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Jin sped through an alley, cloak drawn tight around her to ward off the morning chill. Ba Sing Se was heavy with rain, gray clouds hanging low, casting the city in shadow. Without the sun’s rays, the streets were gray upon brown upon gray. But the lack of sunlight wasn’t the only thing turning her home dismal—the occupation had eclipsed any sense of hope they might once have clung to. The unconquerable city had fallen without fanfare.
Jin stepped out of the alley, blinking in the brightened light of the street. “Papers,” barked a Fire Nation soldier at her left. Biting her tongue, Jin fished through her bag to find the papers proving her identity as a citizen of Ba Sing Se. Soldiers were everywhere, haunting once-familiar streets, searching for spirits-knew-who. She passed them over, and with agonizing slowness, the soldier inspected them. Jin’s papers were spotless, just as her record, but still she shifted from foot to foot, hoping he would let her go. Last week, Jin’s cousin Nabi had been stopped by a pair of soldiers for a random check. Though her papers were legal, they had decided to make an example of her. And it wasn’t only Nabi; Jin had heard of many women—too many women—being assaulted. To her relief, the soldier inspecting her documents grunted and handed them back to her, though Jin could feel his eyes glittering hungrily at her the whole way down the street.
Jin’s footsteps were hurried, beating a careful staccato down the cobblestone. Once, this street had been full of light and laughter. Now, she walked with her face downturned and her heart pounding in her chest. Though Ba Sing Se had never guaranteed her safety, Jin had always assured herself with the weight of her knife. Protecting herself was now considered an act of resistance. She still kept her knife tucked into her boot, because getting thrown in a prison was preferable to letting herself be used by whatever man decided she would be his next conquest. Sometimes Jin wished she never had to go out at all, but even though the spirits of her sisters killed and assaulted in the occupation haunted her, she was part of the resistance. She had to take action.
Face turned to the ground, Jin hurried into Pao’s Family Teashop. This was her duty: here, at a grimy, unsuspecting tea shop, she made contact with fellow members of the resistance. She carried messages, whispered meeting times and locations, and passed goods. The knowledge that she could be found out at any moment hung over her head like a stone. But she couldn’t watch her city fall, her community crumble, and her family hurt without doing something.
Stepping up to the counter, Jin considered the menu, though she never changed her order. “I’ll take a cup of mint tea,” she said, sliding the required coins across the rough wooden surface. Pao nodded, dark circles heavy under his eyes. Since Lee and Mushi’s disappearance, he had struggled to find someone to fill their role, and had resorted to doing most of the work himself. After a moment, Pao passed her a teacup. Cradling it in her hands, Jin savoured the last of the heat still in it, soaking the warmth into her stiff hands. She turned, ready to settle herself down at her usual table, but was confronted with something entirely unexpected. A man—no, a boy—sat in her chair. His hair was the colour of well-treated wood, his skin brown and dotted with pale scars, and his clothes worn and loose-fitting. The contact Jin was supposed to be meeting with this morning was familiar, and besides, wasn’t due to arrive for another twenty minutes.
Misgivings plagued her as she drifted towards the table. Who was this boy? A member of the resistance? A Fire Nation spy? A unknowing citizen who happened to sit at her table? As always, her curiosity got the better of her, and she settled on the hardback chair across from the stranger.
“You’re sitting at my table,” she said, by way of introduction. The boy glanced up, eyes flicking across her face. They were deep brown, uncommon in those born in around BCa Sing Se. A refugee, then. A child chased by war.
“Good morning to you, too.” His voice was sharp enough to cut through stone. Not wary, but ready for a fight at any moment. Fiddling with his teacup, he watched her.
“Do you think the sun will set red tomorrow?” she asked, taking a sip of tea. As always, it was lukewarm and overly bitter. The only time it had ever been anything good was when Lee and Mushi had been around to make it.
The boy blinked. “How am I supposed to know?”
With a sigh, Jin set down her cup. If the boy had been a new contact, he would’ve recognized the phrase and given the proper response. “Would you mind moving to a different table? I’m meeting with a friend, and this is where we normally sit.” The boy’s eyes went wide, and he sat forward.
“Wait,” he said, and Jin bit her tongue. She should’ve followed her instincts and sat at a different table. Whoever was meeting with her would have understood, and then she wouldn’t have had to diffuse this situation. Opening her mouth to speak, Jin pushed her tea aside, but the boy spoke first. “I know who you are.”
