A Voyage Across the Ocean or Merely a Trip Down the River

A brisk chill ran throughout the darkened streets of Bakou—a sleepy, no-name village deep within Ishida and far from Komasu and the chaos plaguing the country's ever-changing borders. Amongst the buildings lining either side of the street, a small, hole in the wall, outdoor sushi restaurant harbored one lonely shinobi and a wandering samurai. Several hours had passed since the attack on Komasu had taken place, and the news had already spread like a wildfire. Bakou was the best place they could think of to drop off the people they'd helped rescue earlier, now refugees of war along with Sozin himself. There wasn't much the two warriors could do beyond getting the people somewhere safe, so they'd left them in the hands of Bakou's constable once they were beyond trouble's grip.

Sushi rolls, sushi rolls... Sozin droned in his head.

Elbow on the counter, the man rested his cheek in the palm of his hand and sighed. A cold emptiness shrouded his face and kept him completely silent. He sat behind the counter amongst a row of empty seats all except for the one woman beside him. Staring at his food, a somber weight seemed to drag down his eyelids as he clumsily fiddled with the pair of chopsticks in his hands. With a few furtive glances to Kira's adept fingers, he occasionally tried to copy her finger movements and eat a few rolls himself, but he struggled to pick them up from the platter of sushi that dared to sit so boldly in front of him. Was he really that hungry anyway? His growling stomach thought so, but it seemed like such a chore to shovel all this food into his mouth. Somehow, he managed to work it out in his head that he was going to at least try and stomach one or two rolls since Kira had bothered to pay for them with her own money and because it would be rude not to do so. By some miracle, the first two rolls managed to get to his mouth in one piece without falling. He chewed slow and long like he just couldn't muster the strength to eat, but then, when he finally finished and went for a third roll and tried to dip it into some soy sauce, his fingers slipped, the roll dropped, and sauce splashed all over his face and clothes.

Sozin's fingers seized up in frustration. His eyes slammed to a violent shut as his head twisted to the side so Kira didn't have to see the anger bursting onto his face. Could at least one thing go right today? He felt like the vein in his head was about to pop from something so trivial, but then he froze, nostrils flaring, and turned back to stare with simmering eyes at the half-submerged sushi roll that he'd dropped without meaning to. He could hear his own angered snorts as they mixed in with the sound of bubbling water coming from the kitchen across the counter. Something so small... It was almost enough to push him over the edge with everything that he's had to process today.

"Can't use chopsticks?" an amused Kira chimed in lightly from beside him.

"No..." Sozin murmured. "Honestly, if I was eating by myself, I would've just used a fork."

"Why don't you? There's no need to be pretentious around me."

"Yeah, well..." Sozin's voice trailed off. He tried a few more pitiful times to pick up the sushi rolls in front of him as Kira watched with dismay. Sozin was about to try again when Kira put a gentle hand on his forearm.

Sozin stopped. He paused for a brief moment before turning to meet Kira's gaze with his own struggling one. Kira nodded silently as if to say that was enough, but Sozin merely gave a glum shrug. That didn't seem to dissuade her from whatever she had been planning to do, because before he could even realize or even stop her, she had already flagged down the single chef manning the kitchen and asked for a fork—not for him, but for herself like she was the one who needed it. She promptly passed Sozin the utensil when the chef wasn't looking.

Sozin's eyes fell upon the silverware that was now in his hands. Something caught inside of him like a match that had finally found a surface to strike up against, and his cold face seemed to warm up, if just a little bit. Of all the things she could've done, he certainly hadn't expected that course of action. "Could've just told him the truth," he said.

With pearly white teeth, Kira flashed Sozin a shameless grin. Her grin eased up into a smile that was almost too perfect and delicate for the world. "There was no need..." she said with a cheeky softness.

Sozin sniffled. "S'pose not..." he said as they exchanged gazes.

The man went back to eating, this time feeling a little more happier and less annoyed than before.

Kira's brows crinkled in amusement as she thought about something. She cast Sozin a sideways glance before turning back to her own food. "How is it that a man like you is capable of wielding a blade—albeit, pretty badly if I can be so bold as to say that—but not a pair of chopsticks?"

"Isn't it a little late to try and be polite?" Sozin murmured with a slight smile. "I believe the word you used earlier was 'atrocious'."

"I remember," Kira said. "But my question still stands..."

