Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The train ride was bumpy.

They had made it to the city- were safe from Azula, safe from the Rough Rhinos. They’d escaped the two men seeking the bounty on their heads, had successfully passed through the strict customs gate. Uncle was healing fine and could go for long stretches without tiring. But it was hard to appreciate these facts when they just spent a long ferry ride with a stingy captain, a lanky freedom fighter was following them and would not leave them alone, Uncle had caused a close call by firebending to heat his tea, and now this train was jolting them so consistently every couple of minutes that Zuko could time it.

And he’d thought riding a nervous ostrich-horse was tough on his backside.

Uncle was still cooing, pulling faces, and generally making a fool of himself at the small baby next to him in her mother's arms. Sometimes it felt impossible to be seen with him. Looking out the window wasn’t much better. The view showed the vast majesty of the Earth Kingdom capital, but Zuko was less than impressed. The buildings were blocky and uninteresting. The muted greens and dusty browns were nothing like the vibrant vermillion and gold of his nation. With every second he was getting further and further from home.

“Nephew.” Uncle’s voice pulled him from his homesick thoughts. “Look, you can just start to see the palace from over the wall.” Uncle pointed to the east where far in the distance a large smudge could be seen above all the smaller smudges. The smudge was, of course, squarish in shape.

“Why should we care about the palace? It’s not like we’ll ever go there.” Zuko tightened his arms across his chest and lowered his voice. “Not like we’ll ever go to any palace ever again.”

Uncle spared a glance at the trains' other occupants and spoke cryptically. “I think the time away from home, spent not pursuing an unreasonable task, will be good for you, Nephew.” He put his hand on one of Zuko’s crossed arms. “You can rest; focus on yourself, living, and what makes you happy.”

Zuko didn’t shrug off the hand on his arm but did close his eyes and turn his head away from his uncle.

They sat in silence for the rest of the ride.

Stepping down from the train platform and seeing the squalor the Lower Ring citizens lived in, Zuko wrinkled his nose. He didn’t understand how anyone could want to make a life here. But in this time of war, many didn’t have a choice. Refugees fleeing the war and its consequences flocked to the capital of the Earth Kingdom in droves, seeking a chance of a better life, a safer life.

In addition to getting them passports for Ba Sing Se, uncle’s mysterious and secretive Pai Sho enthusiast friend had provided them with a small sum of Earth Kingdom silvers and coppers to start them on their new journey. Zuko refused to think of it as their new life. He could never go back to his old life but he couldn’t just… he couldn’t. The meager funds mostly had to go toward finding a place for them to stay, but a portion would be used to obtain the food and few supplies they’d need to start them off in the city.

“Many hands make light work, nephew, why don’t I find us a place to stay while you obtain some lunch? Perhaps you could take some time to explore this great city as well! Find some friends your age, hmm?” Uncle smiled and elbowed him in the side. “We can meet here at the train station around midday.” He pointed at the sun in the east making its way across the early morning sky.

“Leave you alone and have you get distracted by every old hag that catches your eye? I don’t think so.” Zuko said, narrowing his eye at his uncle. Uncle’s terrible flirting habits aside, the idea of splitting up in a big city full of people who would love to get their hands on the legendary Dragon of the West did not sit well with him.

“You wound me, nephew, I promise to stay on task and watch my back as well.” Uncle said still with a smile but it had a wry edge to it. He was more perceptive than Zuko gave him credit for...sometimes. Leaving uncle alone for a few hours would probably be okay, he had a goal to complete and that could curb his scatterbrained tendencies and bizarre side trips. Besides, Zuko could quickly gather their food and the few things they’d need, and if he finished fast enough he could find Uncle and keep him out of trouble.

“Fine, but if you’re not here when I’ve finished I’m going to come find you.” Zuko said, somehow both a promise and a threat. “And you better not stop at every tea shop you find.”

“You have my word.” Uncle said, face serious and a hand over his heart. Zuko exhaled heavily through his nose.

He was not lost, Ba Sing Se’s streets just made no sense. There were no markings on the roads and in the few instances a sign existed, it was so worn the characters were illegible. When he swallowed his pride long enough to ask for directions, the man gave him convoluted instructions that put him in another direction entirely and got him...turned around. Not lost.

There were vendor stalls on both sides of the street, and the people pushing past him never ended. Two different children had attempted to pick his pocket, and at every turn, he was accosted by merchants shouting over each other to promote their wares. He had already obtained some lunch, the fish had been a bit more expensive than the chicken-pig, but it was worth it for the familiarity. But the sun was steadily rising and he still hadn’t gotten the other supplies they needed. Losing his way had cost him time and he couldn't afford to be late to meet Uncle, the question was not if Uncle would find trouble but when.

Another vendor shouted about his authentic ‘Bosco the Bear’ trinkets too close to Zuko’s ear and feeling overwhelmed, he ducked into the next alley and leaned against the wall. Fighting the instinct to climb the brick and run to find his uncle.

This was ridiculous, he was wasting time being pathetic, Uncle could need help by now. Practicing his deep breaths, he straightened to leave, only to be met with the sight of a man cornering a small child at the other end of the alley.

“I know some people that can take you in, they’ve got plenty of food too, you got friends, kid? Are they earthbenders too?” The man was smiling but his dark eyes glittered with malice. He stood over the child and had one hand at the small of his back with the other on the boy’s shoulder. All of Zuko’s senses took in the scene and had him tensing, waiting for what would come next and how he’d stop it.

The kid wasn't taking his eyes off some point above the man’s shoulder. “I can’t I gotta meet- I mean my ma’s waiting- I mean I’ve gotta get home-I-” his shaking was noticeable even from this distance.

“It’s okay kid-” the man chuckled, crowding the boy against the wall. “I get it, you don’t have to make excuses, I help kids like you, ya know, I promise you’re in good hands.” Definitely a knife at his back. And as he began to draw it out from under his shirt, he looked up and saw Zuko.

He and the man stared at each other for a second and before either could react, the boy took advantage of this distraction and kicked the man in the shin, running out the end of the alley and disappearing into the throng of people. Yelling and swearing the man chased the boy into the crowd with Zuko hot on his heels.

This street was somehow busier than the other, and Zuko lost sight of the small boy. Fast. The man had lost him as well going by how his head was twisting and turning, searching over the crowd for the kid. Zuko struggled upstream through the mass but enough people were pushing back against him that he lost the man too. He stopped fighting the flow and moved with the crowd.

What in Agni’s name had just happened?

Petty crime was rampant in the Lower Ring, that was clear, but the man had been attempting to coerce a kid to come with him. Zuko was not unfamiliar with kidnappings, noble families were always aware of the kind of people that stole children hoping to ransom them for a small fortune. But to kidnap for ransom meant the family had to have money. The boy was in threadbare clothing, and dirty even to the Lower Ring’s rock-bottom standards. What else could the man have wanted with the kid other than financial gain? It was a chilling thought.

Zuko pushed the incident from his mind, he couldn’t pursue either of them even if he knew where they went, they were Earth Kingdom citizens, the enemy, and assuming the boy would even let him help, Zuko couldn’t. To assist them would be to go against the will of his father. He would not fail again. Even if he’d never take Zuko back as anything but a prisoner, he would not betray his father. His father, that ordered Azula bring them back in chains, as traitors. His father, that sent him on a seemingly impossible task. His father, that ignored his pleading, stared into his teary eyes grabbed him by his hair put a hand on his face and-

He was having a lot of unsettling thoughts today.

When the crowd had unintentionally pushed Zuko away from the alley, it had brought him toward a street he recognized. Shoulders slumping in relief, he stopped at the first stall he could find that sold the extra linens they’d need, ignored the retailer’s glare at his curt words and lack of eye contact, and picked and paid for them as fast as he could.

From here he could remember enough of this wretched city’s topography to reach the station he agreed to meet Uncle at. He had only been waiting a few minutes when he saw Uncle making his way over.

“I was about to come looking for you, it took you long enough, I thought you had gotten lost.”

“Nephew, I’ve not only found us an apartment, but also a most wonderful man who offered us both jobs at his tea shop!” His grin was wide as he swept his arms to the eastern street. “Let us feast on this wonderful smelling lunch you’ve procured for us in our new home. We can celebrate the beginning of our new lives!”

A tea shop. Leave it to Uncle to find, in this mess of a city, a tea shop that was hiring. The old man was incorrigible.

Lunch sounded good, Zuko’s stomach reminded him; too many days on the road with too little or no food made eating even Earth Kingdom rations worthwhile. But Uncle called this apartment their new ‘home.’ New jobs. A new home. A new life. Maybe Uncle could settle here, but Zuko would never fit in.

“This city is like a prison. I don’t want to make a life here.”

“Life happens wherever you are, whether you make it or not! Now come along, we start our jobs this afternoon.” Uncle gently nudged Zuko’s side. “I must say I’m excited to begin!”

The walk to their new...residence was short enough Zuko was confident he could find it again. It was a decrepit building crowded with obvious signs of life everywhere. Laundry lines were hanging between rafters, clothing laid over the railings, plants poking out open windows, and various toys were scattered across the courtyard. Belying all the signs of life, however, there were no people.

“Our new landlord said this time of day is always the quietest in the complex.” Uncle explained without prompt. ”Many people that live here make their living in the marketplace and surrounding shops in the mornings and afternoons.”

“As long as I don’t hear them ever I don’t care when or where they work.”

Uncle gave him a rueful smile and steered him toward the staircase. “Come, we are on the top floor! We have a wonderful view of the city, and just next door there is the nicest young family with a cute baby. I was talking to the young mother before I left to meet you, such kind people, perhaps you could offer them sitter services?”

Zuko studiously ignored his uncle and started up the stairs, they were rickety and creaked with each step no matter how light he tread. The banisters surrounding the balcony looked like a good breeze might snap them. The entire building smelled like old wood, every step felt gritty, the crunch of dirt under his shoes accentuating the dusty floors that had been left unattended too long. How had his life come to this?

At the end of the last hallway on the third and top floor was their room, and it was just that. A room. It was furnished with a single futon pushed up against the far wall, a shelf and a small desk with a stool in the corner, and a tall table under the first window. Even Zuko’s minuscule quarters on his outdated ship had had a wardrobe.

Aside from the worn green tatami flooring, every surface in the room was brown. Because what other color would it be.

Uncle threw his arms out, gesturing at the room. “Welcome to our new home, a blank slate for our second chance! What do you think nephew?” There was hope in Uncle’s voice, as he put his hand on Zuko’s shoulder.

Uncle’s warm hand, solid, familiar, and his steady smile made Zuko pause. Uncle Iroh wanted retirement, safety, and peace. Zuko remembered the patient hours Uncle spent rebuilding his confidence in firebending from the ground up. Remembered how he never raised his voice, even once. Remembered how excited Uncle was to see the city, to start a new life free from the fire nation, free from the Fire Lord. From Father. Abruptly, Zuko pushed aside these feelings, his weakness.

“It’s dirty and miserable just like the rest of this city.”

