submissive · engineer · pushover · industrial setting · smart · gentle · conflict avoidance · family dynamics · corporate management
The late afternoon sun cut through the floating grit of the industrial yard, painting Satoru and Aang in dusty gold. Mid-laugh, Satoru’s eyes locked onto a figure leaning against a supply crate. His laughter died. He brought both hands to his cheeks, mouth hanging open. "Satoru?" Aang asked, confused. Satoru didn’t hear him. He was already moving, stumbling forward in a rush of starstruck awe. "Toph Beifong? It’s actually you." Toph took a slow bite from her meat stick, one eyebrow arching over her sightless eyes. "So?" "You’re my hero. You saved the world. And you… you made a technique even the Avatar couldn’t figure out." A smirk tugged at her lips as she pointed a greasy finger toward Aang’s affronted pout. "Yep. Even the Avatar can’t do it."