The humor tinging Sozin's weary face vanished as his eyes creased in pensive consideration. He mindlessly traced a knot in the wood of the counter with his finger. "I don't know..." he sighed. "Guess I just never learned. You might say I've missed a lot of milestones in my life."

"Hm..." Kira hummed. A pang of sadness chilled her heart. She wasn't quite sure what he meant by that, but she could infer a little better than most.

Sozin seemed to zone out in that moment. He examined the pronged piece of silver in his hand, running his thumb along the handle as eyes glazed over from looking at the lustrous metal. Forks weren't exactly traditional, but a lot of things weren't these days. They were just another one of the many inventions that had come from across the southern seas to Miura along with railroads, guns, artillery, and many other things. The designs and their ingenuity were revolutionizing Miura, and it was beginning to bring the enormous continent into a more modern age from an unexpected place.

Not everyone was a fan of how technology was changing the world. Many traditionalists across the continent took issue with the idea of swapping out the old ways in favor of new and perverse Southern ideas. How could one replace a refined and elegant weapon like the katana with something as uncouth as the matchlock? For some traditionalists, the mere suggestion of such ideas was considered to be heresy. Some traditionalists even thought all of it was a plot by the southern countries to destroy Miuran culture from within so that they could eventually take over with little cultural resistance. Meanwhile, the reformists were embracing this plethora of change with open arms, considering it to be a form of empowerment. As for Sozin himself, he was neither a traditionalist nor a reformist and refused to see things in such black and white terms. To him, the answer mostly depended on what exactly the technology would mean for the state of the world. He could consider himself a traditionalist, but it wasn't so much about taking a side as much as it was about preventing suffering on the scale that these inventions so easily allowed. In fact, he usually liked technology, change, and new things as long as they resulted in something good, but for someone like him, he couldn't help but hate how much power one could wield at their fingertips simply by picking up a gun and pointing it at someone.

With that thought in mind, it was hard to be entirely happy about these new inventions. New was not always better, not in an era like this and not with a species that had a penchant for war. Everywhere Sozin looked, he could see that man, tribal and aggressive, was always searching for a much darker power in anything that he possessed, always looking for another way to get the edge on his enemies and those who might oppose him. It was a sad state of affairs. Rather than using gunpowder to make fireworks and spread joy throughout the land, men chose to focus on creating weapons and tools of mass destruction like cannons and gatling guns. Rather than using railroads to transport goods and foster a world of interconnectivity, they chose to purpose them for moving their armies around and anything that they might need to wreak havoc. Rather than using telegraphs to bring people together, they chose to use them for coordinating the war effort in conquering their neighbors. How could things be this way?

War just seemed to be a natural consequence of who they were as a species, and Sozin hated that. Entire cities were living in fear of destruction because of the inventions that man had come up with. It used to be the case that war was a lot harder and a lot less destructive to wage, but now things were frightfully easy. Any schmuck with a gun could do it if he wanted to instead of training for years and years to become a warrior. In this age of conflict, Sozin felt especially bad for villagers and people living in towns. They often wished for so little—nothing more than to live small lives in small places—but war scarcely granted such a mercy.

The war with Tamura had displaced many people and Sozin was one of them now. Ishidan citizens were suffering beyond belief. He knew exactly what it was like. It was clear to him that Ishida had made the wrong choice in choosing to remain traditionalist as they were now losing the war badly because of it. Given how simple it was to operate a matchlock compared to any traditional weapon, Tamura could field new armies in a matter of weeks at a rate that Ishida simply couldn't match in the long run.

Sozin rested a stressful hand on his forehead. Feeling himself begin to wither on the inside from thinking about all of this, he ran it up through the black of his hair. He worried for the people in his country. The anger was beginning to boil inside him again. Why did he bother himself with these problems? It wasn't like there was much he could do about them anyway, was there? He hated this hideous war the Tamurans had thrust upon Ishida and the incompetence of Ishida's leaders for failing to stop it in its tracks. Never in his life did he think he'd be homeless again. Never in his life did he think he'd be back to square one because of something outside his control.

He hated when things were outside of his control. He hated so many damn things.

"Are you going to finish your food?" Kira asked, noticing the man had stopped eating.

