That night, deep beneath the dim lanterns of the Jon hideout, Judgement and Viper squads gathered in a quiet corner of the lower barracks. Makeshift benches surrounded a low table scattered with crumpled maps and half-eaten rations. Steam rose from tin mugs of bitter blackroot tea—Jon's only real export besides minerals.
Hatori stood with arms crossed, posture firm as ever, his voice low but clear.
"Viper Squad," he began, "you'll be rolling with us tomorrow. We're ambushing a convoy just past the tree line in northern Jon. About the only lush thing in this stone-cracked district."
Naru let out a short laugh, adjusting his fingerless gloves. "Surprised you guys found anything up here besides dust and hobbit holes."
Neko leaned back against the stone wall, boots crossed. "Perfect soil for worms. Otherwise? I'd take literally any other district over this dump."
The squads chuckled softly—then grew quiet.
Ringo, arms tucked around his knees, glanced around the group. "I think we can pull this off."
Tsuki looked up from her gloves, still idly adjusting the laces. "We can," she said—then corrected herself, her voice firming. "We will."
Silence settled again, this time warmer.
Then Geo turned slightly, eyes settling on Ringo.
"Hey, Ringo," he asked casually. "Where are you from?"
Ringo blinked, caught mid-sip of tea. His cheeks flushed as every gaze turned toward him.
"M-Me?"
"Yeah," Geo said with a nod. "You."
Ringo let out a soft sigh, setting his mug aside. "Persetta," he said, followed by a slightly awkward silence.
Knoxx kept the spotlight on him. "Persetta, eh? So, how'd you end up with Memento?"
Ringo's fingers fidgeted for a moment before he began.
"Well… as you know, I'm kind of shy. Not great at talking to people..."
Knoxx ripped off a piece of jerky with a loud snap of his teeth. His eyes were among one of eight pairs that remained on the boy. The exception, Makoro of course, who had already fallen asleep.
"We just want to know more about you," Knoxx said between chews. "Simple as that. If you're gonna be with us in a fight, then you're nothing less than family."
Ringo exhaled slowly. His voice dropped, almost as if he were telling the story to the ground.
"Well... I grew up in the Persetta's slums," he said. "One of the worst spots. Homes falling apart, people disappearing in the night. I had both parents… for a while. My mom left when I was nine. She told me she'd come back soon. I waited… but she never did."
His voice cracked for the first time. Tsuki sat forward, listening closely. Oddly, Neko had stopped tapping his foot. His eyes didn't move, but his ears listened.
"After that, it was just me and my dad. He got sick. Bad sick. Couldn't keep food down, could barely stand some days. And still—he gave me everything. Every bite, every scrap. I was grateful then. I thought he was strong. But now… sometimes I feel selfish."
He stopped, swallowing hard.
Ringo looked up, eyes glassy. "He died not long after. Malnutrition. I didn't know what to do. I spent weeks just… rotting in an alley. Too weak to beg. Too tired to move."
The room was completely still.
"And then… he found me. Tona. And a girl named Yuki. They were just passing through, I think, but they stopped when they saw me. Picked me up. Didn't even ask if I was worth saving. They brought me to Memento. Gave me food. A blanket. Introduced me to Maro."
He smiled faintly through the tears that had formed at the edge of his eyes.
"I followed Tona around every chance I got after that. Him and Yuki… they were like older siblings I never had. They taught me things. Real things. Stuff that made the world feel like it could be kind. And I promised myself that day—I would give Memento everything I had. Every bit of me. Because they gave me hope."
Tsuki didn't hesitate. She wrapped an arm around Ringo's shoulders and gave him a firm, comforting squeeze.
"That's incredible," she said softly.
She couldn't help but think: Tona… even in silence, you save lives. Your heart is bigger than anyone knows.
"I'm sorry for your loss," Geo added quietly.
Ringo wiped his eyes. "It's okay. I think… I think my dad would be proud now."
Geo leaned back, arms behind his head, gazing up at the cave ceiling.
"I know what that's like," he said, voice quieter now. "I lost my parents too. But I wasn't abandoned. I was the reason they died."
Everyone turned toward him.
Geo's gaze didn't shift. "I had just awakened my ability. Earthbending. It was unstable—untouched, raw Solena. I had a nightmare one night. I thought it was just a dream… but when I woke up, the house was rubble. I had collapsed the entire foundation. My parents were gone before I even opened my eyes."
No one dared speak. Ringo's eyes widened.
"I ran," Geo continued. "Wandered for days. I was broken—more scared of myself than anything else. And then Maro found me. Gave me a place. Taught me how to breathe again. How to control Solena. He told me: 'Power doesn't make you dangerous. What you do with it does.'"
Geo looked down at Ringo and smiled gently.
"I've served Memento ever since. Not for revenge. Not for guilt. But for the people who still need saving. For the chance to protect instead of destroy."
He paused for a brief moment. "Funny thing is… my family was from here," Geo added. "Jon blood runs deep. My skin—my dad's eyes—I got all of that from this district. They left Jon before I was born, but they never stopped talking about it. About the mines. The cliffs. The people who worked until their hands bled but still sang old songs anyway."
A small, bittersweet smile touched his lips.
"I always thought I'd come here one day. Not like this… but maybe to make something better. For them. For the family that never got the chance."
He reached over and ruffled Ringo's hair.
"Your past doesn't define you, kid. But your future? That's the mark you carve into the world. And if that path breaks, you don't give up. You find a new one."
Ringo wiped his face on his sleeve, trembling.
"Thank you," he said, voice small but sincere. "Really."
Geo held up a thumb. "Don't mention it, kiddo."
Hearing about Geo's life, Tsuki sat forward, and her thoughts wandered.
They've all been through something. Everyone here. Yet, we're here. We're similar... caring. Family.
Around them, the squads slowly leaned back—sobered, reflective. No one said it aloud, but the bond between them had grown.