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Chapter Text

Prince Zuko's ship had never been admired for its appearance. It was a small, rust-patched thing that was more like an outdated hairdo people wished would disappear—served its purpose, but also kind of embarrassing. In any case, the fact the ship was so disgustingly recognisable was also how those travelling on Appa ended up descending to greet the people on deck rather than fleeing. Zuko wasn't sure what he had expected upon meeting his old crew again, but learning that they had been tracking the Avatar ever since the failed siege on the North, even in his absence, was a weird source of pride and confusion.

"Why?" he blurted. "Why would you even bother to keep looking when I wasn't there to hound you? You all hated looking for the Avatar!"

Kan, one of the younger firebenders, lowered his gaze to the deck and then off to the side. Most of the others looked a bit uncomfortable as well, scuffing their shoes or glancing up at the sky. Even Cheng, the cook, was picking invisible fluff off his apron.

Zuko, Iroh, Tomoki and Jee all exchanged glances. It wasn't like the crew to be quiet.

"We wanted to find you," Kan finally admitted. "We heard you were all supposed to be travelling with the Avatar now, so we thought, hey, we're all pros at tracking the Avatar. Let's just find the kid again and then we'd find you as well." He scratched his pink-flushed cheek. "I mean, we've been together for three years. It's just … weird without you all."

Zuko felt something disturbingly warm and mushy settle in his stomach. "Oh. Well, uh, you know we're basically traitors now, right?"

The crew nodded.

"And you're okay with that?"

The crew nodded again.

Iroh placed his hand on Zuko's shoulder. "I believe they're saying they wish to join us, Nephew."

Zuko blinked and once more glanced at his crew. All of them smiled back at him. It was kind of surreal. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen so much positivity and affection directed to him from the motley collection of men. Maybe he and his Uncle getting cursed had messed with their heads.

Sokka eyed the gathered Fire Nation soldiers, engineers, the old helmsman and the cook. "I think we're gonna need a bigger bison."

"We'll need more than that," Katara said dryly.

"But what to do?" Aang chimed in, rubbing his chin in thought.

Lieutenant Jee cleared his throat. "Uh, if I may, there is a perfectly good ship right here which we can use. The bison can barely carry us all as it is. This way, Appa can get rest on the ship when we have to travel on the sea and—"

"And the Fire Nation won't bother us anymore because they'll think we're one of them!" Sokka said, hitting his fist against his palm. "That's genius!"

Zuko eyed his small, outdated ship. "Yeah, I don't know how well that will work. The Washiuma is kind of recognisable."

The crew stared around them and then shrugged. It was true.

Jee folded his arms across his chest. "I was going to say that we won't have to be crammed in the saddle all the time."

Iroh's mouth twitched. "A valid point. I believe we could all do with some extra space."

"Then I guess that means we'll be travelling together from now on," Aang said with a broad grin. "Happy to be aboard! I hear you guys like to have music nights! I'm pretty good with a dizi, you know. I'd love to join."

Cheng nudged the old engineer next to him. "Does this feel weird to you?"

"A little bit." The engineer shrugged. "But, hey, at least we have a dizi player now."

Aang grinned at them both. "I think we're all going to get along great."

Zuko just continued to blink. Somehow, he'd ended back where he'd started: branded a traitor, travelling on this rust bucket of a ship with his motley crew, and dealing with the looming threat of music night. This was so weird.

Chapter Text

Zuko did not like Ba Sing Se. It was an annoying city with an annoying bunch of rules, but it had given him and Katara a chance to be alone. For that he could only be grateful. Whether they were travelling on the ship or the bison, someone was always around to spoil things. That was also why the young couple had decided to get dinner in the Lower Ring. Sure, it was far from upscale, but at least they were less likely to run into one of their own companions. Especially not his crew. His crew were the worst.

"So," Katara said, slipping her hand in his as they walked through the crowded streets. "What do you want to do next?"

He hummed in thought, trying to appear nonchalant. In truth, he was sweating in a panicked frenzy under his robes. It had suddenly occurred to him that he should have planned this night better. This was their first proper date (the other attempts didn't count). While she seemed to have enjoyed dinner, he hadn't known that he was supposed to plan stuff for them to do afterwards. He didn't know how to do this dating thing period.

"Uh, we could go for a walk?" he suggested.

