They had been in Omashu for two days when the city proved Sokka wrong. Kouji was walking alone through a nearly-empty street when a thin, desperate, mousevolelike man knifed him and took his wallet.

Snarling, Kouji drew sand away from the pouch on his belt and created a spout, then bent it around into the thin man’s eyes.  He yelped and dropped both his wallet and the bloody pocketknife, pressing his now-free hands to his eyes.  Kouji limped to him and took both wallet and knife.  “Get the hell out of here,” he snapped.

The would-be thief scrambled away, still rubbing frantically at his eyes. He ran into a wall and dropped, unconscious.  Shaking his head, Kouji limped back to the hotel room he was staying in with Toph.

“You’re limping,” she greeted him.

“I think this city hates people from the Fire Nation,” he replied.

“…If you got stabbed, we should find someone to clean you up,” she said, decisively. “There’s an apothecary down the street.  Come on.”

“Yes, Sifu Toph,” he replied.

She led him down the street to a small, cool, odd-smelling shop. A slender, middle-aged woman looked up when they came in, taking in the stab wound on Kouji’s thigh. “Please, sit.”

Something about her facial structure and the way she spoke seemed familiar to the two travellers.

Frowning, Kouji obeyed, trying to figure out why the woman sparked such recognition in him.

She collected some things from the back of the room, then knelt next to him. “You’re lucky, this is clean and not very deep.” She put something on the injury that stung fiercely, then wrapped it carefully. “Try to keep as much weight off it as possible for a few days, or it will reopen.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, turning slightly pink.  It never failed, did it?

She rose again and, while rising, her eyes met his briefly — golden eyes, she was an expatriate of some kind.

Kouji’s eyes went wide.  “Excuse me, but… have we met before?  You seem… strangely familiar somehow.”

She frowned slightly, then shook her head. “I don’t think so. But some days a lot of people come through here, so it’s not impossible.”

The young man sighed.  “Oh well.”

“How much do we owe you?” Toph asked. The apothecary quoted her a reasonable price, and the two women went to another part of the room to settle things, leaving Kouji free to look around the room.

It was mostly devoted to the business of the shop — there was little in here save packets of dried or drying herbs and other medical supplies, save for an old picture, mostly hidden by a bunch of drying flowers.

Kouji hesitated, then limped over to move the flowers aside.

It was a family portrait — a man and woman, seated, both dressed in the court dress of the Fire Nation.

Far more interesting, however, were the boy and girl kneeling at their feet.

Silver eyes went wide.  “Zuko…”

The apothecary stiffened, and turned to him. “Beg pardon?”

Kouji jumped and turned, now examining her face even more closely now that he knew what it was he was looking for.

A little more than twenty years separated her from the woman in that portrait, but she was clearly the same.

“…Ursa.”

She stiffened even more. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, coolly, and a little too quickly. Toph frowned at her, catching the lie.

“If you don’t, then why do you have a picture of Zuko and Az— and his sister?” Kouji asked.

“That painting? I bought it. Ten years ago.”

Toph shook her head, and mouthed “Lying,” at Kouji, from behind the older woman’s back.

“You’re lying,” Kouji said calmly.

“Excuse me?”

Kouji glanced at Toph and sent a small tremor through the floor, trying to ask if it was okay to explain about her lie-detecting.  She considered a minute, then shrugged. Clearly, she thought it would just be easier to tell the apothecary who he was, and how he’d managed to recognize her.

Kouji sighed.  “Look.  My name is Kouji.  For the past thirteen years I’ve been serving Firelord Zuko, working as his aide.  It makes him easy to recognise — as well as members of his family.”

Her eyes widened, and she went a few shades paler. “You… you’re… you know my son?” Shock made her forget her carefully-constructed cover story.

“Yes,” he replied.  “I have since just before the war ended.”

“He’s… is he… how is he?”

…oh, shit. 

Kouji hesitated.  “He’s… been better, but he’s mostly all right…”

“Mostly?”

Thankfully, Toph rescued him. Being a human lie detector had taught her some of the best ways to lie convincingly. “He’s got an overdeveloped sense of responsibility and he works too hard. So he’s always running short of sleep. Sometimes he forgets to eat.” She shrugged.

“…maybe you should come with us,” Kouji said slowly.  “Have a chance to see him.”

“…Maybe it’s kinder to let him keep thinking I’m dead,” she replied, after a moment, shoulders slumping slightly.

“…but he knows you’re alive.  Or at least that there’s a chance at it.”

