Meanwhile, Zuko and Kouji had gone to a separate part of the stream. The prince pulled off his shirt, then slid into the water to try and rinse off the worst of the blood. He’d forgotten about the bandage, which loosened and drifted off him in the mild current.

Kouji splashed quickly after it and swam back to Zuko, where he got a good look at Zuko’s wound and nearly dropped the cloth he’d caught. “Oh my…”

“What?” Zuko said, sharper than he intended, due to pain.

Kouji tried to hide a flinch and wordlessly offered the bandage to the prince. He wrung it out, releasing a stream of reddish water, then replaced it, being sure to tie it tighter this time. The boy hesitated, then quietly offered, “Maybe you should see Katara…”

“I’m fine. There’s no need to bother her.”

He did not look convinced, but nodded and subsided, possibly fearing another snap. At the look on the kid’s face, Zuko felt an all-too-familiar stirring of guilt. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“You had a long night,” was all Kouji would say to that, passing Zuko some sand to help get the blood off.

“…yeah,” the older boy finally conceded, after a long moment, then resumed trying to get the blood out of his clothes.

The colonist did what he could to help where Zuko would let him; it was plain the boy liked being useful, prisoner or not. “All right, I think I got all the blood I can,” Zuko said, regretfully, after about a half-hour of scrubbing.

Kouji eyed it critically. “…you’re gonna need new clothes,” he said at last. “Teo too, prolly.”

“Yeah,” he replied.

Kouji daringly grinned at him, then ducked under the water, plainly having decided that since he was wet from the shoulders down anyway, he might as well get clean too. Zuko gave a tiny smile back, and made his way back towards the shore. Kouji waited a minute longer, then followed the prince with possibly more splashing than was strictly necessary.

Zuko squeezed more bloody water out of his hair, then collected the (relatively) clean shirt he’d left for himself and pulled it back on. “Ready to go back?”

Kouji nodded, perhaps a bit reluctantly, and waded ashore, dripping wet and apparently not caring too much. Then again, it was a hot day. Moving at least slightly less stiffly than he had before, the prince led the way back to the campsite.

Haru was there, talking softly with the private, who looked rather sleepy. Kouji couldn’t make out what the two men were saying, but the concern on Haru’s face was obvious. Maybe he was just doing it to further avoid Katara, but Zuko decided to be less antisocial and sat down next to Haru and the private.

It took the young man a moment to notice Zuko, but when he did, he tried to salute and nearly fell backwards; only a quick grab from Haru spared him the indignity of landing on his back and possibly hitting his head again. The earthbender then proceeded to lecture him about sudden movements; the private listened, nodded, then dryly said, “Yes, mom.”

Zuko gave a tiny, wry smile. “I guess you’re doing better, then.”

“Naw, pain makes me sarcastic,” he said cheerfully.

“At least you’re coherent.”

“For now,” muttered Haru. “Zuko, kid, will you watch him for me? I’m due in for a bath myself. And sleep.”

“Sure,” the younger man replied, even though he would probably do better to pass out and let Katara clean him up.

“Thanks.” The prettyboy rose to his feet and headed in the direction of the stream; the private watched him go.

“He fusses like an old woman,” he noted.

“He probably feels guilty. He was probably the one who hit you,” Zuko pointed out.

“Which time?” came the dry response. “I seem to remember taking more than one.”

He shrugged, and barely managed to keep from wincing. “Doesn’t matter. He contributed, therefore, guilt.”

“…you people are strange.”

“What?”

A shrug. “Worrying about enemies. Or at least the people who attacked you,” he conceded, noting Zuko’s wince. “Not that I’m complaining about it, mind.” He fiddled with the belt that hung loosely around his hips and sighed.

“Well, you’re with us, even as a prisoner. Which means we’re responsible for you.”

“I don’t think many of my fellow soldiers would take that view.” Then he grinned. “Of course, I’m a Li, which is all the difference.”

Kouji blinked. “What does your family have to do with it?”

“Old military family,” Zuko answered for the private.

“Older than his, even,” the soldier agreed cheerfully, and wobbled. “Whoa.”

“Don’t move too much,” the prince said, somewhat absently, focusing on the pain in his side to keep himself from blacking out.

“Yessir. Whoa.”

Frowning, Kouji wandered a small distance and came back with a couple packs, which he then built up into a back rest for the soldier, who thanked him cheerfully and ruffled his hair.