Fear as bright as lightning spiked through Jin, and her hand drifted under the table, closer to her boot. “I don’t know who you are, but I don’t think you should be talking to me.”
“No, no, I didn’t mean to say in that way,” he pleaded, holding his hands up. “My name is Jet, and I want to help.”
“Help,” Jin said, her stomach dropping. She didn’t know who Jet was, or what he wanted out of her, but the last thing she was going to do was trust an unrecommended stranger. The resistance was a well-kept secret, and an enemy spy among them was the last thing they needed. Chances were this Jet had bad intentions. And Jin was no fool.
“Yes, help. I did the same sort of thing back home, before I came here. I know I’ve done nothing to deserve your trust, but please, believe me.”
“If you think I’ll trust you, then you know nothing about this city,” Jin said, heart aching, and pushed away from the table, chair scraping against stone. “Please don’t try to talk to me again.” Picking up her cup, she stalked over to a different table, ignoring the boy’s lowered head.
***
Jin flicked rain off her coat as she stepped into the large community hall. Large sconces on the walls held cheerily flickering flames, casting the room in yellow light. While most of the space was empty, loud chatter echoed around Jin. Clumps of people were scattered around the room, talking and laughing. Warmth filled Jin as she tossed her coat onto a pile near the door. Large gatherings like this had been banned under the new regime, except if it had a valid purpose and all the proper paperwork for everyone involved was in place. As they were a community theatre company, they had more than a good reason to meet. But little did their conquerors know, they were also the heart of the resistance.
“I’m soaked,” Hien said, wringing out her hair. She and her brother Luo walked with her over to the hall, as they lived a block over from her. Even though Jin had lived in the city her whole life, her grandparents would no longer let her leave home alone at night.
“I’m sick of water,” Jin agreed, kicking off her shoes. “I know it’s the rainy season, but still. Five days of straight downpour is too much.”
Luo stepped forward, stretching his arms above his head. “Be grateful, because the ashmakers are far less likely to do random inspections in this weather,” he said, then in a graceful spin, turned and joined a group across the room.
“I swear he’s positive solely to annoy me,” Hien grumbled, walking towards the center of the room, where Aiguo, their director and the leader of the resistance, stood.
“He’s right, though,” Jin replied, elbowing Hien in the side. “If I have to watch an ashmaker stare at my papers one more time, I’m going to stab someone.”
“Please don’t,” she replied, and they laughed.
Their company—about fifty people in total, including both actors and technicians, grizzled former soldiers and fresh-faced youth—gathered into a loose circle. They watched Aiguo, who clapped his hands to draw in their attention.
“Friends,” he said, smiling around at them. “Thank you for coming tonight. Before we begin our rehearsal, I would like to introduce a few new members to you all.” He gestured to his left, where three youths stood. One was a lanky boy with dark hair who looked to be about fourteen, the age of Jin’s younger brother, the next a girl with a piercing gaze and shaggy hair, and the third was a boy who was uncomfortably familiar. He looked nearly the same as when Jin had seen him three weeks previous, barring the now more prominent bags under his eyes. The boy from Pao’s: Jet. Her stomach twisting, she bit her tongue, glancing over at Hien, who raised her eyebrow at Jin’s expression. While Aiguo continued speaking, she leaned over and whispered into her friend’s ear.
“Remember when I told you about that kid who was trying to intimidate me into letting him join the resistance?” she said, voice low. Hien’s eyebrow shot up.
“Don’t tell me he’s one our new members,” she whispered back, a smile climbing across her face. Glancing at Jet once again, Jin let out a small huff.
“He’s the one next to Aiguo,” she said, taking him fully. He still wore the same, ragged clothes, and he held the same fire in his eyes. But the way he held himself—casually confident, eyes flicking around the room as if searching for an unexpected threat—told a different story. One of a boy who knew how to fight. If he was only a recent refugee looking to liberate his new home, his skill would be advantageous. But it was likely he had more sinister intentions. “I don’t trust him,” Jin added, and Hien’s smile dropped. She opened her mouth to say something, but two attention-calling claps from Aiguo cut her short.
“Alright everyone, get rehearsing. We’ve got lots to do before our next performance.” As soon as his bellowing voice faded, the circle around them scattered, turning into smaller groups chattering loudly. Aiguo still stood at the head of the room, talking to Jet and the two other newcomers.