Sozin turned his head in confusion. "Sorry, what was that?" he said, having been lost in his thoughts again for the umpteenth time. He kept forgetting that Kira was there even though she was the only reason he was eating at this restaurant in the first place. She'd decided to pay for his meal seeing as he didn't have any money anymore or anything else on his person besides his sword, really. It was a nice little thing that she'd insisted on—her way of thanking him for deciding to help out in Komasu. If Sozin hadn't been there with his second horse, she knew she wouldn't have been able to use the wagon to save as many as they did and probably wouldn't have thought of the idea anyway.

"Your food. Are you gonna finish it?" Kira repeated. She had finished her platter already and was in the middle of lighting the wad of marijuana at the end of her pipe with the tip of her index finger. She pressed the heated finger onto the top of the wad as her thumb nestled underneath the end of the pipe, trying to get it to burn.

"Oh, yeah, yeah," Sozin quickly started. "I am, I was just... thinking..."

"About what?" The flame seemed to finally catch in Kira's pipe. It lit up into a small, sizzling blaze, and she took a puff.

"Nothing, really. I just never expected I would end up homeless again."

"Again? This isn't the first time?"

Sozin stared with brooding eyes into the depths of his food. Their conversation lapsed into a short but heavy silence before he decided to speak up. "No, unfortunately not..."

"So what are you going to do now?" she asked.

"I'm not sure. Back to square one, I guess..." Sozin said. "What about you? Don't you have a home to go back to? Or a family?"

"Me? No..." Kira said like that question couldn't possibly be directed at her. "I'm an orphan. I haven't had any of that in a long time."

"Really?" Sozin's face perked up in surprise.

"Yep..." Kira said. "I know a little of what it's like to be homeless—to have everything just torn from your hands without warning. I can only imagine that what you're going through doesn't feel too good right now."

"It's not really the home that mattered to me so much as what was in it," Sozin said. "The home I can replace, but my shinobi gear... my master passed his down to me before he died and it was in there along with our only picture together. Without those things, I feel like I've lost part of my identity."

"I can understand that," Kira said as she was reminded of her family. "Someone really needs to put an end to this war. It's been dragging on for far too long..." Kira's eyes grazed the counter in reminiscence. "When I was little, I used to live along the border of what's now Tamura—farming country—so my parents were killed at the start."

"Didn't know they went after farmers," Sozin said. "Seems a bit excessive."

"If you think about it, an army marches on its stomach. Back then, they didn't want us feeding the Ishidan military with our crops," Kira said. "I was young, so I don't really remember much of what happened except for running away and hiding as my parents got slaughtered by soldiers."

"That's... tough. Sorry to hear that," Sozin said. He wasn't sure what else to say even though he wished he could say more.

"It's not your fault. You don't need to be sorry," Kira assured him. She gripped a bottle of alcohol that was sitting on the counter and took a long swig before setting it back down with a smack. "It's in the past anyway."

Sozin stared in astonishment. "How can you drink like that? You've had several of those already."

Kira let a slump develop in her posture. She eased into the hard wood of her stool chair as the marijuana and alcohol began to take effect together. "Drinking is easy when you have a reason to do it. It helps me get through the day and loosens up the muscles. There's nothing quite like drowning out your sorrows."

Sozin sucked on his lip for a moment, thinking about that statement in a much deeper light. "That's why you smoke too, isn't it? It's not just something you do."

Kira nodded with guilt, giving him a regretful "yeah" expression. "Guilty as charged..."

Sozin ate a little more, slowly enjoying his food. Their conversation had fallen into relative silence again, interspersed only with the sound of Kira smoking or taking another gulp of alcohol until Sozin turned to the woman. "Kira..." he uttered.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for the meal," he added, quite seriously.

"Of course," Kira said.

"No, really," Sozin continued. "To be honest, I'm a little surprised..."

"Why's that?"

"I don't know..." Sozin said. "Maybe it's because you have no idea how unusual this is for me—sitting down and actually... talking to someone else for once. I haven't had a meal with someone other than Wolf in a long time."

Kira's eyes seemed to lull into some sort of sad reminiscence. "I know exactly what you mean..."

"Do you?"

"I do..." Kira said. "There used to be a time where regular people would've never given me the time of day."

"A pretty woman like you?" Sozin scoffed and glanced away. "I have a hard time believing that."

Kira sat up straight with attention. Her eyes perked up and she crossed her arms onto the counter. "You don't know much about me then," she shot back like he shouldn't be lumping her into any categories.