Zuko smiled faintly at the eleven-year-old’s somewhat annoyed expression, then returned to focusing on keeping himself awake. After all, if he blacked out, he couldn’t very well keep an eye on Li Shang.

Teo returned soon after, dry as a bone, with Katara behind him. Zuko pretended not to notice. Teo wheeled past the trio of Fire Nation youngsters, making right for the food which he then tore into hungrily.

Katara followed, frowned a little, and bent the water out of their hair and clothes.

Startled, Kouji yelped and whirled, then looked sheepish and murmured, “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, smiling.

“Hey, healer-type person,” said Shang. “Do I get to sleep tonight?”

She knelt next to him, checked his eyes, felt for the lump on his head, and did other examinatory things. “All right, you can sleep tonight. But we’re going to keep waking you up, just to make sure.”

The soldier made an annoyed noise. “Spirits, I wish I was at Coastline Base.”

“Coastline Base?” Katara asked, puzzled.

He nodded, swore, and explained, “They keep a healer there.”

“…Where is this base?” she asked.

“I’m not allowed to say,” he replied, leaning forward, nearly falling off his seat, and starting to draw a map in the dirt.

“…That’s not far from here,” she mused. “Hang on.” She stood up and went to confer with Aang and her brother.

Groaning, Shang tried to sit up and had to be hauled upright by Kouji, who had a fairly awed expression on his face. Zuko pushed himself to his feet at the same time, swayed a little, then steadied himself.

“Should you be…?” Kouji started, trailing off.

“I’m fine,” the prince insisted, wearily.

“Where are you going, then?”

“Nowhere.”

“‘Kay.”

Teo wheeled by then, pushing food into Zuko’s hand. “Eat,” he instructed.

“Not hungry,” he replied.

“That wasn’t a request. We both missed dinner last night. Eat.”

Zuko shook his head, and had to steady himself. Apparently, he’d miscalculated the blood he’d lost. The paraplegic glared at him. “You need food.”

“I don’t want it.”

“I said ‘need’, not ‘want’.”

“I heard you.”

Teo glared at him. “Eat, or I’ll set Katara on you.”

“She’s busy. And I’m fine, there’s no need to bother her.”

“You got gored by a rhino!”

“Yes, I know that. I was there,” he replied, dryly.

“That is not ‘fine’.”

“If I can function, that means I’m fine.”

“…you spent three years with the Dragon of the West and you think this?” Shang asked suddenly.

Zuko flinched a little, and didn’t respond to that.

“This is because our royal pain is an idiot,” said Haru, joining them and wringing water from his hair. The aforementioned royal pain counted to ten several times and restrained himself from rising to the bait.

Haru just grinned and wandered over to where Katara was plotting with Aang. The two of them, together with Sokka, were putting finishing touches on plans to raid Coastline Base. He blinked. “…why are we raiding a Fire Nation base?”

“Because, according to Li, there’s a healer there who might be able to help him,” Katara said.

“…ah. I see. Will you need me for this one?”

“Any help is good,” Sokka told him. “We don’t know how many soldiers are there.”

A nod. “When are we leaving?”

“Soon. In an hour or so, probably.”

Haru nodded and stretched. “Are we all going? Well, presumably not, someone’s gotta babysit Li and the kid.”

“Zuko’s probably going to stay, unless he suddenly decides he wants to help raid the base,” Aang said.

“He should stay,” Haru said quietly. “So should Teo, frankly. They’re both exhausted.”

“That, too,” the Avatar agreed.

“And Toph and the Duke?”

Sokka shrugged. “Again, we could probably use all the help we can get. On the other hand, it’s probably smart to leave at least one person in good condition to babysit the prisoners.

“So it’ll come down to a diceroll, then?”

“Pretty much.”

Haru sighed. “Want me to go get them?”

“Sure,” Aang said.

Haru nodded and left to track down Toph and the Duke. The two of them weren’t far away, playing hide and seek.

This did not give Toph quite the advantage one would think, since the Duke kept hiding in trees, where she refused to climb up and tag him.

“Toph, the Duke?” called Haru. “Playtime’s done. It’s serious business time now.”

“‘Kay,” the Duke said, and slid down his tree.

“What’s up?” Toph asked.

“Rescue mission,” Haru explained, leading them back to the camp. “Soldier-boy needs a healer, and Zuko does too. Turns out the Fire Nation has one nearby.”

“Katara’s a healer,” the Duke pointed out.

