened, then closed, as if he couldn't quite find the right words. His normally composed expression wavered, and for the first time, he looked unsure of himself. His hands fidgeted with the notes, but they seemed forgotten, crumpling slightly under his grip.

 Sanyu stared at him, her heart pounding. It wasn't just the shock of seeing him──it was the look in his eyes. He seemed as lost as she felt.

 "Sanyu... I..." Tenzin began, his shoulders tense as his fingers fidgeted. His gaze flickered briefly to the written notes in his hand, but he quickly decided against using them. This wasn't something he could read from a script. It needed to come from his heart. "About last night──"

 Sanyu's initial surprise twisted into a glare, and then into seething anger in the span of a heartbeat. The mention of last night struck a nerve she wasn't ready to face.

 Vulnerability was not something she dealt with easily, and the idea of discussing it──especially with him──made her stomach twist. Tenzin, the man who had barely been a presence in her life, had no right to bring it up now.

 "Just forget it," she snapped, cutting him off mid-sentence. Her words came out sharper than she intended, but she didn't care. She brushed past him, and stomped down the hallway. She didn't need his apology, nor his explanation. Not now, and not ever. He'd been a terrible father, absent when it mattered most. Even if he tried to change now, the damage was already done.

 "Sanyu! Wait!" Tenzin called. He hurried after her, his long strides barely keeping up as she turned sharply toward the kitchen. "Just give me a chance to explain! Please, just this once!"

 "I don't want to hear it!" she shouted over her shoulder, not slowing down.

 "I never wanted to──"

 "Don't you dare say you're sorry!" she growled. She spun around to face him, her eyes blazing with both anger and pain. The winds outside the window howled, mirroring her rage as her words spilled out. "Do you even know how many nights I cried myself to sleep, waiting for you? How many times I begged the Spirits──begged──just to see you one more time? Do you have any idea what it's like to almost die wondering if the man who was supposed to protect you even remembers you exist?"

 Tenzin froze, her words hitting him harder than any physical blow could. His usual calm and composed demeanor faltered, and for the first time, he looked small. His lips parted slightly to speak, but no words came out.

 What could he say to that? What could he possibly offer that would undo years of hurt?

 The silence between them stretched with everything left unsaid. Sanyu's chest rose and fell as she glared at Tenzin.

 She didn't know if she should unleash all the pain she had carried for years right then and there. But since he had started this conversation──since he wanted to talk──then she would talk. She would tell him everything. She would make him understand her pain, the depth of her hurt.

 "I needed you, Tenzin," she said with raw emotion. "That night, when he came for me──when I was sure I wouldn't survive──I needed you. But you weren't there. You were never there."

 Her voice grew colder, as she continued. "Mom was the one who saved me. She was the one who pulled me back when I thought I was gone. And because you couldn't be bothered──because you had better things to do──I've lived every day with this fear of airbending. The one thing that could've made me stronger, that could've saved me, and I was terrified of it."

 Tenzin's face crumpled under her words. His eyes, filled with guilt and sadness, searched hers, but they found no forgiveness. He stared at her, helpless and ashamed.

 "Oh, Sanyu..." he finally whispered.

 His voice was gentle──too gentle. It wasn't what she wanted to hear. It wasn't what she needed to hear. That softness only made her angrier, as if he thought his tone alone could melt her anger, could heal the wounds he had ignored for so long.

 "I didn't need the great Tenzin, leader of the Air Nation," she said, narrowing her eyes. "I needed my dad. My dad. But you were too busy being theirs to even try being mine."

 Sanyu stood there, her words hanging in the air like a stormcloud between them. Tenzin's shoulders sagged, his head dropping slightly as if her words had crushed him completely. He looked as though he might fall to his knees and beg for her forgiveness.

 For a moment, she waited, daring him to say something──anything. Her heart raced, almost hoping he would try, that he would fight for her.

 But he didn't. He stood there, silent and broken, and the emptiness of that silence cut deeper than anything else.

 "That's what I thought," she muttered bitterly.

 She turned without another word as she walked away. Tenzin remained rooted in place, his gaze fixed on her retreating back. He wanted to call out to her, to say something, to make it right──but the words never came.

 And so, Sanyu left, carrying her pain with her, while Tenzin stood there alone, swallowed by the regret he could no longer escape.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

RULER OF HER HEART | ❝You don't like me
the way I like you, don't you?❞