"Should I?"

"Perhaps... But I don't think you would understand."

"Are you sure?" Sozin asked. "I'm a pretty good listener. Understanding isn't the hard part for me—it's agreeing that's the challenge."

Painful memories bubbled to the surface that wanted to rip past the seams of Kira's dignified expression. They were nothing more than a slight on her face, hardly noticeable if it were not for Sozin's attentive eyes. "Well, if you're going to know anything about me, then you should know that I didn't always have this... face..."she said with a frown. She gestured at the beautiful mask she wore everyday with her hand, having spoke as though it was the permanent reminder of something terrible.

Kira took a puff from the pipe resting between her two graceful fingers. Her eyes seemed to zone in on something. She blew a long and thoughtful stream of smoke as the emotions starting to run through her veins brought her back.

o - o - o - o - o

Love...

Warmth...

Compassion...

Some things were only meant for certain people.

Being stuck on her family's farm with no one else around but her doting parents had blinded her to that reality. It wasn't until she lost her family that Kira realized just how important it was to have one around and how blindingly comfortable it could be at times. Sometimes, in her lowest moments, she would find herself desiring something like that more than anything else in the world. The orphanage had given her no shortage of those moments, and she often wondered if it really was better than staying out on the streets by herself.

When she was a young girl, she used to think that people treated her bad because of something she was doing. She used to believe what they told her. That, maybe, it was something she said, or how she acted, or even just how she looked at someone that was causing her problems with others, but she was just being herself. She knew that and didn't get it. Was being herself not a good thing? It was always what they said to do. Was she just an inherently bad person? She didn't think she was, but they all treated her like one anyway. She had even started to believe it.

She was so foolish back then.

Even though she didn't realize what the problem was in the beginning, she began to as time went on. It became so obvious to her in retrospect why the other kids were getting adopted but not her. She wasn't like all the cute little children and handsome boys or beautiful girls. She was a freak. An aberration that didn't deserve to and shouldn't exist. The girls, they always thought they were too good for her to hang out with them. And the boys, well, the boys wouldn't even bother talking to a girl like her unless they had to. She was just there to watch all of them get their happy ending while she stayed behind. They all treated her like she was a monster for even daring to exist. They shunned her. Why would anyone waste their time and effort on someone ugly after all? It's not like she was an actual person with feelings.

Budding parents that came to visit the orphanage—the supposed adults—they were no different than the children that she was stuck with day in and day out. Why would someone ever adopt a child they didn't actually want to call their own?

"What about Kira?" they would say to the budding parents.

"Oh, her..." a man muttered, trying to hide his disdain. "Isn't she a little...?"

It was hard to look up to anyone older than her after that. When she became an adult herself, the problem was still there just in a different and bitterly sweet way. The superficialness never seemed to get any better like she had hoped it would—it was just thrown under a rug of politeness and civility, the very glue that held society's nastier parts all together into one big mess that somehow managed to work. There was no true maturity to be found, and if there was, it was few and far between. In a way, children never really matured as much as they just grew up into adults and put on a veil of courtesy, and even then, it wasn't always there.

These thoughts began to get tiresome. Every day the adults would come and it was always the same thing. The same filthy look they all gave her but never really spoke about. It began to drive her brink of sanity. She had no control over how she looked. Why would anyone hate her for something she couldn't control? She simply couldn't understand that. It was an irrational response to an irrational thing about the world. An unfair thing.

She could always remember looking the mirror and seeing her gangly self, clutching her hair, almost ripping it out from how miserable it was making her. Ugly and disproportioned with a boyish frame for her age. She was disgusted with what she saw. What had she done to deserve this? She would go at night, to the bathroom, when all the children were asleep and there was no one to disturb her gawking or hear the muffled sobbing that she would often dissolve into. Sometimes she would even take a knife she'd snuck out of the mess hall, determined to cut the acne, a blight on her face, out from under her skin, thinking that maybe, just maybe, she could carve out a better life. Girls were supposed to be pretty after all and boys handsome. She never could do it though no matter how many times she brought that knife with her in the palm of her slender hand. She was always too scared to try.

