"Hey," says Jun. He looks... fretful. Fretful is not a normal look on Jun.

"Hi. What's on your mind?"

"A whole lot of trouble," he sighs. "Okay. Do people ever - tell you things they happen to know about crimes? Either in your capacity as the Avatar or in your capacity as a close relative of the chief of police?"

"Some of both. I usually pass them on to Chali, although one time some lady stopped me on the street because her purse had been stolen a minute previously and I iced the guy's feet, that kind of thing."

"Sure," he says. "In that case, I have something for you to pass on. You know that firebender who was on the news, attempted kidnapper, suspected murderer, burned out a liquor store fleeing from the police? I recognized his training. There wasn't a lot to go on, but I'm very familiar with the style. I looked it up; the man I'm thinking of died three years ago, in his house on Ember Island in the Fire Nation. Apparent suicide. They suspected his second son of having killed him and run off - practically a family tradition; the first son set the house on fire and ran off twenty years earlier - but they couldn't find anybody who'd admit to having met the kid, and the evidence for suicide was pretty strong, so they gave up the search. I'm pretty sure the guy on the news is that second son."

"His name's Sora Oshiro, he was born on the sixteenth of Rain in 594, and that's as much as anybody knows about him because after that he was apparently raised in total isolation by his father." He sighs. "Except I have a few guesses to make about what that was like, because the first son was me, and trust me, setting the house on fire and running was a pretty reasonable response to my dad's idea of parenting. Dad wasn't a firebending teacher, he never just took students; I knew as soon as I saw the video, the only way anybody else could be running around with his exact bending style was if he'd had another kid. So I did a search and there it was. I'd... really rather my part in this story didn't hit the news, at least not with any connection to me. If a bunch of people start wanting to talk to me about my dad, I am going to have to abruptly retire and go be an anonymous hermit somewhere. But I'm willing to tell you if it'll help get this guy found."

"I'll talk to Chali. He... shouldn't pester you, I think. I should perhaps go talk to him soonest rather than have this lesson. You don't look in the mood anyway."

"Good catch," he says, with a wry smile. "Sorry."

"I don't blame you a bit." She pulls out a chordpress and her portable screen and writes down the details. "Anything else?"

"It's likely that he has a lot of burn scars. None of mine were in highly visible places, but since records seem to imply that my little brother was literally never allowed out of the house where strangers might see him, the same might not hold true for him."

She chords in characters grimly. "And probably looks somewhat like you, I guess, although I'll want to render that in other terms for the police department in general. Anything else? I bet you don't want to have to have this conversation twice, so."

"I'm pretty unlikely to go after him myself, but if I do it'll be because something more involved than a firebender serial killer is going on and in that case I'd probably appreciate the support."

Jun nods.

Free time and no plans with Beila means woodcarving in the park. Highly preferable to sitting at home; the park is nice and the weather's good. So Dao sits and makes necklace charms, little wooden this-or-thats arranged suitably to be strung on strings. He wants to make a little roc that is not just any little roc but a little Liqing in particular, and it's hard, but it's the fun kind. When his failure to portray the particularness of his girlfriend's bird starts getting to him, he takes a break and makes little ottercats and ferretsnakes and lizard crows and flying lemurs.

Someone sits down next to him on the park bench.

The stranger is not, actually, sitting too close - he's perched on the far end, a perfectly reasonable strangers-sharing-a-park-bench distance - but Dao is uncomfortable anyway.

He doesn't do anything, just sits and looks at the trees and the sky.

The stranger peacefully enjoys this lovely afternoon in the park.

"It's a nice day, isn't it?" the stranger says quietly.

"...Pardon?" says the stranger.

The stranger is smiling at him.

That smile hits him like a bucket of ice water to the face. Instant chills. Before he consciously catches up with the situation he's already trying to reach for his bag, but now his body just plain won't move, and he finally clues in. Bloodbender. Actual real live bloodbender. Oh, fuck.

He nods, and stands up, and offers Dao a hand to help him to his feet.

Dao finds himself taking it, finds himself picking up his bag with his free hand, standing gracefully, following the stranger away from the bench. It's not like in the movies; he doesn't jerk around stiffly like someone who is obviously being bloodbent. He's only clumsy when he struggles. He manages to stumble and fall, trying his hardest to resist the imposed movements.

The stranger just catches him, 'helps' steady him again, and keeps leading him away from the park bench.

They make their way to a car. They get in. The stranger directs it to take them somewhere.

Dao tries to come up with some more animal trivia, and of course his mind immediately goes blank. He struggles with himself for a moment, then blurts out, "Why are you kidnapping me?"

"Art."

"Do you like spiders?"

"I like spiders," says the bloodbender. "They're small, but dangerous."

"Not as dangerous as most people think," Dao feels compelled to point out. "They have a bad reputation but even the scary ones are mostly pretty harmless."

"That's... true," the bloodbender admits. "Public perception matters too, though."

"I'll bet it matters a lot to the spiders who keep getting squashed because somebody was scared of them who shouldn't have been," says Dao.

The bloodbender looks at him strangely.