Uncle kept smiling but took his hand off Zuko’s shoulder. “Well, perhaps we can find time to tidy up in here and make it more of a home after work. But we must eat now nephew, I’d hate to be late for our new job!”

Their meal was silent, sometimes Uncle knew when to stop pushing and occasionally even respected when Zuko wanted to be left alone.

Zuko couldn’t sleep.

It had been a long day, and he shouldn’t be so tired from just walking around the city and then serving tea for a couple of hours, but the strain of living on the road for so long while keeping one eye open without steady meals or rest had worn him down. It wasn’t just the tiredness though, the missing spark rocks...that bothered him. Uncle would call him paranoid but he knew the rocks had been there this afternoon.

His uncle’s snores, usually a familiar comfort in a new place, are drilling into his skull. Or maybe that’s the baby wailing next door, or the family moving around downstairs, or the constant shuffle of people in the hall. Zuko was good at sleeping through noises, but these were foreign ones. Spending the night in new places set his teeth on edge.

If he couldn’t sleep he might as well do something with his time. With that in mind, he rose from his sleeping mat and crept to the window, keeping his eye on Uncle to make sure he stayed asleep. The windows of the apartment across from theirs were dark, as were most of the windows in the complex, so there was no one to witness him slipping out over the ledge to the balcony.

The balcony was ancient, boards slanted and warped, and walking across it without sound was difficult but not impossible. It was a quick trip up to the roof, using a support beam to shimmy up to the edge of the shingles and swing on top of it. He looked out over the night, with its quiet streets, dim lamps, and sleepy energy. Time to be productive.

He was not going to get lost in this spirits-forsaken city again, and at night with almost no people clogging the streets, fewer perils and distractions, it was easier to breathe, focus and decipher the confusing district.

The pattern of the streets was easier to discern from up above, the buildings were arranged in blocks, some uniform some differing in height and size. It was open up in the air, but Zuko could see the various types of buildings had places for him to take cover as he snuck across the city from the rooftops. Laundry lines were hung between buildings, linens swaying in the breeze with lazy movements. Many roofs were being used for storage, crates and barrels offering shelter from prying eyes. Perfect. This would be much simpler than using the streets, with all their twists and turns and blind corners that kept him from seeing what was up ahead.

It was two steps back to take the running leap he needed to reach the house next to their apartment. The buildings in the Lower Ring were so packed it was going to be a cinch to get around this way. Landing on his toes, he sprinted across the roof and jumped to the next one. It only took a few buildings before he started recognizing the places below.

There was the stand he got their lunch this afternoon, up ahead, he can see the large fountain he’d overheard shoppers talking about in the market; to his right, there was the sign to the main marketplace and the train station beyond it. It was so much easier to navigate up here.

The wind rushing past his face as he ran was freeing, jumping to, and then climbing up the drainpipe in front of him came easy as breathing. He leapt to the ledge in front of him and used the momentum to clear a 10-foot gap between two buildings without breaking a sweat.

After so long on the ostrich-horse, after walking everywhere and being careful not to overexert himself when he was near starvation, the stretch in his limbs was invigorating. He was still hungry but that was easier to ignore now that he’d had two full meals today. This was the best he’d felt in weeks.

He was already halfway to Pao’s tea shop and it had taken a fraction of the time it had to walk it this afternoon. He came out of a controlled roll and scaled the balcony in front of him; when he reached the top he took in the birds-eye view. And caught his breath. He was getting out of shape, maybe he should do this every night.

A movement down on the street caught his eye; there was a small figure darting between the empty stalls of the marketplace. Stopping every few feet, they would peer around the boxes and barrels stacked haphazardly around the edges of the street and run forward to the next hiding spot.

Suspicious, Zuko kept out of sight and followed from above.

The Lower Ring was separated into multiple districts, this one was the 4th district, home to most of the newest refugees, known for its many storefronts, diverse cuisine...and its crime. If this kid was out here at this time of night, alone, they were up to trouble, or in it.

The kid came to a run-down warehouse and peered through one of the large windows, dropped and crawled through a narrow crack in the side of the building. Zuko stared for a moment and let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. It must be the kid’s hideout in the city, that’s all.

But as he made to stand, he heard a shuffle from across the street of the warehouse. In a second, he was flat on the roof.

Coming out of the alley on the other side of the street, two men dressed in dark brown tunics walked to the center of the road, looked around, and stalked down the path toward the train station, disappearing from view. But not before Zuko saw the scabbards at their sides.

He waited, considering from the lip of the shingles. When nothing else happened for a few minutes he leaned away from the edge, it was in all probability just a street kid returning to their dirty hovel to sleep. Maybe he should do the same. The men skulking around were most likely typical street thugs, part of one of the local gangs looking for an easy target when there were fewer witnesses. Not in this specific area for any real reason.

It was probably a coincidence. But Zuko knew from experience he was never that lucky.

With one last lingering glance at the warehouse, he turned away and started back to his own dirty hovel.

He didn’t get a lecture or any poignant proverbs in the morning, so Zuko figured Uncle hadn’t noticed he’d slipped out last night. They were going to the tea shop this morning. Apparently, when Uncle signed them up he’d promised Pao many early morning, all-day shifts.

It would be heaven for Uncle. Not so much for Zuko.

Yesterday had been mostly training, with Pao watching like a hawk over their every move. Well, watching Zuko’s every move. To what should have been no one's surprise, Zuko was not good at making tea. Uncle seemed to think that sort of knowledge transferred to him from the sheer amount of time they spent together. But no number of disappointed looks from Uncle when Zuko couldn’t remember how to mix any tea blends was going to fix that.

Serving common Earth Kingdom citizens was demeaning enough, but he wasn’t even good at it.

Uncle was in high spirits, humming as he strolled from the kitchen to the tables, smiling as he poured ginseng, oolong, green tea, knew just what to say to every customer, sweet-talked the older women, complimented the city guards on their bravery. He was getting loads of tips.

Zuko was getting...not as many tips.

“Thanks for the tea, it was so delicious! Tell Mr. Mushi I’ll definitely be back for more.” A woman gushed, standing up with her friend to leave.

“Sure.” Zuko avoided eye contact and briskly gathered their empty cups on his tray before hurrying back to safety behind the counter. At least here there was a barrier between him and the customers. A lot of the older customers had tried to take his hand or pat him on the shoulder when thanking him. Either trying to distract him from something or another ulterior motive, he couldn’t tell yet. Some teenage girls had come in throughout the day and all of them leaned too close when ordering, a few had stared at him from across the room, hurriedly turning away when he glanced up. It was suspicious, why were they watching him so closely? Did they know he was Fire Nation?

The girls were the only tips he’d gotten all day. What did they want?

Questionable tips aside, he had resigned himself to existing predominantly as a busboy all day, cleaning tables and scrubbing dishes; while his uncle made the tea and schmoozed the customers and Pao, the lazy scrub, stood behind the counter, observing, smiling and probably counting earnings in his head.

Zuko’s fingertips were shriveled from soaking in water with the dirty cups. He absently rubbed them together as he trudged to the edge of the room to fetch some more used dishes, giving the customers a wide berth. The door opened and more people spilled into the shop. Sourly, he watched them as they chattered amongst themselves, oblivious to his glower.

This was beneath him. He was a prince and the rightful heir to the throne. He should be with his people. He thought of the warmth of his homeland, swimming in the mild ocean waters, feeling the soothing heat of Agni’s rays. His heart felt barren and cold as the North Pole, he would never set foot on his nation’s soil again. Instead, he was here. With an endless supply of dishes to scrub. He ran his wrinkled fingers through his spiky hair, let out a harsh sigh and gathered the used cups.

The shop was busy enough that Zuko didn’t even notice their shift was almost over until a customer mentioned how late it was to him before she left. He suppressed a grimace as he went to clear the table she had been at. He couldn’t wait to leave, maybe they could go early, there were barely any customers now. He could hear Uncle talking to one, another guard, receiving compliments and giving them in turn.

Then the door was opened so hard the walls shook, and a boy, that ‘freedom fighter’ was pointing a finger at him and Uncle, accusing them of being firebenders.

Zuko shared a look with Uncle and hoped his unspoken this is your fault you ‘wise’ old man was heard.

Jet offered ‘proof’ that Uncle was a firebender by saying he heated his tea. As if they weren’t currently in a tea shop. Was this guy honestly that daft? Zuko was willing to let the city guards handle it, as they looked prepared to defend the man who made them their precious tea, but then Jet stepped forward. Gaze fixed on Uncle.

“You’ll have to defend yourself.” He said, taking another step towards Uncle, swords raised. “Then everyone will know.” He kept advancing, hooked swords glinting in the lamplight, deathly sharp, eyes solely on Uncle. “Go ahead, show them what you can do.”

Zuko saw red.

He snatched the hilt of the guard’s sword and stepped between his family and danger.

Pao did end up letting them leave early, most of the customers had fled the building during Jet and Zuko’s little display anyway. The rest had cleared out when the Dai Li showed up.

The walk back to their apartment is deafeningly quiet until it isn’t.

“It might be best for you to avoid anymore swordplay while we’re here, it could attract the wrong kind of attention.”

That was rich considering it was Uncle that snagged the kid’s scrutiny by firebending his tea.

“If you didn’t want me defending you-” Zuko grit out through his teeth. “You shouldn’t have made us targets in the first place.”

Uncle acquiesced with a bow of his head. “That is true, I will admit my hand in this, however, the guard whose swords you stole was ready and willing to defend us. By taking his swords and fighting the young man, you attracted more attention to yourself than his accusation already had.”

“So you expected me to stand there and do nothing while he threatened you?” Zuko tried to keep the anger out of his voice but it was impossible. He was livid. At Uncle for being careless. At Jet for raising his swords at the one person in Zuko’s life that still cared about him. At himself, because he knew Uncle’s words were right.

Uncle looked at him, brow furrowed. “I only wish you would think through your actions, and worry more about yourself than your foolish old uncle. Now, there’s no use in crying over spilled tea, as it were. I think we have both learned important lessons from this, and we can move forward with them in mind.” He put his hand on Zuko’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “We had a long and exciting day, we should go to bed when we get home, a man needs his rest, after all.”

Zuko’s blood still felt too hot after getting to fight with swords again. Sleep was not going to come easy.

When they were near the top of the stone steps leading up to their apartment building, Uncle slowed, and Zuko shot him a sharp look.

Uncle placated him. “I’m alright Nephew, just a little short of breath due to the parting gift from my niece. Nothing a little rest won’t fix.” He said with a pointed look.

As they entered the main courtyard, Uncle stopped to smile and say hello to a tall fatigued-looking young woman with a bright-eyed wide-awake child clinging to her hand.

“Lady Ila, good evening!” He bent to address the small child. “Hello little Tae-Soo, isn't it a bit past your bedtime?” He chuckled, patting the toddler on the head.