Taking a step forward, Jin moved towards them, but a hand caught her wrist. “I know what you’re thinking,” Hien said, giving her a flat look. “And let me tell you, it isn’t a good idea.”
“I’m not going to confront him,” Jin replied, attempting to tug herself out of Hien’s grip. “All I want to do is warn Aiguo, because it’s something he should know.” Her voice sounded pleading, even to her own ears. After a moment, and to her great relief, Hien let go.
“Don’t celebrate. I’m coming with you.” Hien’s gaze was steady. With a small sigh, Jin turned, Hien following close behind. They pushed through small crowds of people, making their way to the front of the room. When they arrived, Aiguo was still in deep discussion with the newcomers. Glancing up, he gave them a small smile and flashed up a finger, signalling that he would talk to them in a minute. While he finished his discussion, Jin watched Jet carefully. His hands were browned and scarred, evidence of hard work. If she could flip them over and read his palms, she could understand what kind of hard work that was. Callouses from swords looked distinctly different from callouses from farming or factory work.
“Glad to have you with us,” Aiguo said, waving away Jet and his companions. He stepped over to Jin and Hien, glancing between them. “What do you two need?”
Taking in a steadying breath, Jin straightened. “I have something that I think you should know. A few weeks ago, when I was in Pao’s waiting for a contact, Jet came to me and begged me to let him join the resistance. I didn’t know how he knew I was a part of it, but I shut him down immediately.”
“If you were compromised, you should’ve told me earlier, Jin,” Aiguo said, one brown hand rubbing his eyes. He looked so much older than he had a few weeks ago. Gray hair seemed to have conquered his hair, and his once fresh face carried new lines.
“I wasn’t compromised,” Jin replied, staring at him. “I was trying to say that I don’t trust Jet. I think he’s a spy,” she said, taking a step forward. Behind her, she heard Hien shift. A frown crossed Aiguo’s face, settling into comfortable lines.
“Him knowing you were part of the resistance isn’t reasonable grounds for suspicion. You know that.”
Jin stepped forward again, searching Aiguo’s impassable face. “But—”
“I won’t hear any more, Jin. Let it rest.” It was a dismissal, one she shouldn’t ignore. She opened her mouth to protest, but another look from Aiguo stopped her. Eyes stringing, she turned heel and stalked in the other direction. Pattering feet hurried behind her.
“Jin, don’t take it personally,” Hien called out, hurrying up beside her. “Aiguo has a lot on his mind. He doesn’t need something else to worry about.”
“If he won’t take my suspicions seriously, we all might have a lot to worry about,” Jin replied, coming to a stop beside the back wall. She leaned her head against the cool surface, listening to the sound of driving rain mix with the low chatter of voices around her.
Hien took her hand and squeezed it. “Don’t worry. Everything will work out fine.”
“Or so we hope,” Jin replied, smiling sadly at Hien. Slowly, she removed her hand from her friend’s grip and walked away.
***
Jin’s fingers drummed against her knee, tapping in rhythm with the song of the morning street. The sun was peeking over the wall, first yellow rays brushing against the dirty streets. She had been waiting since the sky was half-dark and pink was only beginning to lighten it. Most of that was the anxiety and excitement of her upcoming day, though whoever she was waiting for was definitely late. She was set to have her first real mission today. Months of hard work and begging had been leading up to this moment, and finally, she had proved to Aiguo that she was worthy of field work.
A cart rumbled by in front of Jin, crashing through a puddle of water. She was far enough away from it that the spray didn’t reach her, but many of those passing by weren’t so lucky. A few protested, calling out to the driver with choice words. One of them was strangely familiar, though his dark expression was new. Jin’s stomach dropped. If her partner on this mission was Jet, she was doomed.
Jet caught her eye, and expression clearing, joined her at the outdoor seating area of the small tea shop that had been chosen as their meeting place. “I heard that sunflowers grow well this spring,” he said, repeating the opening of the passphrase.
“Not in the king’s garden,” Jin replied, forcing a smile.
“Perhaps we should grow some for him,” Jet said, offering his arm to her. Jin took it, but didn’t bother to reply. They walked away from the teashop, Jin leading them. They both knew parts of the mission, but not every detail, for security reasons. Jin knew the destination, and Jet knew their target. They were headed to a former Watch outpost, which had been converted into a base for Fire Nation soldiers. Most logically, they would be extracting some sort of document.
