A few days later, Katara had still had no luck talking Zuko into taking an extended break. He had, however, taken to spending a few minutes, at least, each afternoon with Qiang, Kouji, and Katara — if for no other reason than because it helped him avoid marriage bait he’d really rather not deal with.

Kouji, in turn, had taken to seeking out even the most minor of excuses to be absent at least half the time, leaving Zuko and Katara alone.  Plainly, the young boy had decided what woman would be best for the Firelord.

Unfortunately for Kouji, neither of them seemed to have come to that conclusion. And every time something approaching progress on that front seemed to be made, the two of them blushed awkwardly and fled in opposite directions.

This particular afternoon, for example, Zuko was watching Katara tease Qiang with a piece of string, smiling slightly. She happened to glance over, and, absently, said, “You should smile more often.”

“Sorry?”

“You really have a nice smile. You should use it more often.” And then, as if realizing what she’d said, she went bright red, hastily stammered out something about having to be somewhere else, and fled.

Kouji passed her as she ran off and sighed.  “She likes you, you know,” he told Zuko.

“No, she doesn’t,” the older boy replied.

“Why do you say that?”

Zuko half-heartedly glared at Kouji. “She hates me. And with good reason.”

Kouji didn’t even blink.  “She doesn’t hate you.  She doesn’t even have any venom in her voice when she calls you ‘brat’.”

“Just ‘cause she might hate me a little less doesn’t mean she doesn’t hate me,” he pointed out.

“Why should she hate you?”

Zuko shifted uncomfortably, and gave the younger boy a very brief description of what had passed between him and Katara in Ba Sing Se, and then later at the Western Air Temple.

The boy was silent for a moment, then quietly said, “Oh.”

“So, she hates me,” he replied, flopping down to stare up at the sky.

“…I don’t think she does,” Kouji said after a moment.

“Why not?” the older boy asked, humouring him.

“She came back to the Fire Nation to see you.”

“She probably came back to see you and Shang and Toph,” Zuko pointed out.

“She wanted to see you too,” he insisted.

“Just to yell at me.”

“She wouldn’t yell at you if she didn’t care about you.”

Zuko shook his head. “The only reason she yells at me is because she knows that if anything happens to me, that’d probably touch off another war.”

“…Is it that hard for you to accept that people care about you?” Kouji asked him quietly.

“Yes,” he replied, without even having to think about it.

Unnoticed by either boy, Katara had come back — she’d forgotten something in her embarassed flight — but she paused, just outside and out of sight, to listen.

“Why?  And you already told me about Ba Sing Se, don’t repeat that.”

“Because I haven’t done anything to earn it.”

“…it doesn’t work like that, Zuko.”

“Doesn’t it?”

“I care about you.  I have since we started travelling together.”

“You’re the exception. Every rule has one.”

“General Iroh?”

“…That’s different.”

“Leilani.”

“…Also different.”

Kouji made a vexed noise.  “They are not.  And neither is Katara.”

“Look, my point still stands. Good things — like people actually caring one way or another for non-political reasons — don’t happen to people like me,” Zuko replied, irritated.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t deserve it.”

“But it doesn’t work that way!”

“Yes it does!” he snapped, exasperated. “Look, I’ve hurt too many people to deserve a wonderful woman like Katara. Besides, I’m still trying to make up for everything my crown has put the world through. I haven’t even gotten close to my personal crimes.”

“Why do you have to be the one to atone for what your father and grandfather did?” Kouji wanted to know.

“Because I’m the only one who can.”

“That doesn’t make sense!”

“Of course it does. Someone has to pay for it!”

“Why?  Sozin, Azulon, and Ozai are dead.  You didn’t commit their crimes.”

“I know I didn’t. But even if I didn’t have that debt to pay, I have my own crimes to atone for.”

“Crimes?  Or mistakes?”

“Mistakes that were crimes.”

“Like Ba Sing Se?”

“Among others,” he said, softly, staring at his hands.

“…Zuko, have you ever considered that maybe you’ve already atoned?”

“How?” the Firelord asked, bewildered.

“Azula.  The volcano.  Your illness.”

“…How is that atonement? Okay, maybe it’s punishment, karmic justice or something, but… not atonement.”

“I’m saying that maybe the balance is settled already.”

“Maybe for my personal crimes.”

“The crimes of your father are not yours!”

“Someone has to pay for them! And I’m the only one left!”

“So if, say, my father murdered someone, and then he and Ichiro were killed, I would have to accept his punishment since I would be the only one left to pay for it?”

“…This is different.”

“It isn’t,” said Kouji.  “You’re afraid of being happy.”  He got to his feet and stalked off.

Katara was still waiting by the door, a decidedly odd expression on her face. As Kouji walked by, she whispered, “He really thinks I’m wonderful?”

Startled, he turned to her.  “Yeah.  He does.”

She was smiling faintly. “Oh.”

“…you should go talk to him.”

“And admit I was eavesdropping?”

“Tell him I told you.”

She considered this for a moment, then grinned, waited a couple more minutes, then slipped inside.

Kouji hesitated, then decided to ignore his own irritation to listen in.

For a while, it seemed like Katara had lost her nerve. She collected the item she’d left behind, and headed towards the door, walking a little faster than was strictly necessary.

When she reached the door, however, she paused. “…You really think I’m wonderful?”

Zuko started, then, blushing, muttered, “I, uh, I may have said something like that, yeah.”

Do something about it, thought Kouji.  If he keeps going on this stupid idea that he has to pay for everything his family has done, he’ll never do anything…

She kept staring at the door. “Kouji tells me that you also have this damnfool idea in your head that you don’t deserve me.”

“I don’t.”

Tell him it’s pigbullshit.  Because it is.

“You thick-headed idiot,” she said, exasperated, finally turning around. “Did you ever stop to consider that it might be the other way around?”

Zuko just blinked at her. “Huh…?” he replied, eloquent as always.

Kouji’s eyes widened.  That was a new angle.

“You are, quite possibly, the greatest man I know. You… you have this strength in you, deep inside, that’s nowhere near anything I could ever dream of touching. Because not only did you manage to survive the hell that your family and the world in general put you through all these years, you managed to come out on the other side with some glimmer of faith in humanity. You’re still able to dream about peace and think that it’s possible. You care more about an impersonal, non-specific debt to the world than about your own happiness and well-being — and, while that’s kind of stupid on one level, it’s also… amazing. That someone could come through everything you’ve come through and not want to give as good as he got, and still say, “I don’t deserve you.” That’s something I could never do. no matter how hard I tried.”

She had a point, Kouji realised.  And for all of his frustration with the Firelord’s insistence that he had to repay this debt he thought he owed the world, it was a really good point.

Kouji wasn’t sure he had the strength to take on such a mantle.

Zuko just stared at her, mouth gaping open, clearly too stunned to speak.

The boy listened eagerly for what would happen next.

“Well?” Katara said, now a little nervous that she’d said too much. “Say something!”

“I— you— you don’t hate me…?”

I told you that, thought Kouji.  But did you listen?  Nooooooooo.

“I did,” Katara admitted. “For a really long time. But… not anymore.”

See?  Now  do something about it!

Hesitantly, as if he still wasn’t sure this wasn’t a dream, Zuko walked over to Katara and kissed her.

Grinning broadly, Kouji slipped away.  He didn’t need to see anything else.

Current Location: my bed
Current Mood: cold
Tags: au, avatar, blood lines, fanfic

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