She giggled and boldly tugged on his beard as her mother, Ila, said. “Somebody is a little too excited to sleep, and needs to be tired out first.” Ila smiled down at Uncle. “It’s good to see you Mushi, how are you settling in?” She seemed to notice Zuko for the first time and said, voice colored with humor. “Is this your beloved nephew I’ve heard so much about?”

She started to smile at Zuko but her face froze, she must’ve seen it. The scar. His brand. Now would come the pity and questions, the sympathy for the poor ‘victim’ of the Fire Nation. As if he hadn’t deserved his punishment; as if the Fire Lord was wrong to discipline Zuko’s arrogance, disrespect, and subsequent cowardice. But just as her smile had dried up, it returned, and she met his gaze when he looked at her.

“Yes.” Uncle either didn’t notice her reaction or was ignoring it. Knowing the old man it was the latter. “This is my Lee. Nephew, say hi to our neighbors! Lady Ila kindly offered her spark rocks for me to borrow last night, when we lost ours, remember?”

“Yeah, hi.” Zuko avoided her eyes. He didn’t want to meet these people, he didn’t want them to meet him. To meet ‘Lee.’ He wanted to sit and sulk in their dingy apartment until a miracle happened and Father would take him back. Let him come home.

A tug at his tunic captured his attention.

“Bug.” Tae-Soo said seriously, face pulled into a pout, pointing at a spider-beetle on the ground.

“Yes, it is.” Zuko said intelligently.

She looked up at him and beamed. “Up!” She said, raising the arm not clinging to his tunic for dear life, opening and closing her chubby fist.

“Um-” he glanced at her mother, not panicking at all.

“C’mon Soo, we have to go home, it’s sleep time!” Ila said encouragingly, scooping up her child and bouncing her on her hip. Tae-Soo whined but squeezed her little limbs around her mother. “It was nice meeting you, Lee.” Then she addressed them both, “goodnight!”

Uncle waved to them as they walked toward the stairs. “Such a wonderful young lady, and a handsome baby.” He started up the stairs of the complex. “I believe her husband works away from home for days at a time, it would be courteous to extend a helping hand if she needs. It will be good for a strapping young man such as yourself-” he patted Zuko’s bicep, “to carry the groceries of a young mother up the stairs from time to time.”

“I don’t want to be friendly with her or anyone else in this city.” Zuko scowled as he nearly broke the flimsy lock on their door trying to open it. “I hate this place, and I don’t know anyone here.”

"A rolling stone gathers no moss, Nephew.” Uncle said in his ‘I drink tea, contemplate and also don’t breathe fire at every inconvenience so you should listen to me’ voice, placing his pack on the counter. “The longer we are here, the more connections you will make. The more you will relate to these people, and their struggles."

Zuko stalked to the wall where his sleeping mat was rolled up, grabbed it, threw it on the ground, and flopped down onto it facing away from Uncle.

He anticipated Uncle’s sigh before it reached his ears. It didn't take long for him to lay down, the futon creaking under his weight, and Zuko rolled over and tried to sleep. But sleep would not take him. He laid still and forced himself to relax, attempting to calm the tension of his mind. Inhaling deeply and uncurling his fists.

For a while he focused on the snores reverberating next to him- smelled the faint traces of the tea leaves Uncle kept on the shelf above the cooktop. He thought of the dual swords stashed underneath a loose floorboard below the futon. Inches from him.

He couldn’t take it any longer. In a breath, he was out the window and had flipped onto the roof, jogging down the tiles to take a running leap to the next one.

He had to burn off this energy, and running was the third-best physical activity to tire him out. Nothing could beat firebending, but using his swords was a close second, not that he could risk that now. Like always, Uncle was right, he couldn’t attract the attention of the local military, they might try to question him or lock him up. Maybe even, Agni forbid, recruit him.

A breeze cut through his thin shirt as he dug his fingers into craggy brick and scaled the side of a house. Better to stay uninteresting and unappealing, no fire or steel.

His bending, that he’d finally started relearning advanced forms for, after nourishing the spark leftover from the bonfire of who he used to be. His Dao, that he was actually good at- that he could use with confidence and flair; that made the useless and unwanted feelings abate. How much of himself would he have to suppress in this prison?

He threw himself at the next awning, gripping the ledge and twisting his body up and over it, tumbling across the roof and springing over the house’s ledge. He stepped lightly as he ran, making little sound as he worked to exhaust his energy. His run took him all the way across town toward the puny park in the center of this district, and he stopped on top of a house chimney to catch his breath.

Hands on his knees, breathing hard and feeling his heart pound, he heard a deep muted voice below. Crouching over the chimney, still panting, he could just make out every other word along with a muffled high-pitched sound.

“...almost got enough to start… but then we’d have to move them, fast. If… we’ll be… for sure… what’ll happen when… but luckily… shortage of… new kids… put to work.”

What the hell kind of conversation is that.

The whine gets louder until there’s a thump and a different man’s voice, thin and reedy, shouts, “Will you shut up? I won’t hesitate to clock you, kid, you need to keep quiet or I’ll make you.”

The shrill sound cuts off at his words and the men continue talking in hushed tones.

There’s a kid in there, they threatened a kid with violence if they didn’t stop crying. Confidence and violence covered the words being said. That was not their child, and if it was, they didn’t deserve them.

His anger from earlier rekindled.

Treading as lightly as he could, Zuko crept to the edge of the roof and checked the side of the house, there was a single window, cracked open, and a light was on inside. He shuffled to the side and dropped down without a sound, inching along the wall to be underneath the windowsill. Raising his head, he peered over the edge.

In the single room three men were sitting around a table; a tall one with a shaved head, a short wiry one with at least three knives on his belt, and one with a pot-belly and a thick mustache. But what Zuko’s eye lingered on was the kid in the corner, he was a young boy with shaggy brown hair, maybe ten years old, tied-up, gagged and shaking, with tear tracks on his face. His eyes were screwed shut.

Before Zuko’s ingrained impulse to jump in the window and bash some heads kicked in, tall baldy’s deep voice spoke up. “They’re late.”

Knife-Man pins him with a hard glare. “They’re always late, besides we only got one this time, easier to hide the evidence if it comes to it.” He gave the kid a cold calculating look. “This is better than the small ones anyway, you can’t reason with them they just keep cryin’.”

“Still, I want to go home and sleep.”

“Yeah yeah, keep your shirt on.”

They’re waiting for someone. These people are going to take the kid to… who knows where. He has to do something. Now.

He ducked down and looked around the alley for a weapon. His fingers twitched, he should’ve brought the damn swords. There were barrels, and crates from the shop next door, and a pile of assorted sized lumber. The lumber was damp from a recent rain, good, that could work for a cover.

He hastily lit the end of a thin piece and got it smoldering, doing the same to a few other sticks, and threw them all in the window and waited. The longer it took them to notice it the denser the smoke would get, and the better off Zuko would be. As soon as he heard exclamations, he ran around to the door and with a well-aimed kick, knocked it off its hinges.

Two of them were stomping on the smoking wood, Knife-Man used some colorful words when the door hit the floor. The smoke in the room wasn’t nearly thick enough, but it was enough to keep their eyes watering and hopefully prevent them from focusing on his face.

Leaping onto the table, he used the height for momentum to jump off and kick one man into the other and they crashed into a heap, getting stuck in some boxes that broke under their weight.

The mustached man struck out with a speed that belied his size and the air displaced by the force of his swing ruffled Zuko’s hair as he ducked. He rolled behind him, snatching an empty sack from the ground he leapt and threw it over the man’s head, tightening the string on it. Already off-balance, Zuko’s shove knocked him to the ground.

He didn’t spare the man a glance as he turned to get the kid. This had to be quick.

His hands were tied but not his feet and he seemed uninjured, so Zuko ignored his fearful wide-eyed stare and hauled him over his shoulder, making a break for the doorway. But something snagged his ankle and he fell hard to his knee, scrambling not to drop his charge.

It was the large man, one hand struggling with the sack, he somehow had managed to seize Zuko’s ankle in the other. Meaty fingers dug deeper into Zuko’s skin and pulled. The sharp pain in his knee strained further, and he suppressed a gasp. Kicking out with his other foot, he felt flesh give as the man gave a strangled yell and let go, scabbling at the cloth over his face.

Zuko was out the door in a flash.

As soon as he hit the street he was off. The kid over his shoulder was skin and bones, so scaling the brick of the building in front of him was no struggle. When his feet touched shingles, he processed the shouts behind him. He sped up, calves burning, knee throbbing, but pushed through it.

He ran to the roof’s edge and jumped for the next one. The yelling was fading but he couldn’t stop until he felt safe enough. Until he was sure he’d lost them. His passenger was making muffled noises, but nothing like the high-pitched crying Zuko had heard earlier, so he kept going, looking for a good perch.

The building he settled on had a clothesline hung across the top, obscuring most of the rooftop, providing ample cover. He set the kid down, careful not to jostle him. Deft fingers removed his gag before starting to untie his hands. That’s when the floodgates opened.

“Are you a spirit? Where did you come from? Did my sister send you? What’s your name? What happened to your face? How’d you climb so fast? Can I climb that fast? Where are you taking me? Can I go home? If I can’t, can I live with you? Where do you live? Is it nearby? Ho-”

Zuko finished with the last knot and put his hand over the boy’s mouth. “I’m taking you to the nearest guard station unless you have a home and know how to get there.” He ignored the other questions.

“Why wouldn’t I have a home?” The boy said, aghast, “But I don’t know where we are, they had a bag over my head most of the time and…” He trailed off with wide brown eyes then shook his head and didn't finish the sentence. “My name’s Ryu, what’s yours?” He was leaning in Zuko’s face now, but his arms were still trembling, and he was gripping Zuko’s shirt very hard.

Zuko ignored his question again. “It’s only a five-minute walk to the nearest station, you can tell them everything you remember and they’ll find your home.” He took the boy, Ryu, by both his shoulders. “But you can’t tell them about me, understand?”

Ryu’s mouth dropped open. “What? But you're my hero! I gotta tell them, and my friends and my mom and my sister and-”

“You can’t.” Zuko thought fast, what had the kid said about spirits? “Because the more people that know I exist the less powerful I am.” He said, praying that any deity would listen and Ryu would buy it. He seemed rattled enough to.

Ryu’s eyes defied physics and got bigger as he slapped a hand over his mouth. “You are a spirit! Oh wow, I won’t say anything Mr. Spirit sir, but- wait, if I can’t talk about you, does that mean I can say I rescued myself?”

“...yes.”

“YES!”

Getting Ryu off the roof was an experience, he insisted on climbing down by himself even though his scrawny arms were shaking. Zuko could almost pretend it was from the strain of holding his own weight and not from residual fear. When all four skinny limbs were safe on the ground, Zuko steered him in the direction of the station. One blessedly short walk filled with a constant stream of chatter later, the guard station was in sight.

Zuko pointed to the building, with its obvious sign and bright lights shining from the windows and interrupted Ryu mid-sentence. “There it is, I’m waiting here and I won’t leave until you’re in the building.” He met Ryu’s eyes. “You remember not to say anything about me, right?”

