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One thing Kiri didn’t expect to change when her family moved to Awa’atlu was the amount of friends she had. In fact, she almost took comfort in the fact, by now used to her brothers and Spider being her only friends. While the bullying back in High Camp never reached the level it did in Awa’atlu (after all, she was Toruk Makto’s daughter), her age mates tended to avoid her and whispered to each other about how “weird” she was. And, okay, maybe they were right. Kiri was weird, but she was beginning to believe that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. That’s what Tsireya told her at least.
Kiri’s friendship with Tsireya really was a product of Lo’ak’s tentative friendship with Ao’nung. Tsireya had always been nice to her, but the Sullys and the reef kids didn’t truly become a friend group until after Payakan. Their bond was truly cemented after Neteyam’s death. Even though she considered Ao’nung and Rotxo to also be her friends, Kiri was closest with Tsireya. Just like her, Tsireya had a close bond with Eywa. She may not have always felt what Kiri did regarding the Great Mother, but she was continuously fascinated by their connection. Other than that, the two girls were rather different. Tsireya was popular in the clan whereas Kiri was only just now accepted. Tsireya was kind-hearted where Kiri could occasionally be blunt; she was soft in ways Kiri was hard.
Even after Spider had joined their ragtag group, Kiri still sometimes opted to hang out solely with Tsireya whose presence she found calming like gentle ocean waves.
So, after the tulkun council meeting and Lo’ak’s outburst, Kiri’s eyes met Tsireya, both silently agreeing they needed to go after him. Jake had followed Lo’ak, but Kiri wasn’t comforted by that in the slightest. Her dad and brother’s relationship had been fraught since the war but, after Neteyam’s death, became even more so.
Despite Neytiri and Ronal trying to stop them, Kiri and Tsireya went after Lo’ak. They followed the sound of tense voices deeper into the village until they saw Jake and Lo’ak. Lo’ak’s lips were already trembling, but Kiri could tell the grief in her father’s heart wasn’t allowing him to see that. He said, “If you didn’t disobey orders, then your brother would still be-“ Despite knowing her dad’s heart was full of anger, Kiri couldn’t believe what he said. Neither could Tsireya as evident by her small gasp. Kiri watched as Jake and Lo’ak looked into each other’s eyes, doing everything but seeing one another. Even from far away, Kiri could see tears begin to stream down Lo’ak’s face.
“That wasn’t my fault,” he said, his voice cracking. “D-Dad, that- that’s not my fault!” Lo’ak’s broken voice became a scream. He put one of his hands on Jake’s chest, pushing him and sending him stumbling backwards with a shocked look on his face. Lo’ak let out another pained sob as he stormed off, Jake calling after him. When Lo’ak got into one of the boats, Jake groaned, turning on his heels as he walked away. He didn’t even see Kiri and Tsireya as he angrily passed them. Kiri and Tsireya looked at each other, both girls now in tears themselves.
“I can’t believe Dad would say that,” Kiri quietly said. She couldn’t reconcile the man she just saw with the man who still called her baby girl and used to read her to sleep.
“I know,” Tsireya said, briefly closing her eyes. “I know he’s in pain, but-“
“That doesn’t mean he can take it out on my brother!” Kiri said. Tsireya rested her hand on Kiri’s shoulder.
“I know,” she said. “Maybe with time-“
“No,” Kiri interrupted her, shaking her head. “It’s only going to get worse if they don’t actually talk to each other. Not yell! Mom knows that, but, lately, she’s so-“ Kiri sighed. She didn’t want to say anything against her mother whose heart truly was in a million pieces, scattered all over Pandora. She was practically numb, choosing to sing Neteyam’s song cord over and over again until her voice became raw. Kiri tried to get her to at least eat something, and Tuk tried to cheer her up with stories about her underwater adventures with her new friends, but nothing worked. Often, she’d just stare at them like she was looking straight through them. “We need to go after him. Who knows what that skxawng is going to do?” Tsireya nodded.
“You’re right,” she said. “He shouldn’t be alone right now.” There were no more available boats, so Kiri and Tsireya jumped in the water, calling over two ilu and telling them to go in the direction they saw Lo’ak sail.