“Why do you not like me?” Jet’s voice cut through Jin’s thoughts. They had been walking for some time in silence, and though Jin had been at peace with their lack of conversation, Jet wasn’t.
Jin bit her tongue, considering her reply. “It’s not that I don’t like you,” she said, guiding them around a large puddle on the side of the street, “It’s that you appeared out of nowhere, begging to join the troupe, without any recommendations or demonstrations of skill. And I don’t want someone without proper training messing up any of our performances.”
Jet squinted at her, brown eyes narrowing. “Are you jealous of me?”
“Jealous?” Jin repeated, a laugh choking her response. “Of what?”
He shrugged, face turning back to the street. “You’ve been involved in the theater company for years, and you think it’s finally your turn to shine. And just as you’re getting good, someone new appears and immediately gets everything you’ve dreamed of. I don’t blame you,” Jet said, throwing up his hands.
“New rule: let’s not talk about anything personal,” Jin hissed. Yanking her arm out of Jet’s grip and stalking forward, Jin wove through the streets expertly, leaving Jet to find his own way. He was right, in a way, but that didn’t mean she had to like him.
“Wait, Jin, I didn’t mean—” Jet called out, chasing after her. A few apologies and choice curse words later he was by her side again. “I don’t want to ruin anything, I just want to help.”
Jin halted in the middle of the street, the crowds parting around them as they stared at one another. “Then please, for both our sakes, stop talking and do your job.”
Jet opened his mouth to say something, then bit it off, hesitating. “Fine,” he amended, then gave a small bow. Jin gave a small nod back, and then led the way through Ba Sing Se’s cramped streets. The Watch outpost was only two neighbourhoods over from theirs, so it wouldn’t appear too suspicious for them to be there. It did mean somewhat of a walk, though, and as they travelled, the sun rose over the wall, heat beating down on rank puddles and drawing out a smell Jin preferred to avoid.
Before long, Jin pulled Jet into a small alley around the corner from the building. “We’re here,” she whispered, gesturing to their target across the street. “Now, what are we doing?”
“We’re stealing a map,” he said, eyes brightening. “Or, well, we’re transcribing it so the ashmakers don’t suspect us. I’ll give a signal to our diversion, then we’ll sneak in and you’ll copy it down for me.” Jin twisted her grandmother’s ring around her finger, considering. She knew she would be involved, but sneaking into a building crawling with Fire Nation soldiers and transcribing a map under pressure was more than she had expected.
“Why can’t you transcribe it?” Jin said, mostly to delay the inevitable.
Jet glanced down, chewing his lip absentmindedly. “I’m an orphan. It’s hard to learn how to read and write when you spent your childhood stuck up in a tree.” His eyes were shuttered, his expression closed off. But even with that, Jin wanted to apologize, to give his hand a reassuring squeeze and make sure he knew she didn’t judge him. They were keeping this professional, though, so she restrained herself.
“Alright. Let’s get on with this.” Jet nodded, and he slipped across the street to a different alley. Jin followed him, walking casually. If there was one thing Aiguo had drilled into her head, it was to stay normal even if you were doing anything but. One they were both hidden in the recesses of the alley’s shadows, Jet began scaling the side of the building like a canyon crawler. One at the top, he glanced down at her with a frown.
“What are you waiting for?” he asked, staring with furrowed brows. Jin fiddled with her ring, trying not to look helpless.
“I’m scared of heights,” she whispered back. She expected Jet to loose an exasperated sigh, but instead he gave her an even nod and lowered himself halfway down the building.
“Take my hands. I’ll hold the whole time, so there’s no need to worry,” he said, smiling. Jin took in a steadying breath, then stepped forward and grabbed Jet’s hands. They were rough, calloused, and incredibly steady. “Now climb,” Jet instructed. With his help, and no glancing at the ground, Jin arrived at the top of the building without incident.
Kneeling and brushing off her dress, Jin turned towards Jet. “Thank you.”
“Just doing my job,” he replied with a shrug. Without further fanfare, he crawled across the dusty roof of the building, staring at the watch outpost. Jin joined him, her stomach dropping. The distance between their building and their target was much further than she’d anticipated. But she was a field agent for Ba Sing Se’s resistance. She risked her life daily to liberate this city. This would be nothing.