“Yes, but she already said she can’t do anything for head injuries.”

“Oh, right.”

“We’re gonna roll a dice to see who gets to babysit the fire trio,” Haru added as they joined the rest of the group.

Toph made a face, and the Duke didn’t look happy with the idea either, but neither complained out loud. At least this way it was fair. Each of them chose a number, a die was quickly made by Toph.

Haru’s number came up, and he groaned. “Looks like I lose.”

“Sorry, Haru,” Katara said.

“Ah, well. Good luck with your raid.”

“Thanks,” she said, and she and the other raiders set off.

Leilani lay on her back and stared up at the ceiling of her small room, bored out of her mind. She hadn’t had much to do since the fall of Ba Sing Se. and a number of the soldiers at the base were looking forward to being recalled home after the comet passed and the war finally ended.

Then the ground rattled, and the soldiers started shouting. There were sounds of fighting and explosions — whatever was going on, it wasn’t going to be boring much longer. Blue eyes wide, Leilani got up and walked to the locked door, wishing idly that it was an actual cell so she could see what was going on.

After a few minutes the door was broken open. On the other side was a dark girl, about a year younger than Leilani. “Oh! Hi!”

Leilani blinked a few times, uncertain of the protocol in this situation. “Um… hi?”

“Um, are you the healer?” the younger girl asked, a little awkwardly.

“…yes?”

“Oh, good,” she said, relieved. “Because there’s someone back at our campsite and I can’t fix head injuries, but he said you could, which is sort of the reason we came for you. Not that we wouldn’t come for you otherwise, if we knew but… look, could you just come with me? Please.”

Unexpectedly, Leilani shied away. “I— I can’t, I’ll get in trouble…”

“Don’t worry,” the younger girl assured her. “We’ll protect you.”

Not-quite-fear of her captors warred with her desire to help, and at last she nodded. “All right…”

The younger girl offered her a hand. “Here.”

Hesitantly, Leilani accepted, following the other healer out of her cell.

“I found her, let’s go!” she called to four other people — one other girl and three boys — who were stalling the soldiers while she’d gone to find the healer. Together, they all fled the base, to a giant fluffy beast. “Here, climb on,” the oldest of the boys said, offering her his hand.

Leilani was apprehensive about this mode of travel, but she nevertheless accepted the hand, thanking him quietly as he pulled her on.

“No problem,” he said, grinning at her.

“Appa, yip yip!” the middle boy said, and the beast moaned and took off.

Leilani shrieked in startled surprise and latched onto the boy who had helped her onto the animal, hiding her face in his shirt. The older of the two other girls called something teasingly over at him, but whatever it was and whatever he replied was lost in the wind and the fact that she had her head buried in his chest.

Fortunately, the ride was short — over in about ten minutes, and the nice boy helped her down and led her over to a soldier not that much older than she was. She was surprised to find that her patient was also Fire Nation, and reasoned that maybe Shing wouldn’t be angry with her because of it. She removed the bandage and inspected the wound, made a face, and asked for water.

It was brought to her right away, and she focused completely on her task. While she worked on the concussion, the young man who’d been watching after him found a soft piece of ground and stretched out, where he promptly fell asleep.

The other young man who was supposed to have been watching him was still stubbornly clinging to consciousness, sitting leaning against a tree, watching her. The work was very slow going – working remotely was tricky enough as it was, and the fact that it was a head wound made it all the more difficult – but after three hours Leilani dropped her hands and leaned to the side. “Done,” she murmured.

“Thank you,” the girl she’d first talked to said, then studied her for a minute, and passed her some food. “Here.”

Leilani thanked her quietly and ate quickly, knowing that she would fall asleep soon.

“Go ahead and sleep,” she said, smiling. “Thanks so much for coming to help us.”

“Welcome,” the healer mumbled, finding a spot to stretch out near the other sleeper and falling away.

Kouji blinked. “Do you always have to sleep like that after bending?” he asked Katara.

“When I do a lot, yeah.”

“Hm,” was the reply, and then the boy fell silent. He seemed very curious about bending, always watching Haru or Toph or Aang when they went about it. They’d all noticed this, but no one objected. There was no harm in being curious. If they knew that at night, Kouji would practise what he’d observed on a smaller scale, he supposed they might be a bit upset. And he didn’t want to explain it, so he never told.

The others divided up the watches, as usual, and settled in for the night. Again, Kouji waited until the middle of the night, and privately started to practise.

