Lunch at work was always a quiet affair. On a normal day, Charumati would have created a box lunch the night before. It would have been a two-tiered affair: the top box, filled with rolled omelette and seaweed-wrapped rice balls filled with salmon, carefully stacked atop the second box, which was filled with rice and some sort of protein — green curry, perhaps, or shrimp tempura. She would then bring the box to work, wrapped in lovely patterned pastel cloth. Come lunch, she'd carefully unwrap her food and eat at her desk.

Unfortunately, her outing the previous night had severely cut into her lunch prep time and Charu was forced to purchase her food from the workplace cafeteria.

Standing sedately in line, well aware of the looks of surprise (she was no stranger to the office gossip about her reclusivity), the tall woman chose instead to focus on her task. She picked up a few meagre portions — a bowl of rice, a plate of fried mackerel, a small bowl of miso soup — and made her way down the line. Right before the cash box was a dessert section: only one serving of chocolate pudding was available, a small dollop of whipped cream resting on top of it. Feeling it would be a good way to wrap up an otherwise lacklustre lunch, she reached for — only to bump hands with the person in front of her.

Sorry about that! a rather small (from her perspective, anyway) brunette girl said. Why don't you go ahead?

Charumati inclined her head slightly in acquiescence. "Thank you," she said in her quiet way, adding the pudding to her tray. The girl looked vaguely familiar... perhaps one of the editors' assistants? Admittedly, she wasn't familiar with her co-workers, as she reported directly to the editor with her column.

"You're Charumati, right? It looks kind of crowded. Why don’t you sit with me? I don’t bite, I promise.”

The taller woman paused. Honestly what she'd really rather do was return to her desk and eat, but she had a personal rule that at work, she would do her best to interact with co-workers of all bending abilities. It was essential for keeping her cover when she was an Equalist, and even more essential now that — well, nevermind that.

“I love your column by the way. Just wonderful.” She gave her a small smile. “Anyway, come and sit with me, please.”

Charu smiled ever so slightly. This tiny little lady was braver than most of the men in the office. Not that she was particularly interested in male companionship (or any companionship for that matter), but most men were intimidated by her height, her looks, and her age. Invitations to lunch were generally thin on the ground.

"That sounds lovely," she said, following the young woman to an empty table. She pulled out a chair, smoothing her grey skirt as she sat. Her pastel mint top went well with a small mint pin holding her hair back. If one had the bravery to look at the hair pin more closely, they'd notice it was of a silly-looking frog's head with googly eyes.

Snapping apart the provided bamboo chopsticks, Charumati was pleasantly surprised to find that the cafeteria meal was not as horrible as she had expected. The mackerel skin was crisp, if a little bland, and the miso soup was obviously prefabricated but there were chopped scallions in a bowl on the table, which Charu generously added to the broth. She sat in silence for a while, contemplating her next words as she chewed.

"I feel like I have seen you before," she told the young woman, "but I can't say that I know your name."

Akane was pleased to see that her coworker had decided to sit down with her. She enjoyed talking to people, and while she had seen Charumati around, they didn’t know each other and hadn’t talked. There was absolutely nothing wrong with meeting and socializing with new people. It was always that she loved to, and had ever since she was younger. Especially since she had spent her childhood without any close friends. She had spent most of her time training. That meant that now she wanted to talk to people when she had the chance.

Akane still spent a lot of time working or training, and when she wasn’t she was at home with Akira. That was and well and great, and Akira was the closest thing to a best friend that she ever had, but it wasn’t new. It wasn’t exciting, and it didn’t help her grow as a person, either.

Akane took her chopsticks and started to eat. The food was the same as always, and she gave no thought to the taste or flavor she ate. She heard her meal companion ask her a question, and she looked up at her and smiled. “My name is Akane,” she said, as she paused her meal momentarily. “I’m the secretary in the Probending department. Of course, we’re not in the same department, but the editor is always sending me running around here and there for something or other.”

Akane shrugged and waved her chopsticks a bit as she talked, before beginning to eat once more. She was glad that Charumati seemed to at least trying to be friendly. She didn’t have the best reputation in the newspaper; most people seemed to be intimidated by her. That didn’t bother the Waterbender at all. She didn’t pay attention to any of it. None of that mattered to her. They were just having lunch, anyway.