They found his boat washed up on the sand not far from the village. It was a part of the beach the teenagers often hung out when they wanted to get away from the increasingly heavy expectations that were being put on them. Kiri and Tsireya got off their ilu, just in time to see Lo’ak walk up a sandy mound. He was walking slowly, essentially trudging along. At first, Kiri thought it was because of the uneven sand, but then she saw the long gun at his side. It wasn’t unusual for Lo’ak to carry a gun, particularly after Neteyam, but it still caused a pit to form in the bottom of Kiri’s stomach. Tsireya obviously felt the same way, her breathing becoming more and more uneven. They watched as Lo’ak fell to his knees in front of a small cliff, overlooking the sea. Kiri’s eyes widened as she watched Lo’ak shove the barrel of the gun into his chin. “Eywa,” Tsireya said, barely above a whisper. Then louder. “Eywa! Lo’ak, no!”
“Lo’ak!” Kiri yelled, the two girls taking off towards Lo’ak. Kiri silently repeated a prayer to Eywa in her head. Not my little brother, she begged. Not him. Her heart began to race even faster when she saw Lo’ak’s finger touch the trigger. Kiri and Tsireya made it to him, just in time to see him throw the gun off to the side with an angry cry. “Brother.” Kiri and Tsireya crouched down in the sand, huddling around Lo’ak. Kiri put her hands on his back, nervously looking at the disposed gun like it could still fire without a shooter. Tsireya began checking Lo’ak for any injuries other than the ones haunting his mind. Kiri took Lo’ak’s face in her hands. “Stay in this life, brother.” Just like she did with Eywa, she was begging him. “We need you.”
“We love you,” Tsireya added, her voice heavy with tears. Kiri hugged Lo’ak and couldn’t believe how fragile he felt. She wasn’t used to that. Lo’ak had always been a strong, albeit chaotic, presence in her life. She’d been too young to remember when he was born, so, like Neteyam, she didn’t know what life was like without him. She never wanted to find out. Not like she had with their older brother.
“You have greatness in you,” Kiri said, her voice firm. She wished, not for the first time, that Lo’ak could feel how much she loved him. How much they all loved him. Despite their occasional bickering, Lo’ak was her little brother. She couldn’t help but remember the time when they were around seven and six he had comforted her. Kiri had just come back from seeing Grace in her tank and felt more upset about it than usual, likely due to the fact Tuk had just been born and Kiri was afraid her mommy wasn’t going to love her as much anymore. She didn’t want to lose Mommy like she lost Mama. Then, she could barely see because of the tears in her eyes, but she remembered Lo’ak pushing the wooden Toruk toy they often fought over closer to her. He patted her hand and said, “He’ll make you happy.” Lo’ak had always had greatness in him, and Kiri was determined to show him that.
Jake and Neytiri were sitting on the floor of their marui, cutting up vegetables for dinner. They were practically on opposite sides of the room, both still reeling after their recent fight. Jake hoped that drowning his sorrows with zangke would help lessen the hurt in his heart, but it had only made him feel more raw. He knew he was isolating himself from his family. He had always known that. Still, a small voice inside his head told him that it was alright if they hated him as long as it meant they stayed alive.
Jake heard noises outside the marui and looked up from his knife. Kiri and Tsireya walked into the marui, standing on both sides of Lo’ak as they held him up. The look in Lo’ak’s eyes wasn’t one Jake had seen before in his son, but it still felt eerily familiar. Both Neytiri and Jake were quick to rush over to the three teenagers. “What happened?” Jake asked. He tried to make his tone as sensitive as possible, but he knew it wasn’t coming across that way. How could he remain calm when something had made his baby boy look like that? You did that, a voice whispered.
“Oh, my sweet boy,” Neytiri said, taking Lo’ak’s face in her hands and stroking his cheeks. “What’s wrong?”
“He-“
“We need to put him to bed first,” Kiri said, interrupting whatever Tsireya was going to say. “We can talk after.”
“I can take him,” Tsireya said. “You all can talk.” Jake glanced at Neytiri, not wanting to let Lo’ak out of his sight again, but saw his wife nod slightly.
“Thank you, Tsireya,” Neytiri said, squeezing one of the girl’s free hands. Kiri unwrapped Lo’ak’s arm from her shoulders and deposited him into Tsireya’s waiting arms. She whispered something in his ear that Jake couldn’t hear. She then stomped off, going back outside the marui. Jake gave Lo’ak one last glance before he and Neytiri followed Kiri. Kiri was sitting on the pathway, her feet tangling in the water and her head in her hand.
“Kiri, what happened?” Jake asked. Kiri looked up at him with a look he had never seen her cast towards him before, not even when he said that Spider had to go home and she said that she hated him. It was a look of hate, one he was becoming increasingly more aware of seeing in his family’s eyes.
