The five of them — Jet, Smellerbee, Longshot, Zuko, and Kouji settled in to plan the heist. Zuko made no further objections to Kouji's inclusion, but insisted he function as a lookout, and not help with the actual breaking in and stealing in any more proactive way.

The boy gave Zuko a withering glare at that, but didn't argue lest Jet change his mind about letting him help out. Zuko ignored the glare, knowing that, while being a lookout was comparatively safer than the actual thieving part, it wasn't by much.

Oddly, neither Longshot nor Smellerbee seemed to notice or care about Kouji's youth. Also oddly, Longshot never said a word, instead nodding or shaking his head — to which Jet would change something and thank him for the addition. Finally, the whole thing was planned out. The two oldest boys decided to wait another half hour, to be sure they'd be breaking into a room empty but for the food.

By that point, too, it would be dark, making it harder to identify the thieves on the off-chance that they got caught. If Kouji had his way, they wouldn't be. The theft went without incident--Kouji was joined by Smellerbee as a lookout, Zuko and Jet would be doing the actual stealing, and Longshot was waiting in the shadows below to provide a rope for the four of them to climb down on. The two teenagers were only in the room for a few seconds, and returned with two bags full of food.

"Guard's coming!" warned Smellerbee from the left; within seconds the food and the thieves were down the rope on the bottom deck. They snuck back to where they'd left Iroh without getting caught, and set about distributing the food as equitably as they could, then the children sat down with Iroh to eat their share.

"So, Smellerbee," the old man said. "That's an unusual name for a young man."

The comment annoyed the androgynous teen. "Maybe it's because I'm not a man. I'm a girl!" she said hotly, then rose and stalked off.

"Oh," Iroh said, trying to apologize and cover for his mistake. "Now I see! It's a beautiful name for a lovely girl!"

She ignored him, but Longshot got up and hurried to her, grabbing her by the shoulder. He just looked at her with the smallest movement of the head, and she sighed. "You're right. As long as I'm confidant in who I am, it doesn't matter what other people think. Thanks, Longshot."

He nodded twice.

Kouji looked up at Zuko.

Zuko just shrugged, as Jet rejoined them from finishing the distribution. "From what I heard? People eat like this every night in Ba Sing Se," he said. "Can't wait to set my eyes on that giant wall..."

"It is a magnificent sight," Iroh said, quietly.

"So you've been there before?" Jet asked.

"Once," the old man said, looking away. "When I was a different man."

Kouji reached out and laid a hand on the old man's arm.

Zuko just kept watching Jet, face curiously blank.

"I've done some things in my past that I'm not proud of," the Freedom Fighter said, looking away as well. "But that's why I'm going to Ba Sing Se. For a new beginning. A second chance."

"That's very noble of you," Iroh said. "I believe people can change their lives if they want to. I believe in second chances." Here he gave Zuko a very pointed look.

Kouji drew his knees to his chest and rested his chin against them, thinking. The world had turned upside-down, it seemed to him. Everything was changing, and it looked to be for the better — with a few exceptions, of course. But if even Jet and his Freedom Fighters had come to see the wrong they had caused in the name of liberation, maybe Zuko would one day accept their new lives.

Zuko was quiet for the rest of the night, giving no indication that he'd understood what Iroh meant by that very pointed look.

Once again, they were at a depot, waiting in a very long line. The woman at the kiosk they came to looked upon them with a certain amount of disgust--probably jaded from having to deal with refugees day in and day out.

"So," she said. "Mr. Lee, Mr. Mushy, and the kid's Kouichi, is it?"

"It's pronounced Mushi," Iroh corrected.

"You telling me how to do my job?" the fat and remarkably ugly woman snapped.

"And people wonder why I hate to travel," mumbled Kouji, steadfastly ignoring that he loved travel and had in fact told Zuko and Iroh so several times over the winter.

Zuko just rolled his eyes, while Iroh hastily tried to placate the woman. "No, no! But, may I just say," he said, practically skipping over to the booth and leaning on it, grinning at her, "you're like a flower in bloom? Your beauty is intoxicating." Zuko looked rather like he wanted nothing more than to melt into the floor and vanish from the face of the earth. Kouji just stayed behind the prince, hiding his face in the teenager's shirt so nobody could see how red he was becoming.