“Of course! I won’t tell them but I won’t forget you either, thankssomuchmrspiritsir.” And faster than an eel-hound could sprint, Zuko had two scrawny brown arms with startling strength wrapped around his middle.

Eye wide he stared down at the wild brown hair smushed against his chest. “Uh. You’re welcome.” He patted his head once, wondering how long this would take. “You should go. I’m sure your family misses you.”

Ryu gave him a watery grin, before turning and bolting for the station. Looking back once and waving, he opened the door and stepped inside.

Zuko stood there for a few beats and then made his getaway as the sky brightened, heralding dawn.

Well, so much for staying out of trouble.

The tea shop was quiet the next day. Which was good for Zuko, the dark circles under his eyes were big enough that Uncle had pointed them out. But when he, in a subdued voice, admitted to having trouble sleeping because of yesterday's events, Uncle gave him a sorrowful look and slipped him a cup of green tea along with some advice to take it easy today. So he was standing behind the counter, keeping his weight off his sore knee, an eye on the shops only customer, while sipping his tea. This is why he noticed the woman’s face when she came in.

She looked worse than he did, with a downturned mouth, hollow eyes, and slow steps, a stack of papers under her arm. She came up to the counter and said in a firm voice that contradicted her appearance; “Excuse me, but I was hoping I could put a missing person flyer on your board.” She gestured behind her to the corner of the shop.

They had a board on the far wall with a few posters, Zuko had checked it when they first started here, but his and Uncle’s faces were not on it. There weren’t any ‘wanted’ posters at all. The papers were mostly flyers for community events, missing pet posters, and ads for other local businesses. There were one or two missing person posters as well.

“It’s for my daughter, my Nima, she’s been missing for three days now, have you seen her?” She thrust one of the flyers she had into his hand. “She’s eleven, she has black hair and she always has her favorite clip in it, it has a rabbiroo on it.” Eyes wide and pleading she pointed at the drawing of the clip next to the one of her daughter’s face. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Uncle look up from the pot of tea he was brewing, forehead creased.

“I’m sorry, I haven’t.” He said quietly, taking the poster. “I’ll go find a spot on the board.” He made eye contact with Uncle and fled to the corner of the shop.

Uncle came around the counter carrying a steaming cup and with a gentle hand, steered the woman to the nearest seat. “Have some tea, it will strengthen your spirit.” He pushed the cup into her hands and continued to speak in soft tones with her.

Zuko tacked up the poster as he listened to Uncle spew nonsense and riddles in an attempt to console the distraught mother. He hadn’t made the connection before, but the other missing person posts on this board were for children. Something was going on here. None of this was a coincidence. Some men were kidnapping children and moving them somewhere else, for what? Why? Who takes a child without ransoming money?

The woman across the room gave a choked sob.

“I bet you think I’m a coward, and you’d be right to.” The only patron in the shop spoke up in a low voice from where he was sitting, right next to Zuko and the board of posters. “An off-duty guard sitting here letting someone else comfort a woman whose child is missing. Truth is, son, I’ve run out of platitudes for these parents. At least six children have gone missing over the last two weeks and we don’t have anything for them. And in this district, all these refugees too scared to ask for help, the number of kids is certainly higher.”

Someone had to do something.

“We’ve all been pulling double shifts, we’re so short-staffed, damn Middle Ring won’t send us any support. No man-power to find any leads and no leads to send the men we have after. And just last night, so late the sun was almost up, a miracle happened. A missing kid came to the station, scared as a hogmonkey at a barbeque. Said he’d gotten away from three men with weapons, but he was so terrified he could barely remember their faces. Had trouble recalling how he escaped, too.”

Someone did do something.

“I’d give just about anything for another of those miracles.” The man’s tired and somber eyes didn’t look away from the crying woman. His gruff voice continued, “I reckon she would too.”

But he couldn’t risk it again, those men might’ve seen his face, his very distinctive face.

Zuko, son of Ursa and Fire Lord Ozai, Prince of the Fire Nation and heir to the throne, couldn’t help those kids. They were refugees in the Earth Kingdom, to aid the enemy was treason, to go against the will of his father was unthinkable. And the chance of his help being thrown back in his face was almost certain. He had failed before, it would happen again, failure always followed Zuko like a dark shadow. Lee was a simple tea server, a nephew, a refugee, unimportant and unassuming. Lee couldn’t help those kids. But maybe...

The Blue Spirit could.

Chapter Text

Zuko was staring.

The empty eyes of the Blue Spirit mask gazed right back as if weighing his previous actions, judging if he was worthy of wearing it.

He would be an honorable man. He could do this again, just differently. Not the short-lived thieving stint, he’d promised Uncle he wouldn’t do that anymore. Not the traitor to his nation wanted across the colonies, death sentence issued by his own people hanging over his head. But what the Blue Spirit was supposed to be, an anonymous ghost, restrained by no masters.

He still had this mask he’d stolen from that Earth Kingdom town, and the dark clothes he’d taken with it. His pilfered swords could serve a better purpose here, in Zuko’s hands they were a symbol of honor. Correctly handling them required treating them with respect, not irresponsibly wielded, used to intimidate and mock an old man like that scum he’d taken them from had done. He reached up to touch the hilt of the swords, a comforting weight strapped to his back.

All his gear had been stowed beneath a loose floorboard under Uncle’s futon. He’d retrieved it slowly, timing his movements with the deafening inhales of snoring. Mask and swords packed in his bag, he’d snuck out of the window, heavy breathing droning on behind him. It had been better to don them elsewhere, away from the place he and Uncle slept, where no prying eyes could connect the two, and even more importantly, where Uncle would not see him and worry about Zuko drawing more unwanted attention to himself.

Trading one last look with the inanimate gaze held in his palms, he slipped on the mask. Donning it again brought a sense of relief. With it, there was no obligation, no rules to follow, no responsibility to a distant father. He was not Prince Zuko, the royal disappointment, subpar firebender and failure son. He was free.

Mask firmly in place and stepping into the shadows, he got to work.

Hunting required knowing where your prey’s habitat was, but it was difficult finding a starting point when the only lead available was abandoned. Checking the house from the night before has proven to be a waste of time, they’d cleared the building floor to ceiling, nothing was left, taking him back to square one.

Of course, Zuko spent three years chasing a myth that hadn’t been seen in a century. Said mystical being had been in his grasp more than once. If he could find the impossible, finding the difficult should be child’s play.

How hard could it be to unearth a bunch of criminals in the largest city in the world?

Now swinging onto the roof of the frustratingly abandoned hideout, he reviewed what he knew.

The Middle Ring wasn’t helping; this was a Lower Ring problem. At least six kids were missing. The two kids Zuko knew of were older, but the men implied they’d taken younger children. There was a gang of people doing this, at least four, almost certainly more. These men were combing the streets, specifically for kids on their own. They weren’t afraid to try to kidnap in broad daylight.

The last fact bothered Zuko the most; what kind of city had a military force that didn’t scare criminals?

Of course, this place was already like a prison, what else should they be afraid of, punishment? Zuko had yet to see Earth Kingdom forces take responsibility for their own. Letting their soldiers bully families, and leaving civilians to struggle their way through hardship and danger to reach Ba Sing Se by themselves, only to live penniless within the Earth Kingdom’s Great Wall of Destitution.

Since he’d stumbled onto every situation relating to this problem by accident, now that he was actually looking, his luck would never let him get more information so easily. He’d have to work twice as hard for clues. Proof of that was this building, mockingly vacant. But that didn’t mean there weren’t any options, and Zuko was used to hard work. The local guards had known of these kidnappings for longer; they should at the very least have some documentation on them.

So with his only lead snuffed out he’d be forced to rely on the local military’s records in the nearby guard station. The problem then became getting the information without being seen. When he’d cased it earlier, he found the station was open all day and all night with a rotating shift. Zuko would have to get in, find any reports and read them, and get out without alerting anyone of his presence. He had infiltrated the North Pole in sub-zero temperatures while it was under siege; these inadequate city guards couldn’t intimidate him.

He stopped on top of a stall in the deserted marketplace, tightening the ties on his mask. If the Earth King couldn’t be bothered to give a damn about his own people, these children, Zuko would pick up the slack.

The last time he’d rescued a little kid while under the guise of the Blue Spirit felt like a lifetime ago. With how much has changed in his life it might as well have been.

The street was quiet and still. Up ahead, the train platform was shut down for the evening, the shutters were closed on the shops below him, the area was at rest. A single spot of light, a solitary glow in the darkness of the plaza, shone from the flame of the lantern in the guard station window directly in front of him.

He stalked along the edge of the stall roof and watched the lit window for any movement. When nothing happened for several moments he dropped, then sprinted over to the side of the station, ducking behind a large crate there. He set his hand against the side of the building, focusing on his fingertips and feeling for any vibrations from any potential occupants inside.

Nothing. But the light was on, someone had to be here. He slowly peeked over the lip of the window.

A guard sat in a chair, hat resting in his lap, snoring, and wasn’t that typical of this shoddy military, snoozing away while their own people’s children disappear.

Zuko slid through the open window and darted over to the desks, the room was dim enough that risking being in the open was worth the potential reward. He shuffled through the parchment on a desk with haste, keeping his ears open for any change in the guard’s nasally breaths.

The files he was looking for were on the last desk in the last row, of course. There’s Ryu’s name in a list with five others, but he has a hastily written note about his reappearance. Ming-Su, Kai, Nima, Jian, Lao, Ryu. All missing from this district, the oldest was eleven, the youngest, six. All were confirmed as earthbenders. The suspect list attached to the file was as long as Zuko’s arm. It consisted of truly ridiculous names like: “Slippery Lu,” and “Crooked Kyung,” among others. Who came up with these?

Names, birthdates, home addresses, and a suspect pool too large to take seriously, that was all these papers had on them. How incompetent were these people?

A brief search found a map of this district pinned on the wall, which was a relief, this station was so barebones he almost hadn’t expected any. Every place on the list was in the same general area. With a few exceptions; some of the addresses listed on the file were more general areas than an actual place, either the Lower Ring’s infrastructure was really that bad or those kids families didn’t have a home. Some of the missing kids being homeless seemed more than likely. Refugees and vagrants lined many roads, the Lower Ring was full of them.

He glared at the map, that these people were made to live like that, with or without kids, was unjustifiable. The Earth King probably bathed in gold, he could spare some for his own nation; and as far as Zuko remembered, he never even left the safety of his extravagant palace. Reprehensible.

Of course, neither did Father, but Father cared for the people of their nation. Just like he cared for Zuko. Sometimes a bit of strictness was necessary to right a misguided path.

The man across the room snuffled and smacked his lips. Zuko put the papers back where he’d found them and slipped out the window, frustrated.

He scurried up the station wall and began the trek toward the apartment. The whole night was wasted, none of that information was useful. Both leads were dried up, there was no starting point to return to. He was entirely on his own. They’d be careful now, he’d never just stumble on another missing kid on the approximate five-block radius.