“He-he was going to kill himself,” Kiri said. Neytiri gasped like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“What?” Jake said, his voice breaking. Like Neytiri, he was shocked. He knew Lo’ak was upset, rightfully so, but he didn’t expect him to go to those lengths. Suicide for the Omatikaya was something only the most pained did. It rarely happened and, when it did, it was usually at someone else’s hand like in the case of Tsu’tey when his tswin was destroyed. Jake couldn’t believe that the little boy who used to hold onto his tail wherever he went would become so familiar with the darkness Jake had been running from his entire life.
“Tsireya and I found him with a gun against his chin,” Kiri said. “Thank Eywa he tossed it just a few seconds before we got to him.” Tears began pouring out of Kiri’s eyes. Neytiri sat beside their daughter, putting her hand on her back, as they both cried. Kiri looked at Neytiri, so much distress in her eyes. “His finger was on the trigger, Mom.”
“Oh, my darling,” Neytiri quietly said as she hugged Kiri tightly. Kiri continued to cry in her neck. “Your brother is in so much pain.” Kiri lifted up her head and shot Jake a glare.
“Because of Dad,” she said. Neytiri had nothing to say to that which caused Jake’s heart to break more than he thought possible. She was right. It was his fault.
“Kiri, why don’t you go check on your brother and Tsireya and then go get Ronal?” Neytiri said after she sniffled and attempted to wipe away her tears. “See if she has any herbs to relax your brother, so he can get some sleep tonight. Your father and I need to talk.” Kiri nodded. Both she and Neytiri stood up. Kiri shot Jake one last glare before walking towards the healer’s hut in the village. As soon as she was out of sight, Neytiri rounded on him. “What did you say to him? When you argued?” Jake winced, guilt eating him up.
“I told him that he needed to stop disobeying orders. That, if he had, N-Neteyam might still be alive,” Jake said, ashamed. Neytiri stared at him but didn’t say anything for what felt like hours.
“How could you say that?” she eventually whispered. Jake looked into her eyes and saw that the hurt that had been in them since their son’s death had only been worsened by his own failures. “Do you not think he feels bad enough? Do you want to lose another son, Jake?”
“No, of course not!” Jake exclaimed. “I just want him to know that his actions have consequences!”
“He knows that, Jake!” Neytiri yelled, her volume matching his. “He lost his brother, his best friend! What bigger consequence could there possibly be?” Not for the first time since Neteyam’s death, Jake thought about Tommy. He knew the pain Lo’ak was feeling intimately and yet, he continued to make it worse. “Jake, Lo’ak stood up for the one brother he has left— Payakan. I may not agree with what he said or feel like that was the time or place, but I understand. He already lost one brother and doesn’t want to lose Payakan too. Instead of acknowledging that, you hurt him even more. That’s not what a good father does, Jake.”
“I know,” Jake quietly said. He looked out into the sea, trying to focus on the waves and not the tears clouding his vision. “I don’t want this, Neytiri.”
“Don’t want what?” Neytiri said, putting a gentle hand on his back. It was more than he deserved.
“I don’t want this to be our kids’ lives. I don’t want this to be your life,” he said “Me? Maybe I deserve it, but not you guys.”
“But this is our life, and we must accept it,” Neytiri said. Jake shook his head.
“Not if I just turned myself in,” he said. “Then, you and the kids could focus on healing and finally be at peace.” Neytiri hissed as if the suggestion itself pained her.
“And where would we be without you?” she said. Jake just scoffed.
“Better off,” he said.
“No,” Neytiri said, shaking her head. “I don’t believe that.”
“Neytiri, look at what happened today! You practically said it yourself! I’m not a good father,” Jake said. He then laughed bitterly. “Hell, I don’t even know if I’m a good person anymore. You guys deserve so much better than me.”
“Then be better,” Neytiri said simply. “Be better for Lo’ak. He needs you, his father, not a drill sergeant. Stop this, what is it you say, pity party and be there for our son like you promised you always would be. Do you remember that? When he was first born?” Jake nodded as the memory washed over him. He remembered holding Lo’ak for the first time, Neytiri watching tiredly from the area she had just given birth in. He remembered touching Lo’ak’s eyebrows, his four fingers, and swearing to him that, no matter what, his demons wouldn’t become his. Swearing to him that he’d always be there for him. Neytiri sighed, bringing him out of his trance. “I’m going to check on Lo’ak.”