"You're pretty easy on the eyes yourself, handsome," she said, coyly, making an odd and highly disturbing noise, like a catmouse in heat. "Welcome to Ba Sing Se." She stamped an "approved" symbol on Zuko and Iroh's passports. The old man grinned, took them, and turned back to the boys.

Zuko snatched his out of his uncle's hand. "I'm going to forget I saw that," he said, sounding rather disgusted, and walked away. Iroh just grinned.

"I think I threw up in my mouth a little," Kouji muttered, hurrying to catch up to the prince.

"I think I'm past that point," Zuko muttered back, slowing slightly so the smaller boy could keep up. Gratefully, the boy shortened his stride and bumped his arm playfully — and lightly, Zuko had not entirely recovered from his sunburn — then laughed and ran ahead to find them seats while they waited for their ride to the main city.

Zuko smiled a little, then sped up again to keep the kid within sight.

Not long after the three fugitives settled in, Jet joined them. "So," he said, grinning a little at Zuko, "you guys got plans, once you're inside the city?"

Kouji opened his mouth, but was cut off by a vendor calling out, "Get your hot tea here! Finest tea in Ba Sing Se!"

Predictably, Iroh bought a cup of jasmine tea, and promptly spat it out, complaining it was cold. Before Zuko could shoot back with something sarcastic — he still wasn't pleased with all the Images his uncle had planted in his head with the ticket lady — Jet asked if they could talk privately for a minute. Zuko sighed, and followed the other teen just out of earshot.

Kouji glowered after them. "Why does he always want to talk to Lee alone?" the boy complained. "It's like I'm not even here!"

"Perhaps because he thinks Lee will be more willing to give certain answers if you're not right there," Iroh said, absently, looking around to see if anyone was watching him.

"Lee's not a terrorist," snapped the boy, still glaring at Jet.

"Maybe Jet thinks he can persuade him to become one," the old man replied, after a moment's thought, sneakily reheating the tea he'd bought.

"Lee doesn't attack the innocent!" Kouji hadn't noticed Iroh's antics with the tea.

"You know that, and I know that, but Jet may not, and he probably thinks that he and Lee have common interests. And besides," the old man continued, as Zuko started coming back, "Jet's turned over a new leaf. Attacking innocents may no longer be a part of what he does."

"I guess," said the boy reluctantly. Still, being confined to the colony for a week last year because of a rumour that the Freedom Fighters might be in the area had stung hard, especially when he'd wanted to play earthball…

Just as Zuko rejoined them, he turned around to glance back at Jet, who was still watching him. The teenager turned back around, suddenly angry, and knocked Iroh's tea out of his hand.

"Hey!" the old man protested.

"What are you doing, firebending your tea?" Zuko hissed. "For a wise old man, that was a pretty stupid move."

"He what?" Kouji yelped as quietly as possible, turning so that Iroh was in his line of sight again. "Uncle!"

Iroh chose not to respond to either Kouji or Zuko directly, just said, sadly, "I know you're not supposed to cry over spilled tea, but it's just so sad."

"Priorities, Uncle," said Kouji, glaring at him. "Get them."

"I made sure no one was watching first," Iroh insisted.

"Yeah, well, I think Jet noticed hot tea where there was none before," Zuko said, still glaring.

The boy sighed. "Well, if anyone asks, claim waterbending. I bet the Southern girl could heat up cold tea if she wanted."

"Somehow, I don't think Jet will buy that," Zuko muttered, then flopped back into his seat, clearly still irritated.

"Then—" Kouji cut himself off quickly and turned away. No. Now was definitely a bad time to mention his bending. "Well, he's not making a fuss, anyway."

"He will," the older boy said, darkly.

"Then we just make sure we keep an eye out for him," the boy said decisively. "And no more bending for any reason."

"Yeah," Zuko agreed, quietly, rage melting away, shoulders slumping slightly.