“But he doesn’t know for sure. And, if I came back…” She sighed. “I can’t deny what I did. I’d do it again, if I had to but… I can never go back. I know that. And if I did, politics might force him to do something about it. I can’t make him do that. Better for me to stay out here and let him think I’m dead. It’s less cruel.”

“…but…”  Kouji was torn.  On the one hand, Ursa had a point.  Too, it might be cruel to bring her to the Fire Nation so she could see first-hand that her only living child was dying.  But on the other hand…

“I have to do what’s best for him. And, no matter how much I want to see what kind of man he’s become first-hand… staying away is what’s best.”

“…but what if you never get the chance to see him again?  Or to see your grandchildren?”

“I gave that right up when I killed Azulon to protect him,” she said, quietly.

…Zuko’s family is screwed up, Kouji thought bitterly.

“Do you want us to tell him anything from you?” Toph asked after a moment, seemingly accepting Ursa’s decision.

She shook her head. “It’s better if he doesn’t know.”

“As you wish,” Kouji said eventually.

When they left her shop, Ursa was staring at the picture. It was hard to tell, but it looked like she was crying.

“I hate this city,” muttered Kouji.

“It doesn’t seem to like you much, either,” Toph said, helping him back to their hotel room. “But we should probably stick around a few days, ‘til your leg heals more.”

“…yeah, I guess.”

 

At the end of the few days, Kouji declared that he was in need of some irrational exuberance, and thus they would go visit Teo at the Northern Air Temple.  It had been quite some time since anyone had seen the young inventor and his father; the last news they’d had was a few months before the births of Aiko and Yuki, when Teo had mentioned that he was now a father.

It took nearly a week to cross from Omashu to the Northern Air Temple, but Kouji didn’t mind.

And Sokka was wrong about the touching thing, damn it!

Were he to ask her about it, she would’ve disagreed. Sokka wasn’t the only one who’d noticed.

Qiang, who had also noticed, seemed to find the entire thing vastly amusing and lost no opportunity to tease Kouji about it.

“You’re as bad as Sokka,” he told the dragon one night, refusing to elaborate further.

Finally, they landed at the temple, the glider-kids scattering before the dragon and presumably running to get Teo, as the young man was there to greet them.  His usual grin was bigger than normal.

“You’re unusually ecstatic. Did you have another kid?” Toph greeted him.

“No,” Teo replied, reaching out and hugging her regardless.

“So what’s the reason for it?” Kouji wanted to know.

Teo’s eyes lit up.  “It’s about Fēng.”

“What about him?”

“I just found out today — he’s a bender, guys!”

“That’s great!” Toph said, grinning.

“You won’t believe what kind of bender.”

“What kind?”

It seemed as though Teo’s grin was going to split his face.  “An airbender.”

“…no way. No way, Twinkletoes is gonna explode!”

Kouji laughed.  “Teo that’s great!”

“I know!” agreed the inventor.  “But I want to tell him.  If you see him when you head back to the Fire Nation, could you tell him he should drop by?”

“No problem,” Toph said.

“Thanks.”  Teo laughed.  “Come on in, I’ll show you what we’ve done with the place.”

“Lead on, happy man. Lead on.”

 

After a week at the Temple, Toph and Kouji started back for the Firenation.

Somewhere near the coast, Qiang’s path crossed with another massive flying beast of burden.

“Kouji! Toph!” Aang shouted.

“Aang!” Kouji yelled back, waving his arm.  “What’s happening?”

His reply was covered by the wind. “Let’s land so we can talk right!” he managed to finally communicate, between shouting and gesturing.

Kouji indicated assent by circling one arm, then brought his dragon down to solid ground.  Aang landed a minute later, and then ran over and hugged Toph and Kouji.  “How’ve you been?” Kouji asked, laughing and giving the monk a gentle noogie.

“I’ve been good,” Aang said. “How ‘bout you guys? I haven’t heard from your part of the world in ages.”

“We’re doing pretty good, except I think Zuko’s going to explode when I get back home.”

“…What happened?”

With a sigh, Kouji explained about the betrothal negotiations.

“…He’s gonna set the capital on fire.”

“I know.  Damn it, I’ve had months and I still can’t think of a way to lose this letter.”

“…They gave you an actual letter?” Aang groaned. “You can’t. If they’d just asked you in words, you could “forget,” but since they gave it to you in writing…” He sighed. “Tell him someplace crowded, he won’t blow up where people will see. He’s always real concerned about image.”

“I’m going to have to,” Kouji sighed.  “Oh, by the way — have you been to the Northern Air Temple lately?”

“That’s my next stop, when I leave your capital.”

The younger man grinned.  “Great!  Teo had something he wanted to tell you.”

“Awesome, sounds like something good.”

