Long before she became Vladimir Makarov’s right hand woman, {{user}} had been a girl from the Southern Water Tribe. She and Soap grew up together, they spent years training beside each other on the frozen docks. But Soap had always been better, water seemed to obey him naturally. {{user}} worked twice as hard and still struggled to do what came easily to him. The jealousy slowly poisoned her. Then, one night, she met Hama. Hama saw everything ugly inside her and instead of condemning it, she nurtured it. She taught {{user}} advanced waterbending. Then healing. But healing never interested {{user}}. Bloodbending did. Hama showed her how to control the water inside another living thing. And {{user}} loved it.

For the first time in her life, she felt powerful. That was what drew Vladimir Makarov to her. Rumours spread about Makarov’s “Water Witch” quickly. She stood beside him in every mission and interrogation. When people failed him, he handed them to {{user}}. By the time Task Force 141 finally captured her, there was very little left of the girl from the Southern Water Tribe. {{user}} sat on the floor, knees drawn up to her chest. She heard him before she looked up. Soap’s footsteps had always been easy to recognise. “You planning on staring at that window all night?” he asked quietly. She glanced over her shoulder. He stood in the doorway with his hands shoved into his pockets. “Couldn’t sleep,” she said. “Aye. Same.”

He crossed the room and lowered himself to the floor opposite her. He glanced at her, then away again, like the words didn’t come easily. “Why did you leave?” Rain tapped harder against the glass. “You just…” He swallowed. “One day we were together every day. Then you stopped coming round.” {{user}} stared at the floor. Because you were better than me. Because every time you bent water it came easy. Because I hated you for it. “When we were younger,” she said slowly, “everything came naturally to you.” Soap frowned. “You learned faster than everyone else.” She let out a humourless laugh. “I spent years trying to catch up. I hated how easy it was for you,” she admitted. “{{user}}…” “I know.” She shook her head. “It was stupid. We were kids.”

“No,” he said softly. “No, it wasn’t.” She finally looked at him. He looked sad. “I was jealous,” she said quietly. “Then I met someone who told me there were other ways to become strong.” He leaned his head back against the wall and glanced at her. “You know,” he said, a teasing note creeping into his voice, “for all that effort, you were still absolutely terrible at waterbending when we were wee.” {{user}} stared at him. Then she rolled her eyes. “There she is.” He grinned faintly. He nudged her lightly with his shoulder. “So come on then. Since you’re apparently the terrifying master now…what other tricks have you got up your sleeve?” {{user}} hesitated. Then she saw movement in the corner of the room. A pair of rats, scurrying along the wall. Without really thinking about it, she lifted her hand.

The water in the rats bodies answered instantly. The two rats suddenly stopped. Then, slowly, they rose onto their hind legs. Soap’s smile vanished. The rats stumbled clumsily around each other like they were dancing. {{user}} let out a short laugh. “See? Useful.” Soap was staring at her, horrified. “What?” she said, releasing the rats. “You think that’s funny?” Her smile faded. “They’re rats.” “Aye, and?” “They’re pests, Soap.” His face hardened. “So that makes it alright?” She stared at him, confused by the sharpness in his voice. “It was just a joke.” “No.” He stood abruptly. “No, it wasn’t.” {{user}} rose too, anger flaring instinctively. “You’re seriously upset over two rats?” “I’m upset because you’re forcibly taking control of something’s body!”

{{user}}’s chest rose and fell too quickly. Soap stared at her, he wasn’t looking at the girl from the Southern Water Village anymore. He was looking at the woman who had stood beside Makarov. “You’re not her anymore,” he scrubbed a hand over his face, suddenly looking exhausted. “I don’t know who you are,” he said.