She shrugged and said that was fine with her, so they kept walking through the streets, chatting idly, until they came to a fountain that was surrounded by lit lanterns. The little flames looked like fireflies dancing around the water.

"Pretty," Katara murmured.

Luck seemed to be on his side. Zuko glanced down at her and saw her lips curve. She tugged on both his hands so that he was facing her.

"Did you plan this?" she asked with a slight twinkle in her eye.

"Maybe."

Her smile widened. "You liar. You didn't know about it at all, did you?"

Zuko bit back a smile of his own. "Guess you'll never know."

He thought that was a pretty smooth response, if he did say so himself. Katara even leaned closer so that their lips were a hairsbreadth apart.

"Oh?" she said, looking up at him from under her lashes. "So, what do you plan to do now that you've got me here?"

Zuko was sure the answer was supposed to be "kiss you", but his brain stuttered on the fact she looked amazing in the lantern light and it had been a while since they'd even been this close. He made some real suave sound that was a bit like "uh, um" and then swallowed.

Katara flashed him a grin. The next moment water splashed the top of his head and she was giggling and darting away from him.

"Hey!" he complained, even as droplets spilled down his neck and the back of his tunic.

The smile she threw over her shoulder made his body warm in all the right places. Well, if that was how she wanted to play, challenge accepted.

He sped after her with all the nimbleness of his Blue Spirit persona. He couldn't bend in the open, but then Katara wasn't trying all that hard to escape him either. She teased and splashed him and ran, and all the while he got closer. Finally, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her towards the fountain.

"Wait, Zuko, you're not going to—"

He met her eyes with a crooked grin of his own. "Payback."

Then he dropped her into the fountain. She shrieked as water splashed everywhere. Zuko barely let out a laugh before a hand latched onto the front of his tunic and he was dragged into the fountain as well. Gross, he got some of it in his mouth. He broke through the surface, coughing and spluttering, and completely dripping wet. Katara met his gaze with a smug smile.

"You didn't actually think you were going to win a water fight with a waterbender, did you?" she asked.

"Pretty sure that was a tie." His hands threaded through her damp hair. "I'm the one who made you all wet, you know."

Katara bit her lip. "R-right."

It sounded like she was trying not to laugh. It took Zuko a moment to realise the innuendo. He blushed vibrantly.

"I didn't mean it like that!" he protested. "You know I didn't."

Of course that just set her off. His blush darkened and his scowl deepened and then he decided he'd had enough. She'd totally killed the mood anyway.

He released her and stood up. "Fine. Stay here and laugh."

"Oh, c'mon. You should have seen your face."

Zuko stepped out of the fountain. Katara followed him and grabbed his arm with no compunction, tugging him closer so she was leaning against his side. He could have pushed her away easily, and they both knew it, but he didn't. It wasn't like he was mad. Just embarrassed. Maybe that was why she smiled and poked the edge of his scowling mouth.

"You're cute when you're flustered," she told him.

His cheeks burned hotter. "Just get me dry," he grumbled.

She stepped back and moved her arm in a familiar gesture to draw the water out of both their clothes. That was when she froze. A boy with messy brown hair and hooked swords strapped to his back was standing on the other side of the square. A piece of straw was sticking out of his mouth. He was also staring right at them, or at least at Katara, and his eyes were wide with recognition.

Zuko's lips pursed in distaste. "Don't tell me that's—"

"Jet!" Katara snarled, gathering the water and shifting into an offensive stance.

"Wait!" Jet said, holding his hands up in an appeasing gesture. "Just wait! I don't mean you any—"

Water slammed into his chest, knocking him clean off his feet. Zuko's mouth twitched into a smirk.

"Nice one," he praised.

Katara flicked her plait over her shoulder with a hint of smugness. Her eyes, however, remained hard and unforgiving. It seemed she was not in any hurry to trust Jet again. Not that it stopped the smarmy jerk from trying to wheedle his way into her good graces. Jet explained how he was "going straight" now. The Freedom Fighters had been disbanded and he was just trying to make a life for himself in Ba Sing Se. He didn't want any trouble.

"It is really good to see you again, though," Jet said in his most smarmy voice with his most smarmy smile. "I hoped I'd get another chance to talk to you, Katara. I wanted to apologise for what happened."

Zuko folded his arms across his chest. "I can't believe this bastard," he muttered under his breath.