“It’ll blow you away,” Kouji promised.

Aang just grinned. “So, you guys are heading back to the Firenation now?”

The younger man nodded.  “Yeah — I’ve been gone five and a half months.  More than time for me to go back, no?”

“Yeah, probably. I’m heading there, too.”

“Really?  Great!  I know the kids’ll be glad to see you.”

“It’ll be good to see them, too. How’s everyone doing?”

Kouji hesitated for a brief moment.  “Fine.  They’re all fine.”

“That’s good!” He didn’t seem to pick up on the hesitation.

“…Hey, Sunshine, you wouldn’t mind if I rode with him for a while? Appa’s less uncomfortable than Qiang,” Toph said, before Aang could ask any clarifying questions.

“Nope, not at all.”  Which wasn’t a lie. 

Really. 

It wasn’t.

“Great,” she said.

Yes, it was.

“Guess I’ll see you two when we get to the palace?”

“Or when we stop to camp tonight?” Aang suggested. “We’re four or five days away, at least.”

“…I have no sense of distance at all, do I.”

“No, Sunshine, you really don’t.”

Kouji sighed.  “Then I’ll see you when we stop to camp.”

“All right, see you tonight!” And the two animals took off.

“I don’t like her,” Kouji said to Qiang.  “I don’t.”

She sighed.

 

During Kouji’s absence, Zuko had lost more weight, almost enough for those who saw the office rather than the man to ask questions. Probably the only thing saving him from having to dodge those questions was that he’d had weight problems before.

He’d also been skipping his sessions with Leilani, consistently. Around the time Kouji and Aang met up, he had managed to find enough excuses to skip them for nearly two weeks.

Therefore, when the healer finally cornered him, to say that she was displeased would have been somewhat like saying that Azula had been slightly unbalanced.

“You got my messages, saying why I couldn’t come?” he asked, in an attempt to diffuse the confrontation.

“I got your excuses, yes.”

“They weren’t excuses. They were things I needed to do.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him.  “And I suppose you have another one for tonight?”

“I was going to see the twins. I haven’t seen them today.”

“You can see them after the session,” she informed him.

“…I don’t suppose I have a choice.”

“No.  You don’t.”

He sighed, and turned. “Let’s get this over with.”

Still not thrilled with recent events, Leilani led him to the corner of the garden they used for these sessions.  He settled himself into his usual seat, and said nothing.  As usual, Leilani had to drag words out of him; it was a struggle to make him string two sentences together.

Somehow, their conversation turned back to the war — not unusual, it came up in about half of their sessions. “I thought I was going to die then,” he commented, staring at his hands. “During the war. That whole time… I didn’t think I’d live through it.”

“Because of everything you had to do?” she asked gently.

He shrugged. “I guess.” Then, quietly, so quietly she almost couldn’t hear, “Sometimes I wish I had.”

The healer glanced sharply up at him.  “Why?”

“Not always,” he replied. “Just sometimes.”

“That didn’t answer my question, Zuko.”

“I know,” he snapped. “It’s just… sometimes. When I’m so tired I can’t think straight and hurting too much to sleep. When I look in the mirror and I can’t recognize myself — this isn’t me. This fragile… fractured… thing… This isn’t me. Sometimes, I wish I’d died then. It probably would’ve hurt like hell, yeah, but it would’ve been over. And, when I died, I would’ve been someone I could re — someone I could recognize.”

Leilani fell silent, staring at him.  It was hard to read the look in her eyes, but thankfully, it wasn’t pity.  In fact, she looked somewhat shocked.  “Zuko…”

“…Only sometimes,” he said, conscious he’d blown up at her when he probably shouldn’t have, and wanting to make sure she knew he wasn’t going to throw himself off the roof again.

She nodded, still silent for the moment.  Then she said, “Zuko, answer me honestly.  Do you hurt right now?”

“…No more than usual,” he hedged.

She looked up at the sky, then drew her hand in a circle inches above the grass, drawing water from it.  “Turn around.  I want to try something.”

 

He did as she asked.

She moved closer to him, her water starting to glow, then began moving the water just over his clothes, frowning in concentration as she focused deeper.  Judging by how relieved he looked when she finished, what little she’d managed to do had made a huge difference.  Leilani smiled.  “New rule, Lord Zuko.”

“What?”

“I do this at the end of every session.”

He nodded. “All right.”

“Go see your girls.”

He smiled. “Right.” He pushed himself back up and limped — somewhat less stiffly than before — back to the palace.

Leilani watched him go, and wished fervently she could go back in time and yell at Firelord Ozai for all the damage he’d done to his children.  Both of them.