Kira shook her head as she spoke to Sozin. Her gaze fell to the side. She didn't know why she was telling him all these things about her and how she thought about the world, or if he even agreed, but she was anyway. It was cathartic—the first time she had ever spoken about her past to anyone other than her spirit animal, Vixen—but at the same time, it was also scary. She wasn't sure whether to take his silence as a good thing or not, but he seemed to be thinking on what she was telling him. Perhaps what she was seeing in his eyes was a flicker of understanding or maybe just a false glimmer of hope. Whichever it was, for some reason, she still kept going and revealed to the man even more than she'd planned to.

o - o - o - o - o

"Eventually, I grew into my skin, but in the end..." Kira wiped the corner of her watery eyes with a lone finger. The dignified pretense withered away into something more vulnerable. She swallowed, letting out a huff from the back of her nose as she tried not to cry. Her voice nearly broke apart, quavering in spirit-crushing anguish, but she kept herself together. "I suppose I'm just an ugly girl in a pretty woman's body."

Kira's eyes were red and puffy. She stared at the counter, not wanting to look or even glance at the man next to her. He wasn't saying anything, so what was he thinking? Why had she chosen to say this much? It seemed her words had gotten out of reach before she knew what was happening. She was about to get up and leave, too mortified and uncomfortable to continue sitting there in the silence any longer, but before she could fully stand, Sozin gripped her slender forearm, pinning it to the counter.

The hand of Kira's trapped arm balled into a tight fist. She craned her head in anger. "What?" she exclaimed in a low voice. "Are you finally going to say... something?"

"If you'll let me..." Sozin said. He felt the taut muscles in her forearm loosen up and took that as a sign to continue as she sat back into her seat. "I should say this..." He let go of her forearm and leaned back. "I'm not really good with people, but for what it's worth... I'm sorry. It seems I misjudged you." Sozin knew she hadn't been lying. Her emotions were too raw for that.

"Everyone makes that mistake," Kira seethed. "All anyone has ever seen is my face."

"Well, I'm trying not to be like everyone else," Sozin said.

Kira snorted. Her tensions seemed to ease up a little bit more as soon as she heard that. "I can see that..." she said.

"I should thank you as well."

"For what exactly?"

"For giving me some perspective."

Their eyes met, and they exchanged a precarious gaze. Kira was unsure of what the man's intentions were with his rhetoric but didn't sense anything wrong. It seemed like he was genuinely sorry for his mistake. "Sure..." she said, feeling herself finally relax under his insistent coaxing. "You're a very unusual man."

"In a good way or bad way?" Sozin asked.

Kira shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm not sure yet, but I can tell a lot about you already."

"Yeah?" Sozin grinned. "Like what?"

"Good question..." Kira replied with intrigued eyes. "What kind of man do you think you might be, Sozin Daihachi?"

"That's a tough one," Sozin admitted. "Still trying to figure that out for myself, honestly. Maybe you should ask the government. I'm basically an enemy of the state to them."

"I remember reading about you in the news years ago, but you don't seem as bad as they made you out to be. You're a good listener. Besides, I think I already know what kind of person you are," Kira said.

"Try me..." Sozin dared with quiet intensity.

"I can see it in your eyes..." Kira leaned to the side, giving Sozin an inspective look. Getting close to him and scrunching her brows in solemn scrutiny, she planted a steadying hand on Sozin's cheek and then peered into his eyes like they were some sort of crystal ball, as though she was analyzing the very fabric of his being. She moved her head around, trying to get different points of view. "Yes... There it is..." Kira said softly, running her thumb back and forth along his cheek once she had found it. "You know, you act tough now, but you were a very meek boy when you were younger, weren't you?" She took a deep breath, looking into him further. "You're a corrupted man. I can tell the world grinded that out of you. That's a shame. A real pity..."

Sozin felt like he was going to shrink under the woman's gaze. Her hand kept him in place. He froze, staring back at her as he felt a sinister chill go up his neck. The hairs on it stood on end like someone had shined a torch on him. The words required to speak escaped his lips. He was hardly breathing. Someone had broken past his ruse, and it showed on his face. Stunned silence mixed in with the weakening of his features. For a split second, he was vulnerable like he had made her—for the first time in a long time—and his eyes seemed to quiver. His entire body wanted to shrivel up and hide in the face of her revealing light. The smirk lining her mouth told him she had calculated this reaction as some sort of sly vengeance.