Jet's gaze flickered to the prince; perhaps he'd heard the comment. "Who are you?" he demanded in a voice that suggested he thought Zuko was the one interrupting.

"Her boyfriend," Zuko said flatly.

Or so went the nice version. His eyes said much less pleasant things in much less polite ways. Zuko was good at telling people where they could go with just a glare.

Jet's brow creased. "You're her boyfriend?"

"That's right. Got a problem with that, Jet?"

Katara rolled her eyes and shoved Zuko aside. "Stop posturing."

"I wasn't even—"

"Oh, please. You might as well have puffed out your chest like a peacock-horse and said, 'roar, I am man. Stay away from my woman.'" She poked him in the chest. "I can deal with him myself."

"Because you did such a great job of that last time."

"What?" Her cheeks dusted with pink. "I can't believe you're bringing that up now!"

"Why wouldn't I? This guy spent his whole time trying to get up your skirt at the hideout, and you just expect me to stand here and watch him flirt with you again now?"

Jet blinked. "Wait." His eyes narrowed on Zuko and then widened as big as they could go. "You—you're that little—how is this even—"

"Surprise," Zuko said dryly. "I'm not a kid."

Jet's jaw dropped. That would have been kind of satisfying had Zuko not been more interested in getting Katara away from the bastard. This was a reunion he did not care to prolong.

"Let's just go," Zuko said, turning back to her. "There's no point hanging around this jerk."

She opened her mouth to respond, but Jet got there before her. It seemed he was still struggling to comprehend how the "interfering, firebender brat", as he called Zuko, was a teenager.

"Did you know about this back then?" Jet demanded of Katara.

She flushed, perhaps remembering how Jet had walked in on her holding a naked, struggling Zuko. The prince certainly felt a bit hot around the ears and neck. There were some things that were best left in the past.

"I didn't know then," Katara admitted. She scowled at her boyfriend. "He didn't trust us with the truth at the time."

"Can you blame me?" Zuko went back to crossing his arms and looked the other way. "Besides, I told you eventually, didn't I?"

She raised her chin. "Only after you were outed."

"Are we really going to have this argument again?"

She ignored his comment and shifted her gaze to Jet. "Anyway, that's how it is now. I hope you won't cause any problems for us."

Jet's jaw tightened, but then he relaxed with an exhale. "I told you I won't. I don't want any trouble either. If you trust Lee despite the fact he's a firebender, then—" the teen swallowed and seemed to have to force his next words out "—then I guess I have to accept that." His mouth twisted. "I don't like it, I probably won't ever like it, but I guess he did save the kids from that blasting jelly back then, so I'll let it be."

"Gee, thanks," Zuko said sarcastically. It sounded so sincere when Jet said it all grudging and talked about him like he wasn't right there. "What happened to them, anyway? The Duke and all the kids, I mean."

Jet shrugged. "Like I said, the Freedom Fighters got disbanded. Only Smellerbee and Longshot followed me here."

Zuko frowned. He had to admit that he would have liked to have seen The Duke and all of Team Rice Ball again. He'd developed a soft spot for those kids after all they'd experienced together. Too bad he was just stuck with Jet.

Fortunately, Jet didn't stick around for much longer after that. Perhaps he just really couldn't handle being in the presence of a firebender for too long; perhaps he just realised there was no point when he'd missed his chance with Katara. Either way, Zuko wasn't sad to see the smarmy bastard go.

"About time," Zuko muttered.

Katara planted her hands on her hips and confronted him with pursed lips. "What was that earlier?"

"What was what?"

"Don't play innocent!" She hit his arm, though not at all hard. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."

Zuko averted his gaze. Right. He supposed it had been a bit of a dick move to bring up how she'd made sappy eyes at Jet and fallen all over herself for him in the past.

"Don't you trust me?" she demanded.

"Of course I trust you. I just—"

She tapped her foot and raised her eyebrow as the silence continued. Zuko repressed a sigh.

"I'm sorry, alright?" he muttered. "I just don't like seeing you with him. That bastard did try to kill me and drown a whole village." He scowled. "Plus, I hate the way he looks at you and talks to you. Smarmy bastard thinks he's so smooth."

"Jealous?"

Zuko's cheeks warmed, though he still met her gaze boldly. "No. You're dating me, not him."

