Chapter 23: Belief

The journey had been slow and tense, with both Shoji and the boy constantly wary of each other. Neither spoke more than necessary, their conversations limited to the essentials; where to go, what to avoid, when to stop for rest. There was a silent understanding between them that neither could yet put into words.

Shoji, scarred and hardened, watched the boy out of the corner of his eye, always trying to read between the lines of the boy's movements, his expressions, the careful way he avoided certain topics.

The boy, on the other hand, felt uneasy around Shoji's presence. He wasn't afraid, not exactly, but something about the man unsettled him. Shoji carried himself like a soldier, but there was no pride in the way he moved, no confidence. He had the look of a man who had nothing left to lose.

That boy, was Aang, though he kept his identity and face hidden for most of the journey. They travelled on foot, keeping off the roads, moving through the vast wilderness of the Earth Kingdom. Aang had made the decision to hide Appa as soon as he had met Shoji, unwilling to risk exposing himself as an airbender; or worse, as the Avatar, to someone he did not know anything about.

He had told himself it was simply caution, but deep down, he knew there was more to it than that. Shoji, for his part, said nothing about the boy's reluctance to trust him. He had seen that kind of caution before, knew it well. He had lived in a world where trust was a luxury few could afford, where the wrong word or misplaced faith could cost everything.

For days, they walked in uneasy silence, only broken when necessary. But then, everything changed.

It started with the sound of armoured footsteps. They heard them before they saw them; the distinct, rhythmic clanking of metal boots against the dirt, the murmur of disciplined voices, the low hum of something dangerous lurking just out of sight.

Shoji's posture stiffened immediately, his body moving on instinct as he reached for a weapon he no longer had.

Aang felt his stomach tighten, an old fear rising unbidden in his chest. They moved quickly, ducking into the thick underbrush, pressing themselves low against the earth. Shoji's breathing slowed, controlled, while Aang had to force himself to remain still, his heart hammering against his ribs.

The soldiers passed by in formation; firebenders clad in red and black, their armour gleaming under the midday sun. Their expressions were cold, disciplined, faces that Aang had seen before, again and again, in his nightmares.

Shoji, however, saw something different. He saw men who had once been his comrades, men he could have fought alongside, who would have called him brother had things been different. But now, they were enemies. The moment stretched on, each second dragging into an eternity.

Then, finally, the soldiers disappeared beyond the tree line, their presence fading into the distance. Aang and Shoji remained where they were for a moment longer, neither speaking, neither moving, both letting out breaths they had not realized they were holding.

Then, almost at the same time, their eyes met. There was something unspoken in that glance, something neither of them had the words for. And then, unexpectedly, they both chuckled.

It was quiet at first, barely more than a breath of laughter, but it grew. Not out of amusement, not out of joy, but from the sheer absurdity of it all. The tension that had been weighing them down finally cracked, just a little, just enough to let something else in.

Shoji shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck, "Guess we're both avoiding the same people."

Aang grinned, still breathless from the moment, "Yeah… I guess we are."

That small moment of shared relief changed everything. The air between them felt lighter as they continued walking. The caution remained, but the hostility, the wariness… it had softened, if only slightly.

They still did not fully trust each other, not yet, but the lines between friend and foe were no longer as clear as they had been.

It wasn't until the following day that Shoji finally spoke the words he had been holding back. They had stopped for the night, finding shelter beneath the cover of an overgrown cliffside. The fire crackled softly between them, casting flickering shadows across Shoji's scarred face, highlighting the deep lines of exhaustion, the weariness that clung to him like a second skin.

"Heh… you might not believe me, but I used to be a Fire Nation soldier," he said, his voice quiet, steady. There was no hesitation, no attempt to soften the truth. He was done hiding.

Aang, who had been absentmindedly poking at the fire with a stick, paused. He looked up, saying nothing, waiting for Shoji to continue.

"My unit… we were sent on a mission. A suicide mission, and we all knew it. My superior; Lieutenant Azolin, he was following orders from higher up. The Fire Lord wanted me dead, and Azolin made sure of it." Shoji exhaled sharply, a bitter smile ghosting his lips.

"We were thrown to the wolves. The Earth Kingdom caught us, and my men; every last one of them were killed. I was captured."

Aang's grip on the stick tightened, "Captured?" Back at Bumi's place, he had heard of the war between the other Earth kingdom cities and the Fire-nation, but he only overheard stories of the earth-kingdoms either losing or winning in terms of numbers of casualties and cities lost.

Shoji nodded. His expression was unreadable, but the firelight reflected something in his eyes… something deep, something fractured.

"For two years," he said, "They tortured me. They wanted information. Troop movements, supply lines, war strategies; things I didn't know. I wasn't high-ranking, wasn't important enough to know anything useful. But they didn't believe me. So, they kept trying. Again, and again."

Aang swallowed hard, feeling his stomach twist. He could see it now, the pain buried beneath Shoji's hardened exterior, the weight he carried in every step, every breath. His hand slightly quivering while holding onto a piece of fire-wood before finally letting go and throwing it into the campfire.

"I don't even know how I survived," Shoji admitted, "Maybe they got tired of me. Maybe they thought I was already broken. Either way, I got out. And now…" he let out a slow breath, "Now, I don't know what I am anymore."

Silence settled between them. Aang wasn't sure how to respond, wasn't sure what to say. He had spent so much of his life seeing the Fire Nation as the enemy, as a faceless force of destruction, number on a report he sneaked a glance at.

 But now, sitting across from this man; this man who had suffered, who had been betrayed, who had lost everything, he realized something. The Fire Nation wasn't a single thing. It wasn't just a war machine, just soldiers and conquerors.

It was people.

People like Shoji, who had been used and discarded. People who had suffered just as much as those they fought against.

Aang hesitated, then slowly reached up. His fingers grasped the edges of his hood, and after a moment's pause, he pulled it back. The firelight caught on the blue tattoos that lined his head, the unmistakable mark of an airbender.

Shoji's eyes widened slightly, but he didn't speak. He simply stared, absorbing what this meant, what this truly meant.

Aang met his gaze, steady, unwavering. "I believe you…"