As if summoned by his thoughts, a scream echoed down the empty street.

His heart rate picked up, it might be related, he has to check. Switching directions, he rushed toward the house the sound came from.

He stopped at the door and assessed the small building in front of him. One-story, no lights on. A voice speaking in high tones. The scrape of steel leaving a sheath. A sharp cry.

He drew his swords and kicked the door open.

Inside were three people, only one of them had a weapon.

“What the hell are you supposed to be?” A man with a sack over his shoulder awkwardly pointed his sword in Zuko’s direction, away from the elderly couple cowering against the wall. “Back off, punk, this is my haul I was here first!”

Just petty theft. Might as well get some practice out of it.

The glaring opening in his clumsy stance was practically an invitation. Zuko easily sidestepped to the man’s left, getting on the inside of his guard, and swept his feet out from under him. The weapon clattered to the floor, skittering across the room; the bag spilled cheap trinkets and a few copper pieces that clinked as they scattered around the man’s prone form. Zuko planted a foot on his chest.

Or maybe not so much practice.

He stared at the couple unsure how to proceed, and they peered back at him just as frozen, eyes wide.

“Get off me you-!” The man beneath him gasped out, grappling unsuccessfully with his ankle.

Right, first things first. Sheathing his swords Zuko gripped the man’s upper arms and flipped him over, holding his wrists tight.

Looking at the old people still sitting in shock, he gestured with his head to the man he had pinned to the ground; hoping they’d understand what was needed.

Luckily the woman stood up and pulled the sash from her tunic, offering it to him with a trembling hand, staying as far away from him and the struggling man as possible.

Now snugly trussed up, the would-be-thief sat among the things he’d tried to steal, spitting curses and insulting Zuko’s heritage, though it was ineffective as the creative and colorful names were actually pretty amusing. Zuko was grudgingly impressed with the burglar’s vocabulary and innovation.

The old man, arm around the old lady, looked at Zuko, expression dazed, and said, “Who are you?”

Zuko was saved from answering by rapid footsteps echoing outside, coming closer.

It felt weird to leave without acknowledging the old man’s words while he and the woman were still gawking at him, so he nodded to them before jumping out their window and scaling the wall to the roof of their house.

“City Guard! What’s going on here-” a deep voice cut off then continued in a startled tone. “Kyoshi’s colossal boots, what happened here?”

If that was the dunce who’d been sleeping on the job, spirits willing, the unprofessional man could muster up the competence to handle this neatly wrapped present.

In the meantime, Zuko would do a patrol around the district. Sparing a glance at the guard leading the bandit away, his blood buzzed with the fact he did that. Emboldened by this success, he had a good feeling about how the rest of the search would go.

Zuko woke to Uncle’s cheerful and off-key humming spreading through the air along with the aroma of breakfast. He stifled a yawn as he rolled up his sleeping mat, they had another long day of tea torment to look forward to, which would be especially tedious since chasing all the false leads last night had aggravated his sore knee. He hadn’t found anything. Nothing else turned up last night, he’d ended where he began; with no idea where to go next. His good feeling lied just the same as Azula.

He tilted his face to bask in the sunlight streaming in through the window, massaging the stiff knee and absorbing the routine sounds of cooking and Uncle’s tuneless rendition of some Earth Kingdom love song about tunnels. Mornings for firebenders meant meditation and even if they couldn’t be firebenders right now, old habits were hard to break. It wasn’t the same without candles of course- but still, taking deep breaths to center himself, he attempted to meditate.

“Ah, good morning, Nephew, did you sleep well?” Uncle’s cheerful volume was always too much at this time of day and it shattered the peace of morning along with Zuko’s futile pursuit of tranquility. “The sounds of the city can often act as a lullaby.” Uncle wasn’t facing him but the mirth in his loud voice was unmistakable. “Although, at one point I thought I heard a noise outside, perhaps it was just a young and reckless pygmy puma thinking he’s being sneaky.”

“I didn’t hear anything.” Which was true, he’d slept hard after coming back from his excursion, it seemed he still had some rest to catch up on. But potential pygmy pumas hanging around could turn into more than a nuisance if they grew bold enough. It was weird though, he hadn’t seen any around last night, maybe they’d snuck around while he was gone.

Uncle handed him his bowl of breakfast, a dry smile on his face.

Zuko took the offered meal. “What’s that look for?”

“I’m just happy you’re adjusting well enough to sleep through the night, that is all.” He said but appeared more amused than happy.

As soon as they finished breakfast, Uncle put a pail in his hands and shooed him out the door to fetch water from the well for the dishes.

The Lower Ring didn’t have a water system, most places relied on well water. This apartment was no exception, the courtyard had a well for the residents’ use. He’d seen people gossiping around it more than once but it was currently deserted as he approached.

Zuko had just set the bucket on the ground when Ila entered the main gate, Tae-Soo on one hip, a basket of produce on the other. He watched her shift her weight then attempt to shuffle up the narrow staircase with the wide basket and a squirming child. His uncle’s instruction on neighborly behavior replayed in his head along with words such as ‘courteous,’ ‘helping’ and ‘friendly’ and he bit back a sigh.

He walked over, said, “Excuse me-” and swiftly retreated a step as she reeled against the banister.

“Holy sh- shoot! Wow, you are quiet, I had no idea you were there!” He was relieved when she laughed with the admission, Tae-Soo giggled too, wiggling her pudgy limbs and clearly enjoying her mother’s scare. “Good morning, Lee, how are you?”

“I’m… fine.” Small talk was the worst, this kind of stuff has never been easy for him, the nobles at home always gossiped about it when they thought he couldn’t hear. Is he supposed to ask how she is in return even if he really doesn’t care? Why is talking to people harder without Uncle’s steady presence? She’s raised an eyebrow. Oh, he’s taking too long he needs to say something, he’d better stick with what he was gonna ask before they startled each other. “Did you need a hand?”

“Oh,” she tightened her one-armed grip on the now squirming child. “That’s very kind of you, you don’t mind?” Ila seemed relieved as she offered the basket from her hip, he took it silently and followed her up the rickety stairs.

“So.” Oh no, more small talk. “Mr. Mushi told me you two traveled all around before coming here. How does the city compare to all the places you’ve been?”

“Um, it sure is… busy.” He trailed off, not sure what else he could say without insulting this woman’s home and nation. The komodo-rhino stables in his ship had smelt better on a bad day than this city does on a good one.

“You get used to it, the bustle is part of its charm.” Ila opened her door and gestured to the counter. “You can put it down here, thanks so much for your help!”

He did so and went to leave, ready for the end of this conversation. “You’re welcome.”

“Oh wait, before you go, Yan, my husband, is coming home in two days after a whole two weeks working in the Agrarian Zone and we always celebrate with his special wonton, they’re super delicious.” Zuko couldn’t see her face as she rooted through the basket but she sounded eager. “Would you and your uncle be able to join us for dinner?” She turned to shoot him a smile as she said it. “Yan always makes so much, and he’d love to meet you!”

“I don’t know. I’ll have to ask.” Maybe Uncle would say no. Yeah right, and maybe Zuko would master an advanced form before Azula. “Thank you for the invitation.”

“So formal! You two stop by if you can. It’s always nice to have friendly faces over!”

Stiffly, he nodded, feet pointed toward the door and waited to see if she had anything else to chatter about.

“Well, I won’t take any more time from your day.” She walked him to the hallway. “Bye, thanks again, say bye-bye, Soo!”

Tae-Soo leaned around Ila’s shoulder to wave, her big eyes squished shut with how wide her smile was. “Bye-bye!”

After the door had shut Zuko belatedly raised his hand, bewildered.

The routine of the tea shop was starting to become second-nature, greet the customer, bring them their order, wipe down tables, contemplate letting Azula catch him rather than deal with the old man at table four again, accept payment, wash dishes. Repeat ten thousand times.

It was just so… mundane, customers were mostly polite, the worst thing they did was insult his admittedly terrible manners. Pao was a greedy bastard but knowing what was expected of him and completing the tasks he was given with ease was almost refreshing. When Uncle complimented him on how the tables sparkled he caught himself smiling.

He scowled on principle.

Uncle walked by with a fresh pot of ginseng for table two and said, “In this business, the most important thing you wear is not your apron.” He pinched Zuko’s cheek. “But your expression.”

As he rubbed his face and shot his unrepentant, retreating uncle a betrayed look, two patrons walked in the open door and claimed a corner table, away from everyone else.

One of them, trying to hide a freshly broken nose with a low hood, looked very familiar.

Zuko surreptitiously turned to the right, giving his good eye a clear view of the two men. That’s the large man that’d had Ryu, the one that Zuko had kicked in the face. They were ordering, speaking to Uncle in a way that made Zuko wish he’d kicked harder as he struggled to keep from teaching them some respect. And just as they started mumbling between themselves, a voice spoke up behind him.

“You seem rather unoccupied at the moment, Lee, the floors are dirty again, would you mind terribly sweeping up before it bothers our valued, paying customers?”

Pao held the broom out with his fixed smile too wide on his thin face. Zuko snatched it from his hand and did not hit him with it despite what his temper was telling him to do.

As he swept, he drifted his way in the direction of the two men’s table until the muttering was comprehensible.

“Our output has been way better since we got that... volunteer labor,” the large man’s reedy companion said. “You think we can charge more for getting the goods out faster?”

‘Volunteer labor?’ For what?

“No, idiot, it hasn’t been long enough, we need to get them complacent first.” His voice was nasally from the injury but it still had a quality to it that made Zuko’s spine straighten, this man was used to giving orders and being obeyed without question. “And our new recruits aren’t as productive as they should be, you need to give them another lesson. Tougher, this time.”

Hearing them talk so indifferently about punishing children made his blood boil.

"Nephew, such vigorous sweeping will stir up the dust not gather it."

Zuko slowed his temper-fueled, jerky movements at the tame admonishment, studiously not looking up as Uncle walked by with another tray of steaming tea. He briefly shifted his focus to the small mountain he was creating from the mess their ‘valued customers’ dragged in, before concentrating on the conversation again.

“-waste rations on lazy workers, they’ll get their lesson instead of dinner tonight. You discipline them with the others, it’ll keep them busy and by then Fong should be back with the package and I’ll have more logistics to worry about without you simpletons getting in my way.”

He had to follow them after this, they might return to wherever they’re keeping the kids, and even better, there’ll be heads to bash and jerks to take his frustrations out on.

“What about that guy that uh- you know-” The man gestured to his own unharmed face and grimaced. The look he got in return could’ve frozen lava solid.

“We’ve taken measures, however he found us the first time it won’t happen again.”

If the conversation continued with any other beneficial details, Pao wouldn’t let him hear them as he snagged Zuko to resupply the main counter with tea leaves from the storeroom. When the front is finally stocked to Pao’s picky standards, the men are drinking their beverages in silence.

Waiting for them to finish their tea was frustrating to the point of almost ripping his own short hair out. When they do get up to leave, the large man, heedless of the other people in the shop, carelessly pushes past another customer. When she stumbles as she steps back to get out of their way, Zuko absentmindedly reaches out to steady the girl with a hand on her shoulder.