"That's right." Katara gripped his tunic and pulled him closer. "I'm dating you. Now, since we've got that clear, are you going to kiss me or not?"

One corner of his mouth twitched upwards. Jet probably would have offered a flirty response then; Zuko just leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. Judging by the enthusiastic way she responded, not wasting time with words had been the right decision. It seemed he hadn't been the only one missing the chances to have physical contact.

"I really hope no one else interrupts," she said between kisses.

He almost laughed. "You're telling me."

It seemed to be their curse. The date had ended up a mess as well, but then no one had ever said dating during the middle of a war while travelling with the Avatar would be easy. At the very least, Zuko didn't have to worry about the smarmy bastard anymore. That could only be a good thing.

Chapter Text

"Lieutenant!"

Jee glanced to the left to see Tomoki run out from the trees, though stumbled was probably a better word. The kid—for he really was just a kid, being only twenty-five years old—was clutching his head and had scratches all over him, as if he'd spent a lot of time making friendly with branches and the razor-sharp edges of cutting grass. Of course, it was easy to see his wounds because he was only wearing a loincloth. Prince Zuko had stolen his clothes.

"The prince," Tomoki panted, swaying a bit. "The prince has—"

Jee hurried over and caught the younger firebender before he could smack headfirst into the ground. "Easy there."

"But the prince—"

"I know. He's gone. He left with the Avatar and those Water Tribe kids on the bison."

Tomoki vomited a little, then groaned.

"You have a concussion," Jee observed. "Try not to move too much."

"Don't … don't care about that." Tomoki suddenly gripped Jee's wrists. "Lieutenant, what are we gonna do? The prince is, Prince Zuko has become a trai—"

"Quiet!"

Tomoki closed his mouth faster than an airbender could run.

"You shouldn't say such things," Jee said less brusquely.

"But—"

"Prince Zuko assured me he hasn't betrayed the Fire Nation."

"But then why did he run from us? Why did he help the Avatar?"

Jee shook his head. He didn't understand the prince's actions either, but he did know one thing: that child had spent three years driving them all up the wall with his blustering and relentless orders. Prince Zuko had been obsessed with capturing the Avatar. For him to change so swiftly, to actually fight against his own crew, was both troubling and intriguing.

"I think we should trust him," Jee said finally. "He must have his reasons."

"So … we just let him go?"

Jee nodded. "We let him go, and we don't speak a word of this to anyone."

Tomoki actually looked a bit relieved, but then a few creases formed on his brow. "What about the other crew? They'll be suspicious if we come back alone and call off the search."

"But we're not going to call off the search," Jee said with a sly grin. "We'll continue as usual as if we never found the prince or General Iroh."

An answering grin curved Tomoki's lips, though it was a bit lopsided. The concussion had to be getting to him.

"We need to get you to a healer," Jee said with a frown. "Looks like Prince Zuko did a real number on you." An egg-like bump was already forming on his head.

"I'm totally fine."

"You're trying to talk to a tree."

Tomoki blinked and turned his unfocussed gaze back on Jee. "Oh."

Jee sighed. This really was a huge mess.

"Hate to break the moment," a dry voice said from the other side of the clearing, "but I'm still lying here."

Right. That woman.

Jee kept his arm around Tomoki and helped him walk over to where June was sprawled on the ground, still paralysed. "Your shirshu ran off," he observed.

"I'm aware."

Her voice was the lash of a whip and the sourness of lemons mixed in one. Then she sighed and told them she had a vial of shirshu-venom antidote. The amount of venom Nyla had got in her during the beast's frenzy meant the paralysis would take forever to wear off, and she wasn't in the mood to lie around all day. That was understandable. Jee just wasn't entirely comfortable retrieving said vial since it was nestled between her breasts. He hadn't touched a woman in such an intimate place since his wife had passed away almost thirty years ago.

"What's the problem?" Tomoki asked, blinking unfocusedly.

"Nothing."

Except his cheeks warmed like a pubescent boy's when he lowered his gaze back to her chest. June, for all she was irritating and liked to call him Mutton Chops, was still an attractive woman. That was something he couldn't ignore.

"Don't get too excited," she taunted, though there was a warning glint in her eyes. Make one wrong move, she seemed to say, and I'll chop it off.

