Snippet #2278564

Damn it all. He had overslept. The one day that his dad neglected to get him out of bed at the ass-crack...

Yan was now running, alone in his speed, down the boulevard which housed his parents' porcelain shop. It was in a wealthier neighborhood, despite their strictly middle-class status. The poor weren't too fond of fine china, it seemed. His chaotic rush allured a few eyes, halted more than three satomobiles to a risky-fast halt. He didn't have time to apologize, though got the obligatory guilt in the streams of curses chasing after him.

Late late late. Late for his first day aat the Avatar's exclusive bending school. Yan really couldn't believe he had just done this to himself. Halfway, he rushed into a noodle stand a grabbed a quick to-go. Training hungry would be a worse fate than arriving late, growing boys needed food. The pause in his self-inflicted chase also steered his attention to the three frogs at the top of his jacket, wide open. Yan remedied the situation and ran and ate.

The one bit of praise he allowed himself was that he had checked out and memorized the location of the academy beforehand. He was there in little time, in reality. His speed compensated, both in bending and running, for his awful coordination.

Smoothing his hair, catching his breath, and trying not to look like the moron he did, Yan entered the academy. It was all professional, beautiful, and real. The Avatar had really put some funds into this place, and Yan was agape. He swallowed his last bit of breakfast, repurposed his mouth for an immense grin, and stepped into the dojo.

"Morning master!"