"It's nice to meet you, Akane."

Charumati took a few more bites in silence. She wasn't exactly the chatty type, for the most part. Sure, just like anyone else she had her passions and once you got her going she found it quite difficult to stop. She thought back to that morning's chance encounter specifically. She hadn't meant to use the time to soapbox to a young girl, but she had asked all the right questions.

The lunch, despite not tasting terribly, was dreadfully lacking in substance. She glanced at the prices again, listed on a chalkboard above the food station. For the total price of her original purchase and the seconds she was contemplating, she could have made four lunches at home. What a crock.

A small group of people passed by their table, surprise clearly etched in every muscle in their faces. Charumati looked up at them blandly, her expression impassive. They hurried away, bursting into hushed whispers when they were safely out of arm's reach. Charu took a look around the cafeteria; all eyes were on her and Akane. Most were sneaking furtive glances, though some were staring openly. She stifled her urge to roll her eyes.

Charumati gave Akane a rare smile for her indignation. The amount of staring really was quite unnecessary, even if this was an event as momentous as spotting the legendary Wa Shi Tong library. She chuckled to herself.

Akane asked her what got her started writing, and Charumati could have sworn she detected a small hint of suppressed eagerness. Akane wasn't the first person to ask this of her today; then again, today seemed to be the day for making new acquaintances.

"Luck, mostly. I worked in the warehouses, and one of the editors heard me giving some advice to another worker. I was able to read and write, which wasn't as widespread back then as it is now, and they offered me a job. I don't think anyone expected it to last this long though."

She crunched on the mackerel skin for a few moments before eyeing Akane shrewdly. "Interested in a new career direction?" she asked.

Charu felt her cheek twitch a little. Probending was a sore spot for her. One the one hand, there was absolutely nothing wrong with benders using their inherent abilities for sport. In fact, she felt it was a very good use of their time — young benders with probending aspirations tended to stay out of trouble, idolising the likes of the Fire Ferrets' Mako and Bolin, two street urchins who had broken ties with the Triads.

At the same time, it was one of the most exclusionary things to have ever existed. The national pasttime of the Fifth Nation was by its very nature biased against nonbenders. No matter how physically skilled or able a nonbender might be, the sport was explicitly designed to require players to be able to bend earth, fire, or water. What could someone born without these abilities do? It wasn't as if it were like the powerplant, where firebenders contributed to the whole city using their given gifts and nonbenders were able to contribute by fixing the machinery and doing all the tasks that did not require a bending ability. Probending, pure and simple, had no place for nonbenders.

None of that, however, was Akane's fault. So she willed her cheek still. "Being a secretary is good work, though," she reminded Akane gently. "It's stable, and these skills can allow you to move on to more prolific companies or to start your own business. I think we could all use some stability in these troubled times."

Charumati's food was done by now, so she piled up her dishes and pushed them aside, sipping slowly out of a glass of iced water.

"But I can understand not wanting to stay stagnant." She swirled the water around in her glass, the ice making a gentle clinking sound. "Writing can easily get just as routine and stuffy. If you want to be a writer you need to stand out, bring something fresh to the table that other applicants wouldn't think of." Charumati then laughed softly, "Listen to me, telling you to bring something fresh to the table as if I didn't get my own job by sheer luck and circumstance."

She took another sip. "More seriously though, why stop at sports writer? Why not become an analyst? As a probender you'd have a unique insight to more than just what people see in the games. Wouldn't it be boring to just essentially recap the game's events week in and week out?"

Charu drained the remnants of her glass. As pleasant as the conversation was, she was not one to linger over the table when her meal was through. She piled her dishes off to one side for the cafeteria busboy service to handle. Standing, she extended a calloused hand to Akane.

"It was nice to meet you, Akane," she said pleasantly. "I'm afraid I have to be getting back to my desk. Perhaps I will see you around the office." She paused, then added, "I'm sure you know where my desk is — I'd love to hear what you wound up deciding regarding your writing goals. I may be able to speak to the editors for you, if you are interested."

After Akane responded, Charumati gave a polite little bow and made her way out of the cafeteria, ignoring the subtle (and not so subtle) glances in her direction. Akane wasn't an unpleasant person to talk to, but Charumati resolved to be sure to eat at her desk from here on out. The cafeteria was too much of a hassle.