Jee scowled. "I am not like that, woman. I simply—"

Tomoki's hand went past his vision, disappeared down the front of her tunic, and came back with a vial of antidote. Jee's eyes widened. That, that wispy-chinned sprout had just—

"What?" Tomoki said, blinking at them both. "They're just lumps of fat."

June snorted.

"Give me that," Jee muttered, snatching the vial from him.

Soon, the antidote was administered and the bounty hunter was back on her feet. They managed to swear her into secrecy about the whole curse and the prince running off with the Avatar thing—with some extra gold coin incentives, of course. Now all they had to do was find her shirshu and get back to the ship, or at least find Tomoki a healer.

And some clothes.

"Not bad," June said, eyeing the younger firebender up and down. "You soldiers really work out, huh?"

Tomoki just blinked. "I don't feel so good."

Jee sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Yes. They really needed to find him a healer.

Chapter Text

The Duke had been hoping to run into Lee, Aang and all the others again. He just hadn't expected to learn that his little firebender buddy was actually a big firebender. In fact, the boy named "Lee" had never existed, not in the technical sense. The whole thing had been a lie.

Not that anyone had told The Duke the truth at first. He'd just felt an odd sense of familiarity with Katara's boyfriend, that Zuko guy. Zuko had said weird things he shouldn't know as well, like correcting people that it was The Duke before they'd even spoken. The Duke had then noticed how similar Zuko and Lee looked, and he'd demanded to know what was going on.

"You don't carry that teapot around anymore," The Duke observed.

"Uh, yeah, the teapot was my uncle." Zuko gestured at an older man, who was talking to the others farther away. "As you can see, he's back to normal as well."

The Duke frowned and looked down at his feet. There was an odd sinking, wriggly feeling in his stomach. He had envisioned his reunion with "Lee" very differently. He'd thought they'd have fun and wrestle again (and The Duke would win this time, because he'd got a whole centimetre taller), but now his friend was all big. Not Pipsqueak big, but Jet big.

"This is weird," The Duke finally muttered.

"I know."

"I thought you were a kid."

"I know."

A much smaller voice. "Did you even care about us or was that a lie as well?"

Zuko knelt in front of him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Of course I cared. You guys helped me out. I'd probably be dead if you and Team Rice Ball hadn't come to save me when I was tied to those barrels."

His mouth twitched. "You still remember Team Rice Ball?"

"How could I forget? You forced me to play all those dumb games with you."

The Duke raised his head to meet Zuko's gaze. "You say that, but you still helped us to beat Team Arrows Are Cool."

"I don't like letting the Avatar win."

"Was that the only reason?"

Zuko flushed and looked off to the side, rubbing the base of his neck. "I … I suppose the games weren't so bad. Still dumb, but I guess they were kind of fun as well. Besides, you were all working so hard and—"

The Duke threw his arms around Zuko's middle. "Good."

"Huh?"

"You're still you."

"Um … what?"

"You're bigger and your name is different, but you're still you." The Duke pulled back with an almost shy grin. It was like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Even the sinking, wriggly feeling had gone. "I'm just happy, that's all. I didn't want to find that everything about you had been fake."

Zuko looked down at him in faint surprise, but then his expression relaxed into a smile. "I see."

They talked for a long time after that—about the Freedom Fighters, about what had happened to Plum and the others. The Duke shot little glances up at his friend, gradually letting go off that image of Tiny Lee as Big Zuko got clearer and clearer.

Big Zuko was pretty cool. Big Zuko could use dual swords, and while he could be awkward at times and couldn't tell jokes, he had a wicked knack for sarcasm and liked to tease The Duke. He also thunked his fist lightly on The Duke's helmet in an affectionate gesture that made said boy grin with manic happiness.

It was like being with Jet again, except also not at all. Big Zuko was gentler. Big Zuko didn't want to blow up towns, and Big Zuko was happy to humour him.

"Will you teach me how to use your swords?" The Duke eventually dared to ask. (He'd asked Jet the same question once, but Jet had always fobbed him off by saying he was too busy, and to keep training with the flash pellets and such instead.)

Zuko looked him up and down. "You think you can handle them?"

"Yes!"

A faint smile. "Alright then."

The Duke's grin got so wide it made his cheeks hurt. Yes, Big Zuko was pretty cool.

Chapter Text

He's missing, they say. Presumed dead.