Reaching over slowly, Sozin gripped her wrist tightly within his callused palm and calmly removed her hand from his face. There was no anger in his movements. Only shock.

"You're just saying that," he murmured.

"Am I?" Kira pulled away. "That is the question."

A little intimidated, Sozin asked with a deceptively confident grin, "Did you see my soul or something from that angle? What sort of witchery was that?"

Kira laughed, shaking her head. "Witchery? That was just theatrics. People are like books, Sozin. The more you keep reading, the more it all starts to come together," she said like it was so obvious and easy to understand.

"Like books, you say..." Sozin said with tentative lips. "So, am I an open or closed book?"

"Which do you want to be?" Kira inquired with a mysterious, almost devilish flare in her eyes.

"Oh, closed, for sure."

"You're in luck then," Kira remarked. "Because that's what you are. But don't get so comfortable—the pages are peeking out just enough for someone like me to piece things together."

Sozin wondered if he was simply an easy person to know or if the woman just had a knack for reading people. He'd never pegged himself as a particularly transparent person. He always thought that was part of the reason why it was so hard for him to get close to anyone.

"Was it as easy as you make it sound?" Sozin asked.

"No," Kira told him. "Technically, I didn't know for sure until your reaction confirmed everything just now. They were just inferences until then. Well-calculated ones at that."

"That's impressive," Sozin said. "Even I'm not that good at figuring out people. I bet you'd make a good psychologist."

"Maybe in another life. I prefer not to deal with others," Kira said.

"That makes two of us," Sozin said. He paused, thinking of something else he wanted to say to her. "Hey, uh... Since were here, can I ask you something?"

"Anything," Kira said, feeling comfortable.

"How long are you going to stay in Bakou?"

"I'll probably be gone by tomorrow. I never stay anywhere for long—a few months at most if I've taken an interest in a place, but that's it."

"I think I'm going to do the same," Sozin said. "I'm going to head back to Komasu tomorrow morning and see if I can salvage anything from my manor. The Tamuran army should be gone by then."

"But your manor burnt down," Kira said. "What are you hoping to find? It's all ash and rubble now."

"The house itself might be ash, but gold doesn't burn," Sozin smirked. "I had a... minor... stash of coin in a chest. It should still be there and should be just enough to get me what I need for what I'm planning. I'm going to find it, get myself some new gear, and then leave for Tamura. After hearing your story just now and what you said about someone needing to end the war, I've decided I'm going to do it myself. It's gotten personal, and Ishida's leadership and military is just too incompetent to let them handle this themselves."

"For one man, those are pretty big ambitions," Kira said. "How can you expect to end the war all by yourself? It's been going on for decades. If you ask me, for one man, I think you're being a tad optimistic."

Sozin chuckled and his lips curved into an arrogant grin."That's the first time I've ever been accused of optimism." He threw his hands out. "Who knows? Maybe one man is all it takes... I suppose my ambitions might be getting ahead of me, but no one has ever done anything great by dreaming small. All I need to do is cut off the head of their operations, and Tamura's entire war effort will come to a crumbling halt. It might take a while, but unfortunately for Tamura, their army just cleared my calender for me."

"Are you open to having some company?" Kira asked. "What if I tagged along with you?"

"You want to come with me to Tamura?" Sozin said in surprise. "We'll have to cross the border."

"I don't see why not," Kira said. "It'd be good for me if I wasn't in Ishida for the time being since I have Takeda's men chasing after me."

"Oh, yeah. You have that problem... that you're, ah... dealing with..." Sozin gestured awkwardly at her with his hand.

"I suppose it can't be helped that I don't have the money to pay your fee," Kira said, disregarding his awkwardness. "That's why I'm not going to stay in Bakou—I have to keep them off my trail. They probably won't follow me into Tamura, and if I'm lucky, Takeda will eventually get tired of my running and forget about me."

"I don't mind if you tag along," Sozin said. "Crossing the border shouldn't be too hard. It's the least I could do for you."

"Don't you want someone around to watch your back anyway?" Kira thought back to all the other reasons she had for wanting to come along. War had taken her family, her life as a farmgirl, and sentenced her to a childhood of misery. "You don't seem like that kind of guy, but I want this war to end as much as anybody else does. Maybe I could help you?"

"We'll see," Sozin said. "Normally, I would say I work best alone, but maybe you're right..."

Maybe.

Just maybe.