“Oh, thank you! That was really rude of them,” she edges closer, tucking a lock of black hair behind her ear. “Pretty handy you were right there, huh? My-”

“Yes, excuse me, I have to go talk to the owner about something.” Zuko interrupts and turns around fast enough that he doesn’t see her face fall, he has to follow up on this. He is absolutely not telling Pao he is leaving, the stingy man thinks breaks are ‘stealing the company’s time and money’ and would never let him go, and this is too important.

Thankfully Uncle is too busy to notice him slipping out the back door, apron left behind on the counter. His marks are up ahead, plowing a path through the crowd, eyes forward, oblivious to their tail.

The streets are busy enough for the throng of people to aid Zuko’s stealth through the narrow paths. The route they take goes all the way across the district, weaving down side streets and dark alleys, Zuko effortlessly blends into the shadows to keep up and remain unseen.

The building the two men go into looks so old he wonders how it’s still standing. It lists to the left and the wooden walls are warped in multiple places. This place is not secure, any shady business in there should not stay hidden for long. But as he catches sight of the door when it closes, the sound of numerous locks and chains locking rings across the street.

Giving the peeling boards and cracked roof tiles a second, more thorough survey confirmed that he could still find a weak point in the wall or roof to slip in through. Even with all the locks, it looks like they aren’t paranoid enough to worry about climbers.

Noting the easily recognizable landmarks, he makes his way to the apartment, he needed his gear. And to make up an excuse to tell Uncle.

Uncle always forgave him for the small discrepancies, leaving Pao’s early should fall under that category, it was rare for the old man to lose his iron grip on his temper, no matter how Zuko acted. But in his experience with teachers, it was always better to hide possible faults rather than risk the punishments he didn’t always understand.

He’s just reached the top of the stairs of the main courtyard in the complex, mind solely focused on any lie he can tell that might sound convincing, when from the center of the courtyard he hears a voice squeak out-

“It’s you!!”

Maybe walking faster and ignoring the shrill exclamation would help this loudmouth take a hint.

“He- hey! Wait up!” Ryu panted as he tried matching Zuko’s long strides. “Where are you going? Can I come?”

Zuko whipped his head around and forcefully stated, he did not shout, “I don’t know you, leave me alone.” And accidentally made eye contact with a familiar-looking black-haired girl right behind Ryu.

“Oh,” she said. “You’re... the new boy from the tea shop! Ryu, you know him?”

Right, she was the girl he’d kept from falling this afternoon and also one of the teenagers that tipped him despite his terrible service. This was unbelievable, did everybody in the Lower Ring know each other?

“Yeah! This is the guy I told you about! Y’know,” Ryu glanced around hastily and went on in a stage whisper that steadily rose in volume. “The dude that was like- bam! A-and POW! And crushed all those guys!” Every word was accompanied by furious hand chopping.

“Hey! We had a deal, you weren’t supposed to tell anyone about me!”

“Nuh-uh, you said not to tell the guards anything about you, I didn’t tell them diddly-squat.” Ryu crossed his arms, face smug. “And I figured out you weren’t a spirit, spirits can’t look like humans, that was a dumb lie.”

“Well, you believed that dumb lie,” Zuko shot back before biting his tongue. He wasn’t going to fight with a child, this was absurd.

“Thank you, for saving my brother.” The girl’s sincere tone was disarming. “If taking credit for his rescue isn’t something you want, that’s okay. We won’t tell anyone.” She punctuated that sentence by tugging on her brother’s ear and holding on as he tried to pry her off. “You already know this nitwit is Ryu, and my name’s Jin. What’s yours?”

Telling them would be a bad idea, even if it is a fake name, they might get ideas like he wanted to be friends or was planning on sticking around. He watched their silent squabble, Jin smiling benignly, grip on Ryu’s ear unshakable as he struggled in vain for freedom, and ached with the knowledge he would never have that easy rivalry ever again. Both because of how poisonous his relationship with his sister has become, and the bridges that he could never cross again. Not exactly burned bridges, but old and rotted ones, decayed from heavy storms and neglect, ready to dump him into a watery grave should he try reaching out.

“...Lee.” The lie comes out more of a croak than a word, he clears his throat. “My name’s Lee.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Lee,” Jin says and frees her brother from his torture. “We were just walking home, mom wants us to travel together now.” She ignored Ryu’s muttering about being fine without a ‘babysitter.’ “Is this where your family lives?”

“We just moved here.”

“Really? We did too, the beginning of this year.” She tilted her head, smile brightening. “We’re neighbors! It’s just the three of us, me, Ryu and mom.” She pointed back at one of the first-floor apartments. “So you live with your dad? He’s the teamaker, right? He’s really good at it, that special jasmine blend is great!”

“Not my… father, my uncle, and he’s been making tea for a long time. Sometimes I think that’s all he does.”

“Hey,” Ryu’s voice piped up, and he pointed up at one of the balconies. “Why are so many people on the third floor?”

Zuko’s head whipped up so fast something in his neck popped, there were a lot of people on that balcony, right near their door. His heart rate started spiking, was Uncle back yet? Did something happen when Zuko left him unsupervised and unprotected?

Flipping up the railings would be a bad idea with so many witnesses around, so he had to settle for sprinting up the stairs three at a time.

The five or six people were not loitering in and around their apartment but the one next to it. One of the women hurried past him and over to the siblings just reaching the top of the stairs.

“Jin, Ryu! Where were you I was so worried! Never mind it doesn’t matter we’re going home and staying safe, come on.” She tugged them toward the stairs with her despite their protesting.

Ryu got out a muffled, “Bye Lee!” And they were gone.

An old man leaning on the railing waved at Zuko, shooing him to his and Uncle’s apartment next door. “Go home to your father, boy. Families need to stick together during times like these.”

Without bothering to correct the senile geezer, Zuko tore open the door and the anxiety building in his chest immediately loosened its death grip on his lungs when he found Uncle standing at the stove, the scent of chamomile in the air.

He was fine, he was safe, but something was still wrong. “What’s going on?”

“I covered for you with Pao after you left this afternoon.” Uncle kept watching the steam rising out of the kettle from the fragrant tea, his tone held the false cheer he used to use whenever he tried to twist terrible news for Zuko’s benefit, but the half of his face in view was expressionless. “Such behavior makes for bad habits, Nephew, you should always try to honor your commitments.”

“I had to check something important.” Uncle was pouring a single cup of tea and still didn’t look up as Zuko spoke. “Why are there so many people outside?”

Uncle finally focused on Zuko, face grave.

There was an ugly swooping sensation in Zuko’s stomach, worsened by his uncle’s subdued tone as he continued.

“There was an unfortunate incident this afternoon. Miss Ila put little Tae-Soo down for a nap and went just next door to visit a friend. When she heard a strange noise and returned, she found a man escaping through the window with her daughter. Nobody has seen anything since.”

Chapter Text

He needs to leave. Time is running out and he doesn’t know what disaster is coming but it’ll be bad and he needs to go. But Uncle won’t stop staring at him with a cautious expression that Zuko doesn’t want to try to understand.

“And what are you intending to do about this?” Uncle asks, tone maddeningly neutral.

“What are you talking about, what could I do to help them? Why would I help them?” Why does Uncle always have to figure everything out.

"You are not one to do things in halves. I know you, Nephew, I know you would never sit still when people are suffering. It is not in your nature.” He gestured to the floorboards under the futon. “Especially when you have the means to end their pain."

He had to try one more time. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Zuko said, looking away from Uncle’s unwavering amber eyes.

A sigh. “If I were not here with you right now, what would you be doing?”

When he squeezed his eyes shut and made no response, Uncle continued prodding. “You were going to go search for the little girl; did you have a plan?” His tone was cutting. “Did you think this through?”

“Yes. No! I don’t know, I wasn’t thinking!” He scrubbed through the short bristles of his hair viciously. They weren’t here to help anybody, but Uncle never seemed to understand that.

“The actions we take without thought are the most honest of them all. But those actions are not enough without direction.” Uncle moved his finger to his own forehead and then chest. “You must use your brain to follow whatever it is your heart is telling you.”

Follow his heart? How could he rely on his heart, his feelings, when they’re always so wrong. When they contradicted the facts, and the honorable example Father set. When acting on his feelings results time and time again in sweeping dread in his stomach at the sight of Father’s disappointment, at his disgust, at the twist of Azula’s smile when she whispers, ‘I learned the lesson the first time, you should give it a try, dumb-dumb.’

It always took multiple reminders for things to stick. He didn’t learn like Azula did, with no need for further corrections. He’d continually talk too much at dinner, he’d practice his forms until he collapsed but still make errors. The punishments were never enough to change his many flaws, and he repeats mistakes and weaknesses over and over.

He can’t help the people here. They aren’t his responsibility and if they knew who, what, he was, he and Uncle would be incarcerated, executed, or worse. Any assistance Prince Zuko offered would be shunned and spurned, a young boy in a farming village taught him that.

But that’s his whole problem, he never learns the lesson.

“...She’s just a child. Someone has to help.” Zuko said after a long pause, staring at his feet, lips downturned, already regretting his feelings, decision, and the fact that he revealed them to Uncle.

He could feel the force of the considerable look Uncle leveled him with and struggled not to raise his head so he wouldn’t have to meet those hard eyes. Eventually, cloth shifted, and a weight lifted from his shoulders as Uncle turned back toward the stove.

“I’m going to take this fresh chamomile next door, it should help calm the mind and body even if the soul will remain distraught until her child’s safe return.” Uncle said as, on a tray, he gathered the teapot and the two cups they had off of the shelf. “I imagine I won’t be back for some time, but I’m sure you can find something to occupy yourself in the meantime.”

He placed his hand briefly on Zuko’s shoulder as he passed, “Don’t stay out too late, Nephew. There are dangerous criminals lurking about.”

After the door closed Zuko stared at it, a mixed sense of disbelief, relief, and confusion swirling in his chest. Every exchange that should by all accounts be the most difficult and treacherous with Uncle Iroh always turned out easier than he built it up to be.

Uncle wasn’t going to stop him. In fact, he’d given Zuko rather blatant permission, in an ‘I’ll pretend I don’t notice you doing this’ kind of way. He held onto that thought as he gathered his things. With his swords slung over his shoulder, he crept onto the roof and sat in the middle of it out of sight. He waits for a moment, still not entirely sure Uncle wouldn’t change his mind and try to stop him. Listening for any sign of him coming back to their apartment below.

He can hear voices in the apartment next to theirs and they bring him to his senses, he can’t waste any more time. He slides down a supporting post and flexing his fingers, digs them into a stony wall. Pulling himself up and crouching on top of the neighboring building, he removes the Blue Spirit mask from where it’s tied at his hip.

Mask in hand, he hesitates, puzzling over Uncle’s words about action without thought. He runs his fingers over the mock grin. Then nearly jumps out of his skin when from below he hears a stern whisper calling up-

“Lee!”