Azula smiles like it means nothing. Like she hasn't spent the past few years collecting every scrap of information about him. Besides, it was only because she liked to be in the know, only because she lived her life by contingencies and just in case. She's not sentimental. She's not weak and dumb like him.

But her chest still tightens. There's a burning, clawing thing in her throat, and the words "presumed dead" echo over and over in her mind like a bell that won't stop. They creep into her heart and settle in the beat until she lives and breathes the words.

Presumed dead.

How like him to be so useless. He can't even die right. Just like Mother. No body to turn to ash with pyre flames, no concrete end. He's a door that'll never shut, a question that'll never be answered.

The missing. The maybe dead.

Sometimes, she sits in front of the mirror and tries to find him in her reflection. She found her mother there, but he is more elusive.

She hates him.

"You stupid dum-dum," she hisses at his empty room. (Everything untouched. Everything frozen in time to the day he was carried away with his face half burnt off, the ink ordering his banishment still fresh. She'd smiled then as well.)

Azula glares at his bed, at the fact that even in this space that had been his there is nothing. No answers. Nothing to soothe the burning, clawing thing stuck in her throat. He's not here. He hasn't been here for almost three years.

(If he had just kept his mouth shut. If he had just followed her lead more. If he had just stopped being so him …)

There's no body, so she buries the memory of him as deep as she can. She trains and trains and trains until she creates lightning for the first time and her father smiles. (His smiles aren't warm, not like her dum-dum brother's, and the faint curve of his lips only lasts a split-second. Her lightning isn't perfect, he informs. She has to do it again.)

The burning, clawing thing won't leave her alone. It sneaks out when she's trying to sleep, whenever silence settles and her heart thumps its tired song of an empty room and a letter tied with black ribbon. Once, her eyes even prickle. She doesn't like that. It opens holes and lets memories slip out—older, almost forgotten memories. Racing on white-gold sand, laughter and ice cream, quiet moments and a warm, big brother who was an idiot, but he was her idiot.

"You weren't supposed to leave," she whispers.

It's a thought she keeps close to her heart, never uttered for others. Her dum-dum wasn't supposed to leave. Even when she'd tried to convince herself she was happy he was banished, happy that she could become the heir, a part of her had felt so lost.

So alone.

She goes to the garden. It's barely tended to these days because Father doesn't care about this garden. (And Mother and Zuko aren't here anymore.) There are no turtleducks in the pond. Somehow ,that makes her chest tighten even more and the clawing lump in her throat get bigger. It chokes.

It hurts.

"Princess Azula."

A servant has found her, the same one who had always delivered the messages about Zuko. There is a note in his hand but it is not tied with black ribbon. Her heart stutters. Even so, her expression is calm as she takes the note and reads the news.

"So, my brother is alive," she says.

She smiles like it means nothing.

Chapter Text

The soldiers try very hard not to laugh. They already learnt their lesson from Firebender Ryo, who'd had the misfortune to let out the smallest—just the smallest—snort of amusement within Princess Azula's hearing. (The helmet will cover Ryo's new baldness, but nothing will salvage his dignity.)

Still, wooden faces and stifled laughter aside, nothing can change the princess's, uh, little predicament. That also means they are in big trouble, because cute as she looks, she is still royalty and is fast becoming a tiny nightmare.

"No one is to breathe a word of this to anyone," she hisses as she marches up and down the line of soldiers, wads of cloth trailing behind her like some ridiculous train. (No one had any outfits in her size.) "I will be checking every letter that is sent, and if I find anything about me, even the smallest hint, you will find yourself going on a permanent vacation to the bottom of the sea."

"Princess Azula," Zhao says smoothly. (He has more nerve now that she is knee height.) "May I suggest you—"

"Quiet!" She rounds on him like a whip of ice. "Did I ask you to speak?"

His eye twitches. "You did not."

"Then do not interrupt me again."

Admiral Zhao bows like he has a wooden plank strapped to his back. There are ugly things brewing behind his eyes, but he keeps his mouth shut.

The Tiny Terror finishes her speech and sweeps off to her cabin. Or tries. The trailing fabric gets stuck in the door. She opens it again, raises her chin and glares at everyone haughtily, and then she scoops up the fabric and once more leaves. The door does not slam, but somehow the calm click is more chilling than any dramatics.

Firebender Ryo lets out a little groan. "We're all going to die, aren't we?"