“I should-“
“Yes,” she said, nodding. “You should.” Jake followed Neytiri back into the marui and over to where all their hammocks were. He was asleep, his features no longer as tense, as Tsireya kneeled beside him, her fingers gently caressing his eyebrows. “Thank you, Tsireya.” Tsireya looked up at them and nodded. Tears were in her big, blue eyes. She stood up right in front of Jake and stared at him like she was seeing all his shortcomings in front of her and rightfully judging him.
“He just wants you to see him,” Tsireya said, anger apparent in her voice, before storming out of the marui. Jake winced, knowing good and well how right she was. He knew it had taken all of the soft-spoken girl’s courage to say that, despite it being the truth. He was glad his son had her.
Sleep didn’t come easy for Jake or really at all. He hadn’t left Lo’ak’s side by his hammock all night. Ever since Tsireya had left, he had been kneeling beside his son, stroking his eyebrows just like she had. He spent all night, truly seeing his son. Seeing his innocence. Seeing his pain. It all caused Jake to feel even more guilty. It wasn’t like he woke up everyday determined to berate his son. Before the war, he and Lo’ak were as close as a father and son could be. Back then, he had found his son’s devil-may-care attitude a funny remnant of his own personality. When the sky people came back though, that all changed. Jake changed. The carefree dad with jokes that would only make sense on earth quickly fell back into being the stern marine, made even sterner by finally having something to fight for- his family.
All of this caused Jake to keep replaying what happened at the tulkun council meeting and then his subsequent fight with Lo’ak in his head. Why didn’t he stand up for Payakan, he asked himself over and over again. After all, the tulkun had saved his life. The tulkun and Lo’ak! Jake once again realized that Lo’ak was simply braver than him. He was better than him. He was so good and always fought for what was right, even when it was difficult. Once upon a time, Jake thought that’s what he would’ve done too, but now he wasn’t so sure.
As Jake’s thoughts became increasingly darker, he knew he needed some air. He went outside the marui, sitting in the same place Kiri sat when she told he and Neytiri what happened. He let his feet dangle in the water like she had but, unlike when she did, no glowing fish came to surround him. Usually vigilant, Jake didn’t even notice when someone joined him. The empty space beside him was taken up by another body. Lo’ak. “Kid, what are you doing up?” he asked. “Ronal said you need to rest.”
“I can’t sleep,” Lo’ak quietly replied. “Nightmares.” Jake nodded, the concept of nightmares all too familiar. The pair sat in silence until Jake gained the courage he had been looking for all night.
“Lo’ak, I-I don’t know how to be the dad you need,” he said. “I swear I try so goddamn harder, but I still always fuck it up. You don’t deserve that, son. You’re so… good. You’re everything good about me and your mom, and I need you to know that.” Lo’ak just scoffed.
“You’re only saying that because Mom yelled at you,” he said. “I heard her!”
“Lo’ak, look at me,” Jake said, touching his son’s cheek. Lo’ak reluctantly did. “This war has awakened something in me that I don’t like. I don’t like what I see when I see my own reflection in the water. I don’t know how to change that, but I think it maybe starts with being the dad you kids deserve and the husband your mom deserves.”
“Daddy, it hurts,” Lo’ak said after another brief period of silence. His lips were trembling, and tears filled his eyes. “It hurts because you were right. Neteyam was my fault.”
“No, it wasn’t, son!” Jake exclaimed. “You’re 14, Lo’ak. Your brother’s safety is- was my responsibility, not yours. If Neteyam had heard what I said, I know he would’ve left the spirit world just to smack me upside the head.” That at least caused a small smile to appear on Lo’ak’s face. “I shouldn’t have said that to you, kiddo. I was angry, and I lashed out at you. I know what it’s like to lose a brother and think that nothing is worth living for anymore, but that’s not true. It wasn’t true for me, and it definitely isn’t true for you.”
“How did you continue? After Uncle Tommy?” Lo’ak asked. Jake put his arm around him, and Lo’ak rested his head in his chest.
“I found something worth living for,” Jake said. “Your mom, you, your siblings… all of you gave me purpose, the kind of purpose that you fight for everyday.”
“What if I don’t have a purpose?” Lo’ak asked. Jake quickly shook his head.
“That couldn’t be further from the truth, kiddo,” he said. “You stood up for Payakan today when no one else did. You did something brave, something I wasn’t brave enough to do. At 14, you’re already braver than seasoned warriors and leaders. Your purpose is what it’s always been: to fight for what is right. I’m sorry I’m just now realizing that, baby boy.” Jake felt one of Lo’ak’s tears hit his chest, and he kissed the top of his head. “I’m going to do better, Lo’ak. I promise.”