He ducks automatically. He almost ignores it before remembering, oh right, that’s his name now and looks over the edge. It’s that girl, Jin, peering up from the street and looking far too nonplussed at finding Zuko on top of a roof caressing an opera mask.

“What are you doing out here?” He whisper-shouts. “Go home!” Maybe one of these siblings had common sense and would listen to him one time.

“What are you doing out here?”

“I asked you first!”

“I found you first.” When Zuko glared and said nothing Jin pointed at the ground. “Will you come down here so I can stop feeling like I’m trying to coax a cat-owl out of a tree?”

Scowl in full force now, he jumps off the roof, twisting in the air and landing silently in front of her.

She takes a startled step back, “Woah, I guess Ryu wasn’t kidding about the jumps and flips.” She looks like she’s coming to a realization.

“You’re going to find Tae-Soo like you found Ryu.” She didn’t say it like a question. “I’m coming too.” She didn’t say that like a question either.

“What? You can’t, this isn’t a field trip.” He couldn’t catch kidnappers and watch out for a teenager with zero combat skill.

She was starting to look more delighted instead of chagrined like she was supposed to be, and kept on like he hadn’t even spoken. “You know where she is, don’t you? You can actually do this.”

“It’s not your business.”

She crossed her arms and said, “It kinda became my business when they hurt my brother. And Tae-Soo’s only two! She’s probably really scared all alone without her family.”

Irritated, he answered without thinking. “She’s probably not alone.”

Her brow furrowed and she took a step closer, “What do you mean?”

“At least five other kids are missing, I think they’re in the same place,” he looked her in the eye. “And I can handle it.” He glowered to try to scare her off, which was usually easy with the scar. “By myself.”

Her gaze narrowed, somehow unperturbed by his severe expression. “Sure, and how do you know all this?”

“One of the men that had Ryu was in the shop this afternoon and he left in a hurry. I followed him back to a shady building. Can this interrogation be over now?”

“You mean the guy that almost knocked me over today is the nut-brain that kidnapped my brother?” Jin finally looked serious, but now Zuko felt guilty for bringing up Ryu and making her upset. And he was still just standing here wasting time when those people had kids, had Tae-Soo.

“Yes, and the sooner I leave the faster he can never take anybody again. Goodbye.”

“Wait!” Her hand latched onto the back of his shirt and pulled him down from where he’d started to climb the wall. “Where is it?”

“I don’t know, it’s one of those big industrial buildings.” He said, exasperated and resigned to more questions.

“Oh, the ones in the Chang-Go District?”

“...I guess?”

Jin stared at him incredulously for a moment. “You don’t know?”

That was the last straw on the back of his minimal patience and he threw his hands into the air. “Yes, exactly! I don’t know! I just moved here! There are no signs anywhere in this hell city! I don’t know how you people find anything!”

“Well, that’s probably where it is, there’s only one depot in this part of the Lower Ring. I know a shortcut, c’mon.” And without waiting for an answer she grabs his wrist and tugs him through an alley, presumably towards the Chang-Go District.

Zuko decides to pretend he still has some control over this whole interaction and wrests his arm out of her grip, trotting to keep up. “Alright fine, you can come with me. But you’re not coming inside, you’re waiting outside where it’s safe.”

“Sure thing.” She says distractedly, navigating them around tight corners and through enough back streets to make his head spin.

It didn’t take them long to reach the street the place was on, he can grudgingly admit her shortcut was effective, if dizzying. He takes the lead as they walk among the dark and vacant buildings, all quiet and still without the workers from the day. Many of them were obviously in use, but there were ones that stood abandoned, in various states of deterioration. Zuko pointed out the worst one.

“That one? You’re sure?” Jin said with a dubious look on her face, obviously sizing up the dilapidated walls and half caved-in roof.

“Yes, I’m sure,” He hissed. “And keep your voice down, we don’t know if they have a watch.” He slipped on the mask then put his hand out. “Stay put.”

“You look ridiculous.” Was the harshly whispered reply.

He tuned her out as he dashed to the wooden wall, quickly sized up the available handholds and braced to jump. The wooden slats were vertical rather than horizontal but it was still climbable if you were practiced enough. And he was very practiced at this, he thought to himself as he made it to the top and tested the tiles of the roof to ensure it was sturdy before swinging up.

Peering over the broken edge and into the warehouse, he did an efficient survey. The broken pieces of the roof were laying on the ground, in all likelihood, where they had originally fallen. There were scattered crates and various tools lying around as if they were forgotten. And in the very center of the open space, a bottomless crater stood out as a black abyss against the hardpacked dirt floor.

The building was unoccupied: either they weren’t here, or were underground.

There was the crunch of gravel at the base of the wall outside and Jin’s voice, softened to a whisper, called up, “See anything?”

Zuko leaned over the lip of the roof. “You’re not very good at following instructions.”

“I’ll take that as a ‘no.’ Which is great! If it’s empty you can jump in then unlock the door for me, easy-peasy.” She grinned up at him, unrepentant.

He didn’t grace that with an answer and dropped to a stack of crates below.

This close to the crater, he could just make out some far-off sounds echoing up from within. A distant rumbling; almost rhythmic in nature. He gingerly leaned over the edge for a closer look.

Peering into the depths, he was taken aback. It was about as wide as he was tall and really deep, free-climbing it could work but if there were kids that needed to be carried up… he could do it but it might take time. He could do anything he had to, he always had.

A series of confident knocks sounded from the door behind him.

Scowling, he stalks over and asses the locks. No less than seven different mechanisms were keeping the door firmly sealed. Or at least keeping one side of it sealed. Using his Dao he sliced through the hinges on the opposite side of the door, and roughly yanked it open, causing the hardware from them to bounce across the ground.

Jin smiled brightly up at him from outside until, suppressing a sigh, he stepped aside to let her in.

“Thanks! See? I knew it’d be easy for you.” She zeroed in on the pit and walked over to the edge, crouching down and tilting her head at the faint sounds emanating from it. Her eyebrows rose higher as her eyes dropped lower, staring into the darkness; and she sounded apprehensive when she asked, “How were you planning to get them out of there?”

“I didn’t know they were gonna be underground, but I can probably carry them up.”

She gestured to some of the tools and bits of construction materials piled around them. “Can you drive a stake in the ground? If that rope is still strong we could use it to climb down.”

He blinked and looked at the old equipment, the rope felt solid and held well when he gave it a cursory tug. “Oh, yeah this could work.”

“Boy, it’s a good thing I came along, huh?”

“...I would’ve thought of something.” He said crossly, thinking of all the improvisation he’d done while on the run or when rescuing wayward avatars.

“Sure thing, Smiley.” She patted his shoulder.

His brain stuttered to a halt. “What?”

Jin tapped his wooden forehead and said, “Smiley. If you’re willingly walking around in this thing, I’m guessing you don’t want me to use your name.” Her face was sly as she added, “And with such an accurate imitation of your usual expression, what else would I call you?”

“Wha- no, this is the Blue Spirit. It’s in all the traditional plays.” He futilely pointed to his face, how could she not recognize it? The Earth Kingdom had no taste for the classics. And, “Smiley?”

Zuko was pretty sure the absence of marks on the earthen walls he was climbing down meant it had been made with bending instead of digging; that was probably how they got in and out of this pit. Earthbending had the tendency to leave planer edges, a pass of a hand smoothing away blemishes like an ocean polishing pebbles.

Of course, stone was stone, and it did have the inclination to erode.

He winced every time the shuffle of his feet dislodged a loose rock and sent it skipping down the wall into the dark cave below. He’d discovered going fast caused more gravel to loosen, so better to go at a caterpillar-snail’s pace than alert anyone below of his presence by causing an avalanche. He was almost there now, but the light was getting brighter instead of darker.

Jin was watching him from the top, luckily far up enough that talking was impossible without shouting. He did not want to risk her attempting to talk her way into following him again. If she was smart she’d heed his warning of how these crooks weren’t afraid to hurt kids.

Tightening his grip on the rope, he tilted his body upside-down. Wrapping an ankle around the rope to steady himself he peered past the edge of the bottom to get a good look.

It was definitely brighter than a cave should be, a soft green glow covered everything.

Luminescent crystals protruded from portions of the walls and ceiling of the cavern, casting an eerie glint over every surface. Some of the bunches of crystals had ragged edges as if parts had been broken off. The passage was narrow here, where Zuko was, but widened father in. A familiar rhythmic hammering sounded from deeper down the tunnel.

Reassured it was all clear in this part at least, he dropped silently to the floor.

He crept along the wall, trailing his fingers across the stone and nimbly avoiding the loose rocks scattered along the ground. The closer he got to the sounds, the surer he was that it was earthbending.

The crystals were denser the farther he got from the passage to the surface. The gleam emanating from them brightened the space and made the existing shadows deeper. It wasn’t comparable to daylight, but it lit up the dark better than a flame could. And it provided him with ample visibility to see the whole operation in front of him.

There they were, a whole bunch of kids spread around the widened tunnel. And standing in the middle of the area was the other man from the tea shop, keeping a stern eye on the proceedings.

Zuko counted nine of them, four more than were known to be missing, earthbending the glowing crystals out of the stone. They worked slowly, almost carefully, inching the luminescent rock out with dragging movements. He inched forward and darted behind an outcrop of rock.

He squinted through the mask and drew purposefully even breaths, there was no sign of Tae-Soo anywhere.

A heavy thunk echoed as a thin boy removed a large cluster of the crystals that slid out from the wall and hit the ground. The impact stirring up dust but the crystals remained intact.

Now closer, it was easier to tell; the kids weren’t slow to be cautious, they were exhausted. Did they even get breaks? Had they been at this all day? He clenched his fists around the coil of rope he’d brought, it was just the one guy there, he could take him easy.

He didn’t even need his swords for this. He sprang over the rock, saw the man’s eyes widen, and kicked him across the face, bringing him to the ground. He’d wrapped the rope around the man’s wrists once when a hand grabbed the back of his shirt and threw him off and away.

The impact rattled his head and he rolled to a crouch, whipping around to see who threw him.

“Get up Puo, we got company.” The tall man, the one there the night of Ryu’s kidnapping, said, not looking back at the man, Puo, on the ground behind him.

“Who the hell do you think you are!” Puo stumbled to his feet, a thunderous expression on his face as he untangled the rope from his hands, drawing a sword from his belt and snarling, “You little demon-spawn, I’m gonna make you regret that.”

Zuko rose to his feet and readied his swords. Deepening his voice as much as he can to imitate a gravelly tone, in part to scare them and in part to disguise his voice, he declares, “You can try.”

That’s all the invitation they need. The tall man snags a hammer from a pile of tools and charges, heavy metal barreling toward Zuko’s head. He turns his sidestep into a counterattack, aiming the hilt of a sword to jab at the man’s lower back. When he grunts and drops to one knee, Zuko jumps over a fast kick from Puo. They face each other, swords against sword.