Kouji bit his lip and leaned into the older boy, wishing he could comfort him. An hour or so of depressing quiet later, a train arrived they could finally squeeze into. They ended up sitting next to a couple with a new baby, whom Iroh complimented, grinning. Kouji. seated across from a pretty girl with braids, turned bright red and looked away.

Zuko just stared at the floor, slipping back into his Unhappy Place, the way he had so often on the ship. "It's all right, Lee," Kouji said softly, turning so that he was facing the prince. The older boy didn't look up or reply. The train lurched into motion, and Kouji closed his eyes to while away the transport time with a nap.

Once again, at the depot, they had to go through a long customs line. Thankfully, the agent they were dealing with on the inner wall was a man, and Kouji and Zuko were not subjected to any further unpleasant mental images.

"You know, it's a good thing we're travelling light," Kouji commented as they walked away. "Or that would've taken even longer."

"I guess," Zuko said, still not quite out of his dark place.

"Lee, we're safe now," the boy said tentatively.

"Yeah. Safe."

Kouji bit his lip and looked back at Iroh.

The old man just sighed — while it was true they were safer in some ways, now that they were in the city, in others, they were in even more danger. Iroh's face was still known in certain circles, and Zuko was impossible to disguise effectively. And there was still the Jet problem.

In reality, it was Kouji, a ten-year-old earthbender, who was truly safe here in the city. And even then, the fact that he travelled with firebenders, let alone the Dragon of the West and the exiled prince of the Fire Nation, would penetrate that fragile safety.

Finally, they extracted themselves from the station and headed for the Lower Ring, where the refugees and other poor inhabitants of the massive city lived. As soon as they'd settled basic necessities, such as finding an apartment and jobs for the two princes, Iroh bought a flowerpot, causing him to receive a truly withering look from his nephew.

"I just want our new place to look nice, in case someone brings home a lady friend." He elbowed Zuko and waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Kouji groaned out loud. "Uncle, I'm more likely to bring home a lady friend."

"This city is a prison," Zuko said, quietly, hard on Kouji's heels. "I don't want to make a life here."
"Life happens wherever you are, whether you make it or not," Iroh pointed out cheerfully. "Now, come on, I found us some new jobs, and we start this afternoon. Kouichi, why don't you take the flowers back to our apartment, and get things organized for us?"

The boy sighed. "All right, but I still don't see why I can't have a job, too."

"They weren't interested in hiring someone as young as you," the old man said, apologetically.

"Maybe you can find work running messages," Zuko said, suddenly. "You're quick, and have a good sense of direction."

Kouji perked up immediately. "Yeah, that's a great idea! Yui and I used to do that back home! Thanks, Lee." He grinned up at the older teen.

"No problem," he said, though he didn't smile back.

The boy, however, was used to this. Gleefully he took the vase and flowers from Iroh and skipped off to the apartment.

Iroh and Zuko joined him at the apartment several hours later, the former looking rather pleased with himself, and the latter still in his dark place.

"Oh, I looked around on the way home. There's a school nearby that you can go to, even though it's the middle of the term," Iroh told Kouji brightly.

"….school," said the boy flatly.

"Well, yes. You haven't been able to go since joining us, but there's no reason you can't now," the old man said, reasonably. "Besides, I believe there's a law in this city about children staying in school until they're twelve."

Kouji sulked. "I hate school," he announced.

"Well, you have to go anyway," Iroh said, firmly.

The boy crossed his arms over his chest and moved to the window. "Always surrounded by people who hate you 'cause you get done first, spoon-fed nothing but war propaganda, yelled at when you go further in the book than anyone else…," he muttered under his breath.

Neither prince seemed interested in interrupting his rant. Iroh started to make tea and dinner, and realized their spark rocks had mysteriously vanished. When neither Kouji nor Zuko seemed to know where they were, he left the apartment.

"I borrowed our neighbour's," he explained. "Such kind people."

"I'll get some more tomorrow," Kouji volunteered. Maybe I could learn to make them. If they're made, anyway.

"Good idea," Iroh said. "Perhaps you should get a spare set, too, in case this happens again."