He sits there feeling awkward for a few more seconds and then says, "Could you, like, not kidnap me?"

"Oh, of course, I never thought of that, I'll let you go right away," the bloodbender says dryly.

Dao rolls his eyes.

"To answer your question more seriously: you've seen my face, talked to me. I don't think letting you go at this point would be conducive to my continued freedom."

"I dunno," says Dao. "You let me go, I don't tell anybody about you, seems like a fair deal to me."

"And you suggest I trust you because...?"

"Well, between the two of us, I'm not the one who just kidnapped somebody."

"Proves nothing."

"So why are you even letting me talk at all? Do you just really like random animal facts?"

"Good question," says the bloodbender.

And Dao finds that all of a sudden he can't move his mouth anymore. Fuck.

"Art," says the bloodbender, from somewhere behind him.

He shudders. "You're the - but - weren't you a firebender? Are there two of you?"

"I think I'll let that stay a mystery for now," he says.

"I hardly think you're in the best position to make unbiased recommendations."

He considers this assertion, and then starts giggling hysterically.

"What do you mean?" he murmurs.

"I mean you're acting like the only reason I'm trying to convince you to stop kidnapping people and making statues out of their bones is because I don't want to be art materials, and it's not. I'm - you're not the only artist in the room," he says, and somewhere in the middle of that last phrase his voice turns soft and tentative.

"...Go on," says the bloodbender. As far as it's possible to tell from tone of voice alone, he seems to have caught on that Dao isn't talking about woodcarving.

There is a long silence.

Dao gets increasingly nervous as it goes on, but he waits it out. Not like there's much else he can do.

Eventually, very softly: "I killed my father."

...He can't think of a response to that.

There is another, shorter silence, and then the not-quite-perfectly-concealed sound of quick steps leaving the room.

He is left alone all evening and all night and into the following morning.

And now he can talk. "Sure, fine, I can't prove anything, but come on, if I was lying wouldn't I come up with nicer lies? 'Hey so I thought about stabbing you', not exactly the kind of thing people say when they're trying to win somebody over!"

"Maybe you're not a very good liar."

"Okay," he says. "Okay." He wishes he didn't have to do this while hungry and tired and uncomfortable and slightly in need of a bathroom, but he's just going to have to deal. "How about I just talk for a while, and then you tell me if you still think I'm lying."

"Is the art project helping you?" he asks, hoarse-voiced and more aggressive than he meant to be.

"...it was supposed to," the bloodbender says quietly.

He tries to make his voice softer, more gentle. "But it's not. Is it."

Silence.

"Then, I mean - I don't," sniffle, "I don't want to be that guy with the stupid obvious question, but why are you still doing it?"

"I don't know."

A somewhat longer silence.

He gradually gets control of the lingering sniffles. His throat hurts from crying. He doesn't say anything else.

Dao waits a second to see if more words are coming, and when it doesn't look like it, he says, "I really honestly want to give you a hug right now."

"...why," he whispers.

"Because that sounds awful, and - I think I kind of get it, and, just, here I was thinking I had it bad..."

"I—I still can't let you go," he says, sounding agitated. "You'd tell someone—you would, and they'd find me, and I wouldn't—be safe—everyone would know—"

"Man, forget about letting me go, okay, we've got time to figure that part out, I guarantee you nobody's even noticed I went anywhere yet," he says. "Do you want a hug? Because if you let me out of this chair, I will give you a hug, and I will not try to run away, and even if I did you are a terrifyingly skilled bloodbender and could stop me anyway."

Dao rubs his stiff arms, and... hesitates. "Is it okay if I turn around?"

A pause. Then, quietly, "Yes."

"Okay," he says. Slowly, trying not to make sudden movements, he gets out of the chair and turns around to look behind it.

The bloodbender is crouched on the floor in the chair's shadow, shivering, not looking up.

Dao steps around the chair and sits on the floor next to it, and holds out his arms.

For someone almost as tall as Dao, the bloodbender can make himself astonishingly tiny. He leans into Dao's lap and curls up into a little shivering ball of person.

Dao hugs him, and murmurs soothing meaningless syllables, and feels very very strange about this turn his life has taken. But. This guy clearly needed a hug. He needs like an entire lifetime of hugs. Dao appreciates the value of hugs on a very deep level. He can hug the terrified serial killer.

The terrified serial killer is now crying on him.

That's, yeah, that is not a huge surprise.

He may be a while.

That's... mostly fine. But Dao feels kind of dizzy and sleepy, and isn't sure how long he can avoid falling asleep.

Before that can come to pass, he uncurls and moves away.

Dao lets go immediately.

"...I want to trust you," he says, very very quietly. "I want to. If... will you promise you won't try to run away, or tell anyone you're here, or anything?"

"Yes, sure, of course," says Dao. "I promise."

"How do I know you aren't just saying that?" he says helplessly.

"Honestly, right now, as long as I'm pretty sure you're not going to kill me in the next like couple of days, which I am, I want to be here more than I want to be running away. I want to actually help you, I don't want to get you arrested. You don't - I, like - if I was the one who was going around ripping people's bones out and you were the one who was - talking to me about it, I'd rather you actually talked to me and didn't run off and call the cops, you know?"

