Katara expected a lot of things from Nanashi. As her pupil, she knew she was supposed to be light on her feet, questioning everything and able to adapt her fighting style when needed. If Nanashi had come in here and scolded her for being weak, it would have slightly angered Katara but she would have understood.

What she hadn't expected was the soft touch, the reassurance, the gentleness that made Katara cry harder. She associated that with a mother, and thinking of THAT opened up a can of worms in Katara: her mother gone, her father at war, her brother repodded. This insane cycle that ended with her alone, grasping for a kind of normalcy that the ship took fr5om her at will.

Without meaning to, she hugged her teacher tight, very grateful for her presence right now.