“Ready?” Jet’s voice cut through her thoughts. Jin nodded. “I’m going to give the signal now,” he whispered. “I would recommend covering your ears, since you’re right next to me.” Following his advice, Jin covered her ears, only to wince at his loud crawling. It wasn’t out of place in the frantic city, but whoever was orchestrating their diversion would be listening carefully for it.
Almost as soon as Jin removed her hands from off her ears, a scuffle broke out below. That would be their diversion. She glanced over at Jet, adrenaline pumping through her veins. “It’s now or never.”
He grinned at her, and almost in unison, they stood. As they stepped back to run across to the neighbouring rooftop, anxiety pinched at Jin’s heart and she grasped onto Jet’s hand. He didn’t seem phased, and ran without looking at her. Jin’s pace matched his, their feet matching time with her racing heart. The ledge drew nearer and nearer.
Their half a second in the air was almost like death, Jin’s heart nearly bursting out of her chest. Thankfully, she kept her teeth firmly gritted, and not a sound escaped her lips as she passed over an empty alleyway. They landed on the opposing rooftop with a soft thump. Heart pounding and vision blurry, Jin allowed Jet to lead her into the outpost, slipping through a window left cracked open. Each soft stepp blurred together as Jin attempted to reign in her wildly breathing heart.
“We’re here,” Jet whispered, his breath tickling her ear. Jin blinked, taking in the room. A large, shiny wooden chair sat before a stately desk, and papers coated every available surface.
“Right,” she whispered back, more to herself than anything. “Which one is it?” Jet had stepped away, searching the walls. Her eyes, too, flicked over everything in the room, and she longed for enough time to copy it all down.
Jet waved her over, his eyes sparkling. “This one.” He gestured to a map of the city, complete with all of the Fire Nation’s outposts, barracks, and other important buildings. From out of a deep pocket, Jet withdrew a notebook and bit of charcoal, and Jin set to work immediately. Almost soundlessly, Jet moved towards the half-open doorway to watch if someone was coming. The outpost was mostly silent, though the sounds of the fight could still be heard from outside. Some part of Jin’s mind, that part unoccupied by her work, hoped that whoever in the resistance had been involved would escape unscathed.
Though more time must have passed, it felt like only a few moments before Jet spoke. “Jin,” Jet’s voice carried across the small room. “We need to go. I hear movement.”
“Just a second,” she whispered back, glancing at the map one more time. There were only a few details left, and if they were important, and she missed them… She didn’t want to imagine what might happen.
“Leave it,” he said, hurrying over to her.
Jin elbowed him, not looking up. “I’ll only be a second.”
“No, we need to go!” he hissed, taking her arm and half-dragging her. Jin glanced up at him, opening her mouth to snap back at him, but two nearby voices shut her up. Eyes widening, Jin let herself be dragged, half-running, out of the room. There was less effort to disguise their footsteps now, only the rush to leave before they were caught. Jin folded the map as best she could and shoved it into her pocket, hoping it would go unnoticed.
“I think I hear something.” A deep voice, coated with an unmistakably Fire Nation accent, resounded towards them.
“Oh, did rats get in again?” replied a second voice, and they both laughed. Jin’s breaths were coming fast now, but the window was finally in view, golden light streaming in.
“We’ll need to jump,” Jet said, hands clutching her arm. Jin stumbled, the thought of leaping out into the street stalling her. “I know you don’t want to, but please.” His voice was pleading, a little raw, and for the first time, Jin felt like she was talking to Jet, not some front he put on.
“I—” Jin hesitated as they came up to the window. “As long as we do it together,” she said, glancing at Jet. His brown eyes were steely yet confident. Without a second though, Jin placed her hand in his and clambered up onto the windowsill. Jet joined her, and before she had to think, they were sailing towards the ground. They landed with an awful crunch, Jin’s ankle rolling under her. Gritting her teeth, she pushed herself to feet and ran. Jet’s hand was still caught in hers, and despite the pain, they raced through Ba Sing Se’s streets. Leading them on a wild path, through alleys and around in circles, Jin hoped they would lose whatever pursuers might have tried to follow them.
“Hey,” Jet said, when they finally slowed down, his chest heaving. “You did great back there.”
“So did you.”
“Thank you.” His smile was genuine, reaching his eyes. Jin bit her tongue, staring at the boy who had just risked his life for her. There were so many moments where he could’ve left her behind, leaving her for the ashmakers, but he hadn’t.
“No, thank you,” Jin said, offering Jet a genuine smile of her own. “You’re not so bad after all.”