"I will," promised Kouji. He glanced over at Zuko. And I'll let him keep them. He did have a good point about Jet earlier.

Zuko got up from staring at the ceiling to help make dinner. Kouji joined in – there wasn't room for all of them to cook, but the boy was perfectly capable of setting the table for three. "I'll do the dishes," he volunteered.

"All right," Iroh said.

Kouji beamed, having forgotten that just six months before he had done all in his power to avoid that chore at home.

The two princes finished making the dinner, and the three of them sat down, Zuko still being unusually quiet. Kouji ate everything put before him, as usual, and also engaged Iroh in debate about his having to go to school. He pointed out, quite rightly, that he had undergone a much different curriculum in "our old home" and that Ba Sing Se's school system could trip him up.

"But it's the law in this city for you to stay in school until you're twelve," Iroh reminded him. "And trying to homeschool you would draw more attention than we really want."

"We could say I was twelve," Kouji replied. "I'm almost eleven anyway."

"You're too small to pass for twelve, I'm sorry," the old man said, a little bluntly. "Besides, we got you into the city by claiming you were under twelve and so didn't need a passport. Changing that now would draw more unwanted attention."

Kouji scowled and sat back in his chair. Outmanoeuvred. Damn it.

Iroh smiled slightly at him, and changed the subject.

The next day, Kouji was packed off to school. Afraid that he might slip up, the boy kept mostly to himself. Fortunately, it seemed that here, at least, boys and girls were separated into different classrooms, so he didn't have to worry about his shyness hindering him. He took especial care to watch his tongue, however; he wasn't the only refugee attending this school and several of his classmates were rather bitter about the forced move. More than one, it seemed, only had one parent.

When he came back that day, he was unusually quiet.

Neither Zuko nor Iroh asked him about it. Perhaps they'd been prepared for such hits themselves, and figured Kouji must have gotten even more of them. Still, the boy finished his homework quickly, then slipped out once more to try to find work. He was determined not to be a burden to the two princes.

The next two weeks passed similarly quietly. Kouji woke up on his birthday to find a belt, somewhat worn and obviously second-hand, but with a small knife hidden in the buckle, left on his pillow for him.

At the end of those two weeks, however, Zuko and Iroh returned from work rather shaken. "What happened?" Kouji asked, looking up from where he was making their dinner.

"Jet," Zuko said, simply.

The boy's eyes went wide. "Are you all right? What happened?"

"He attacked us in the shop, saying we were firebenders. Lee got his hands on a pair of swords, and they fought. Jet was arrested," Iroh explained.

Kouji let out a low whistle. "I guess it was considered assault. Nobody questioned you after?"

Iroh shook his head. "Jet started the fight, and he was raving when the Dai Li took him away. I think they put it down to him being a misguided lunatic."

Kouji went pale. "The Dai Li? The Dai Li took him!?"

Iroh nodded. Zuko had slipped off into the other room to clean up.

"We'll have to be even more careful," the boy said, shuddering. "I've heard things about them. Bad things."

The old man nodded again. "I'll keep that in mind."

"And I wouldn't bet on them believing Jet's mad, either," Kouji added before following Zuko.

Iroh just sighed, and picked up where Kouji had left off with the cooking.

Zuko had taken off his shirt, and was checking to make sure he hadn't lost track of any hits when he was distracted by adrenaline. Other than a few shallow scratches and some bruises from hard landings, he was fine.

"You're all right," said Kouji, relieved.

"'Course I am," the older boy said, probing the deepest of the scratches to see how bad it was.

"Sometimes you're not even when you say you are," the earthbender pointed out, finding a bowl and a cloth. He filled the bowl with water and started to clean the scratches. Zuko, not wanting to have this argument for the umpteenth time, didn't reply, just tore up part of his sheet for bandages for the deeper cuts.

The younger boy fell silent, but continued his cleaning and helped Zuko tie the bandages.

"Thanks," the teenager said, then pulled his shirt back on.

"You're welcome," Kouji said with a smile. "Let's get some dinner."

"Yeah."

---