Sometime while he was practicing, Zuko jerked awake — apparently, whatever woke him up in the middle of the night was undeterred by exhaustion and bloodloss.

Almost guiltily, Kouji stopped. “Zuko?” he asked.

“What?” he asked, softly.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Kouji sighed and subsided. Zuko was always fine. He pushed himself back up into a seated position, leaning against a tree. Kouji surreptitiously smoothed the earth where he’d been bending and wandered over to join the prince. He was staring off into space, one hand pressed against his side again. After a moment, the boy hesitantly asked if Zuko needed anything.

“No.”

Kouji nodded and fell silent. Zuko shifted position, and winced a little. Sighing, Kouji drew his knees to his chest and put his arms around them, wondering idly about his sister and feeling guilty that he hadn’t thought about his family in a few days.

“Something wrong?”

The boy hesitated. “…no. Just wondering if Yui’s okay.”

“Oh.” The prince shifted position awkwardly again, and winced again.

“You’re sure I can’t — no, never mind.”

“What?”

“You’re always fine.”

“Unless I can’t function, yeah.” He pulled his hand away from his side, studied it for a minute, then swore under his breath.

“What is it?”

“…could you hand me my bag?” he asked, totally not evading Kouji’s question.

The boy nodded and fetched it quietly for him. Zuko dug in it until he found a shirt, which he quietly started tearing up to make more bandages. Kouji watched, wanting to help but uncertain how the prince would take it. He then proceeded to unwind the bandages he already had on, revealing that his side had started bleeding again, and had soaked through.

Kouji made a muffled squeak of protest on seeing that.

Zuko glanced over at him, pausing. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re bleeding again.”

“…I noticed.”

“You need to get it looked at,” he insisted.

“I’m fine.”

But you’re not, thought Kouji, looking at him.

“…There’s no need to bother Katara with this. Or the new girl.” Zuko hadn’t managed to catch Leilani’s name.

“You can’t afford to lose much more blood.”

“Which is why I’m rebandaging it.”

Kouji made a vexed noise, but didn’t argue.

It took the prince a few minutes, but he finally managed to rebandage the hole in his side, then he sagged back against the tree, several shades paler than when he started. Kouji watched him worriedly, but made no sound.

“…what’s wrong?” Zuko asked, noting the look on the boy’s face.

“Nothing,” Kouji mumbled, averting his gaze.

“…you look upset.” The older boy straightened up, going half a shade paler, trying to meet Kouji’s eyes again.

He mumbled something else and looked down.

“Sorry?”

“…worried…”

He blinked. “…worried? Why?”

“…’bout you…”

This appeared to startle Zuko, and he was silent for a long moment. “…about me?”

The boy nodded.

Another moment of stunned silence, then, “Why?”

“‘Cause you’re hurt,” said Kouji quietly.

“…It’s not that bad.”

“You’re still hurt.”

Zuko shifted uncomfortably. This conversation was delving way too close to trapping him into actually admitting weakness or pain. “I’ve had worse,” he mumbled.

Kouji shrugged. “I’ve spent my whole life looking after my sister,” he said. “I guess I just worry about everyone as a result.” He cocked his head. “You’re kinda like her.”

“How so?” the prince asked, grateful for the change of subject.

“Stubborn and headstrong.”

“…oh.”

Kouji offered the prince a smile. “My parents think Yui should’ve been the boy and I should’ve been the girl.”

Zuko had many, many responses for that. Most of them involved subjects he’d really rather not discuss, particularly not with an eleven-year-old boy who, for some strange reason, was worried about him.

Kouji shrugged in response to the silence. “Yui’s really strong, though. So’re you.”

Zuko wasn’t quite sure what to say to that, and the boy grew quiet in response to the continued silence, wondering if he’d somehow offended the prince.

After a long moment, the older boy spoke again. “Are you going to tell Katara or the new girl about the blood?”

“…maybe,” Kouji hedged.

“…can you not? Katara already doesn’t like me, and I really don’t need any reason to make her like me less. And the new girl has done enough for us.”

“But you need the help…”

“I’m fine, Kouji.”

He didn’t look convinced, but slowly nodded. Zuko looked oddly relieved. “Thanks.” Another nod; the younger boy didn’t seem very comfortable with his acquiescence. The prince leaned back against the tree and closed his eyes. Kouji kept a worried eye on him until he eventually fell asleep; this marked the first night he hadn’t slept on Appa.

And so, the night passed without further incident.