“You look ridiculous.” Gyatso snorts, and turns to face Roku as he comes up the stairs. It was nice that Roku had decided to come for a visit before finding an Earthbending teacher, it had truly been too long since he’d last seen his friend.
“After all this time apart, this is how you greet your old friend? I thought I knew you better than that, Roku,” He pauses, then looks Roku dead in the eye. “Besides, I think it looks dashing.” It doesn’t really, not yet at least, but it was worth it to see the look on his friends’ face.
“That? Dashing? My friend, I think you may have crashed your glider one time too many. It looks like a feral lemur has taken up residence on your upper lip.” Roku chuckles then, and grins at Gyatso, a boyish beam, the irrepressible glee of two friends reunited.
“It’s good to see you again, regardless of your terrible facial hair.”
Roku throws his arms around Gyatso in a hug, which Gyatso returns enthusiastically. It really is good to see Roku again. Then Roku commits the utter betrayal of tugging his recently grown mustache. Gyatso winces in pain.
Nevermind. Roku can crawl back into whatever hole he’d been learning Waterbending in.
The next time he sees Roku, he’s the one taken aback. Roku had clearly taken inspiration from him, and started to grow his own beard.
But it looks awful!
Was this how Roku had felt about his own mustache? Gyatso feels offended. It wasn’t that bad, was it? There was always an awkward growth period—that was just part of life! Roku’s mustache, however, looked intentionally terrible. The ends were uneven, like it had been carefully manicured into an eyesore...Gyatso’s eyes narrow as he goes to greet his friend.
If that was how he was going to be—it was on.
As the years pass by, their beards become more and more outlandish. First Roku would appear to have the upper hand, then Gyatso would come up with something truly bizarre, and the positions would switch.
The outside world— just the other monks for Gyatso, but quite literally the world for Roku— watches in confusion and astonishment as the two compete. Well, most of the world watches in confusion. The Fire Nation, for some reason, decides to emulate Roku’s strange beards and mustaches.
When Gyatso discovers this, after taking a trip to visit his friend, he’s devastated. There will be no recovery from what he and his friend have inflicted upon the world. Their legacy will be naught but a warning to teenage boys.
Gyatso tells Roku this, and Roku laughs. Then he introduces him to something called ‘mutton chops’, and Gyatso relaxes, secure in the knowledge that the tragic fashion statements he’d seen on the flight weren't the influence of their competition after all. Apparently the Fire Nation just has poor taste.
Roku’s curious advantage makes more sense now. All he has to do is take a look through history books for inspiration.
Gyatso shaves his beard when he hears the news. It’s not much of a competition when there is only one competitor left.
He stops halfway through the process though. His mustache is the only thing that’s left, and every time he raises his razor to it, he sees Roku’s face the first time he saw it. Laughter in his eyes and face, and the sheer delight of seeing a friend again after years spent apart. It’s how he wants to remember his friend, so he leaves it alone.
He can’t see clearly anymore, his vision clogged by tears. His hands are shaking too badly to continue anyway. Long white hair covers the floor, and he’s not sure what he’s supposed to do from here.
Roku is gone. And no matter how the wind howls, there are ashes it cannot reignite.
He supposes that he’ll move on— he is the wind, and the wind is him, and the wind always moves on— but perhaps just for the night he can cradle the shattered fragments of his world close. He’ll let himself hurt, let those fragments dig into his heart and soul, and etch his misery for the world to see.
He can heal tomorrow. For tonight, this grief is his.
The other members of the Council have informed Gyatso that he will be receiving a ward. Gyatso, who has spent the last few months since Roku’s death listening to the wind, and learning to let go, is going to be receiving a ward.
It will be his responsibility to raise the boy, and to train him. Gyatso, who has evaded mentorship as long as he’s been on the Council, is not happy about it. But he agrees to raise the child when the other members of the Council kick up a fuss. He will do his duty.
The baby squalls when he is taken from his mother, and his volume doubles when he is handed to Gyatso. Long, hiccuping sobs ring out, and Gyatso… isn’t sure what he should do at first. He settles on singing a lullaby half-remembered from his own youth, and if he stumbles on some of the lyrics, none of the other monks present seem to notice. The baby’s sobs quiet, then stops, and he begins to laugh.
Then the baby reaches out and tugs the ends of Gyatso’s mustache, a twinkle in his wide eyes. Gyatso realizes then, why he has been given this particular baby to raise, why the other Council members had been so insistent, and tears trickle down his weathered cheeks, and he holds the child close. Love does not die, it is only reborn.
“ Hello again, old friend. ”
Disclaimer: I have nothing against mutton-chops. They just seemed like something that Air Nomads would find unattractive (they shave their head after all).
Am I an unrepentant Gyatso stan? Absolutely. More Gyatso appreciation fics please.