"Okay," says Dao. "So. Um. If I'm not going to be tied to a chair the entire time I'm here, can I like - have breakfast, and maybe a nap somewhere with less," he gestures at the sculpture looming over them, "giant bone spider?"

He smiles a tiny barely-there flicker of a smile. "Yes. Okay."

Dao climbs to his feet, leaning on the chair. This makes him feel even dizzier, and when he lets go of the chair he sways a little and almost falls over.

But doesn't.

"Go on upstairs," says the bloodbender.

So Dao goes upstairs. With the bone-stealing serial killer walking silently behind him. Which on the one hand is totally unfair and not something any reasonable person should have to do, and on the other hand, he's pretty sure he's genuinely less scared of this guy than this guy is of him.

It's a small house, and every curtain or shutter on every window is firmly closed with only a tiny bit of morning sunlight leaking in around the edges, and the furniture is sparse and not well-organized. It looks... lonely and sad.

"...you can call me Spider," he says hesitantly.

"The kitchen's over here. Sorry I don't... have very much."

"It's okay," says Dao. "I mean, you weren't exactly expecting guests..."

Spider stands uncertainly in the doorway and watches him.

It's creepy and weird but, when he considers what he knows about Spider, also perfectly understandable. Unfortunately that doesn't tell him what to do about it. He finishes eating and asks, "Is there somewhere I can sleep...?"

"Yes." There is, rather inexplicably considering Spider's blatant and extreme discomfort with other people, an impeccably tidy little guest room.

Spider knocks on the door.

Dao gets up and opens it. "Hi," he says, awkwardly.

Hesitantly: "I made lunch."

Well, aren't they a pair. Dao smiles. "Thanks."

He smiles a small and slightly heartbreaking smile at 'optional hugs'. "Yes."

They do that. Spider doesn't quite collapse into a small miserable lump, but he does lean on Dao quite a bit.

"So... it occurs to me that like, nobody's caught you yet," says Dao. "So if you just stopped murdering people, they'd have a pretty hard time catching up to you, especially if you left the city and moved somewhere way far away and, I dunno, changed your name in case they find weird stuff in your basement after you leave, or whatever. Even if you don't trust me not to go to the cops over you, it still works, it's not like I have magic powers and can tell them where you decided to move to, you know?"

"I mean, the first thing you tried is 'being a serial killer', I wouldn't give up just yet if I were you," says Dao, smiling a little.

Spider giggles softly. "Yes. Okay, yes. But. But what else do I try?"

"N-no..." he says. "No. It was like that for me at first too. When I practiced on animals. But I had to get it right before I could use it, so I practiced more."

"Okay," says Dao. "I stand by my 'some kind of waterbending genius' assessment, then. Like, I'm not a bender, but I have, you know, met some."

"There really aren't any... good uses for bloodbending, though," murmurs Spider.

"No, admittedly, but like. Who says bloodbending has to be the only thing you know?"

"...it isn't," he murmurs. "I know... combat waterbending, too. A lot of it. But I don't want to - do that."

"Okay, so don't," says Dao. "Learn new things. Be - be a healer, that's like the exact opposite of a serial killer, right, it's like the most obviously good thing bending can do, I bet you'd be great at it, why not?"

"...maybe," Spider says softly.

Hug.

"I... I never... I wasn't allowed," he murmurs. "To learn healing."

"You mean by your dad," says Dao. "Who is dead. Which I think means he pretty conclusively doesn't get any more input into your life. Right?"

He smiles hesitantly. "Right."

"So! Learn healing, be a healer, see if it helps."

"...if I leave the city, though... and it doesn't help... you won't be around to help me think of more things," Spider says consideringly.

"I can help you think of a bunch more things now in case that doesn't work," he offers. "And. And, I don't know - you could try it. Healing, I mean. Like. Right now."

...Spider looks at him.

"I mean, it can't be that hard, right, and you seem like you're really smart and good at waterbending, so you can probably figure it out, and - I don't - I don't mind if you practice on me," says Dao. "To learn how and find out if you like it or not."

Spider looks very conflicted, and then he nods slowly. "Okay. I know - I know a little bit. About how it's supposed to work. I've just. Never tried. But is it - is it really okay, I mean - I'd have to hurt you, to practice healing on you. And I. I don't want to hurt you."

"It's fine," Dao assures him. "Totally fine."

"Okay," murmurs Spider. He still looks slightly doubtful, but he gets up and goes and fetches a bowl of water and comes back.

Dao offers his hand, for practicing on.

Dao doesn't flinch.

"Yeah, of course," says Dao. He is very hopeful about the implications of that look.

Dao hugs back. "Hey, good, that's good," he says; he can guess what it's better than. "I'm glad."

After a moment, Spider clarifies anyway. "It's better than killing people because - because I feel okay and I'm not hurting anyone - why couldn't I have thought of this first..."

"You've thought of it now," says Dao. "So now you can do it. Okay?"

He nods. There is maybe a quiet sniffle.

Hey, if more hugs and crying is what this situation needs, Dao is there for it.