Zuko finds himself absurdly grateful that neither man seems to be an earthbender. That would complicate things and slow him down. And he’s going to end this. Fast.

They trade blows. The man is quick, and bellows with each aggressive lunge. Zuko blocks a few solid hits that vibrate down the Dao and through his arms before he manages to break through and throw him to the ground.

The tall man is up again and Zuko flaunts his swords, dancing away from them both. Blood singing from the thrill of it. He raises them in a taunting salute, daring either to come closer.

Ripcord-thick arms wrap around him from behind, pinning his arms to his torso, and lift him off the ground. He’s squeezed so hard his ribs creak and the glow in the cave turns into a soft blur. Hazily he feels the solid weight of his Dao slip from his fingers as the crushing hold turns every attempt at inhalation into needles and pain.

He’s released and it feels like he breathes in the whole room, before his breath is cut off as he coughs harshly. A meaty hand holds his forearms together and he struggles in vain against the strength of them. Stone cuffs are earthbent into place on his wrists behind his back. And it’s only now that he’s been forced to stop, his vision clearing from the dark spots, that he sees what he should’ve prioritized from the start.

All the kids are hiding in a corner of the cavern, covering their ears or their faces or staring in fear. At him.

He rushed in without thinking for the hundredth time. Like the words Uncle said earlier meant nothing; like he’d make the same mistake over and over despite knowing the consequences. Like he doesn’t ever learn his lesson. But he’s not the only one that might suffer from it this time. And that hurts more than his ribs do right now.

“As frustrating as you are, I have to admire your tenacity kid.” The large mustached man with the broken nose circles around Zuko. “You are the one that nabbed the kid from me last night, aren’t you?”

He bites back a million curses and wheezes, desperately trying to control his gasping despite the rage and pain breaking his breathing rhythm. He has to fix this!

“Yeah, I thought so.” Despite the flippant way the words are spoken, the man’s expression is like a glacier. “Anyway, you done, kid? Because I have to cut this short, you’ve wasted enough of my time.” And he reaches for the mask.

He can’t fail now; if they recognize him they could get to Uncle!

“If you can bend, why don’t you get the crystals yourself instead of forcing children to do it?” Zuko practically spits at the man, anything to try to stall him as he works on escape. His wrists twist uselessly at the rock encasing them, heedless of scraped skin as he continues fighting against the sharp stone.

“We don’t have to listen to this, Lu-Ran! Come on, take care of him already!” Puo steps forward, holding Zuko’s Dao only to be stopped by Lu-Ran’s hand, silencing him.

“I’ll decide what we do, and when we do it. Clear?” Lu-Ran never moves his eyes from Zuko, but Puo must know the threat lurking in them and shuts up.

“It’s more lucrative to use my time otherwise, besides, it’s not hard to harvest these valuable rocks, and earthbending kids are easy pickings in this city.” He gestures back at the frightened children, expression pleased as his gaze lingers on the nervous faces, “You think anybody in all of Ba Sing Se cares about a couple of refugee kids? We nabbed them off the street, it was easy, no fuss. Nobody that cared would let that happen.”

He casually flicks some dirt off of Zuko’s shoulder and rocks back on his heels before continuing. “It’s so easy, in fact, that I’ve already invested in my latest business plan. If you take them young enough, the kids don’t remember their homes and it’s easier to sell them to Upper Ring families that want to adopt a ‘poor unwanted child.’ It gives them a real grandiose sense of being a hero.”

“And everybody wants to be a hero,” He leans in closer, hot breath on Zuko’s mask. “But you already know that, don’t you, kid?”

Zuko’s chest was stuttering now, control was slipping through his fingers and being on his knees with this large man looming over him was not helping. He’s sweating but cold all over and even with the mask he feels painfully exposed, like a frayed nerve held to a flame. He keeps his eyes over Lu-Ran’s shoulder, watching the small cowering forms that remind him freezing up is not an option that he- that they can afford.

And those fearful little faces throw him a lifeline, give him a grip on reality; because the sickening chill in his gut turns molten when he focuses on what this man said about them.

“You don’t get to look at them and assign them a value, decide if they’re worth caring for or not. They’re better without you, but you?” Zuko’s lip curls under the mask and his fake growl is almost shaky but he manages. “It makes you feel powerful, doesn’t it? The way they look at you as you hold their lives in your hands. You’re nothing without them.”

As Lu-Ran’s face twists in anger, the cuffs around Zuko’s wrists crumble to dust. The mask on his face provides the cover to openly stare at his rescuer unnoticed by her or the man in front of him.

There’s a filthy rabbiroo clip in her unkempt black hair, and her dirty face is frightened, but her grey eyes hold solid steel in them from where she’s huddled in the corner with the other kids. Her hands quickly lower but that gaze doesn’t.

Lu-Ran grabs the front of Zuko’s shirt but only to bring him closer to better snarl in his face, he has no idea Zuko’s free.

He uses the momentum to slam his head into the man’s already broken nose and springboard over his howling form to lash out at the man holding his Dao. The element of surprise helps him snatch his swords in two quick moves before he retreats, keeping his distance to check on the kids.

They’re scattering, running down the hallway back to the entrance. He jumps and neatly rolls to the mouth of the tunnel they just went through. He faces the two men still on their feet, swords crossed in front of him in a silent but obvious ‘to get to them you’ll have to go through me’ stance.

And from the dark looks on their faces, these two are going to give it their best shot.

They rush him together this time. One wielding a sword, the other brandishing a hammer. Zuko blocks and parries and slashes, never giving ground. Stance rooted.

He catches a sword with one Dao, and a hammer with the other. Locked in a fierce contest of strength, his arms shake. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he calls on his inner fire, ignites his chi to enhance his movements just as Uncle taught him. And shoves.

They both go flying back and land in the crates of glowing crystals. The wooden boxes shatter, causing light to bounce along every surface in the cave as the crystals dance across the ground. A groan and then both are silent.

The earth moves behind him and he dives to the side, narrowly avoiding the boulder sent his way. No longer writhing on the ground clutching his twice-broken nose, Lu-Ran launches another volley of rocks at Zuko. The blood dribbling down his face accentuates his murderous expression.

Zuko dodges the first two and knocks the third back with his Dao. He slides into a steady rhythm, in his breathing and actions. He gets closer with every block. The barrage is slowing now, getting sloppy, and he finally cuts through when Lu-ran gives up on his flagging earthbending and throws a wobbly punch.

He turns and uses the man’s weight against him, swinging him to the ground and pinning his arms behind him. Zuko plants a foot in the middle of the broad back and deepens his voice again to interrogate him, “Where is the little girl?”

The man just laughs.

“I won’t ask you again!” He actually might not, the forced growl was making his voice hoarse, and he needed to get these kids out of here. He’d search the whole tunnel system if he had to.

“That’s what you’re here for? Alright kid, how about we strike a deal.” His voice was extraordinarily nasally now, but also infuriatingly assured, somehow unfazed by Zuko’s heel digging between his shoulder blades. “Let me go and I’ll tell you where the baby is, and if you want her to still be breathing when you get her you better do it soon.” He grins with blood-stained teeth. “She’s toast if you don’t, you’ll never find her without my help.”

Righteous fury swelled in his chest and reduced his vision to this man’s haughty gaze. He seized Lu-Ran’s left wrist in an iron grip, braced his weight and pushed hearing bones grind and creak until the pressure gave and a sharp snap echoed through the cave along with a course scream.

“Strike a deal with me.” The growl wasn’t fake this time. “Tell me where she is and I won’t break your other arm.”

He’s tired, limping a bit, and his arms hurt from dragging the three unconscious grown men bound together behind him. But most of all, he’s furiously glad the kids weren’t there when he did that. But everything would be okay now, he just had to get all nine kids somewhere and make sure Lu-Ran was telling the truth.

When Azula interrogated people like that, they never lied to her. But she always had luck and her reputation on her side. Zuko never had those at home, let alone out here in the Earth Kingdom.

He leaves his bundle of scumbags tied up in the center of the tunnel for the City Guard to find and walks down the smaller, twisting passage he was told about. There are no glowing crystals in this section, but a lantern is hung on a hook in the wall about halfway through. He takes it with him and boosts the tiny flame with some careful breathing so it burns brighter.

As he enters the small room at the end of the tunnel, he hears it. Soft, snuffly breathing coming from a crate against the back wall. He looks over the side of it and sees Tae-Soo’s sleeping face, her little brows furrowed even in slumber. Her small fists are pressed against her tear-streaked cheeks and she’s curled up in a ball, shivering lightly.

She’s cold, that kills all his hesitation immediately. He puts the lantern down and lifts her into his arms with great caution, as if protecting the flame of a candle. He supports her head and holds his breath, hoping she stays asleep. Her head on his shoulder, he cradles her slight weight with his arm and spreads his other hand across her back, willing soft warmth to seep from his fingertips. Her shaking slows as she squishes her little face under the edge of the mask and into his neck, sighing.

Zuko stands still as a statue for a few moments, waiting to see if she stirs further. But she’s well and truly asleep now, so he heads in the direction of the entrance, keeping his gait even and balanced. Almost done, he just has to get the kids and go.

He rounds the last corner and finds them, most sitting on the ground, all of them looking lost.

Nobody seems badly hurt, but even the smallest cuts and bruises add fuel to the anger lingering in his chest. More than one looks seconds away from falling asleep, one of the older ones is holding a small sleeping boy who can’t be older than six. When he gets closer, moving slowly under the weight of all these cautious eyes, he sees the one holding the small boy is the girl that removed his cuffs. She seems to be the oldest, so he approaches and quietly asks her, “Is everybody here?”

She’s looking at Tae-Soo in his arms as she gives a jerky nod.

He crouches down next to the girl, keeping some distance between them, and what was her name? He remembers the steady calligraphy on a poster held in trembling hands.

“What you did was very brave, I didn’t know earthbending could be that subtle.” He keeps his voice soft, because of the snoozing children in both their arms and also out of respect for the fact these kids probably don’t want to hear raised voices any time soon.

She watches his every movement like a messenger hawk, but she doesn’t look scared anymore as she ignores his statement and says, “Thank you, for finding us. How did you know?”

Her big gray eyes bore through him, the wary scrutiny after a shared heist feeling eerily familiar.

“Your mother misses you, you deserve to go home to her, Nima.” He is so very thankful for the mask on his face as he thinks of mothers and children and the irreparable wound of loss.

He turns away from her open-mouth shock and starts walking down the path in the direction of the entrance, not looking back at the kids. The shuffle of footsteps follow. It’s a short walk and as soon as he’s in view of the opening Jin starts waving frantically from above. He resentfully gives her a thumbs up. She disappears and, judging by the scuffing of feet echoing down, does a little jig.

A dirty little hand tugs on his shirt and holds on as a kid asks, “Who’s that?”

“She’s...a friend. And annoyingly helpful.”

The boy stares up at Jin’s wide grin looking over the ledge and tentatively smiles back.

“They made a staircase to get us down,” Nima says at his elbow, and holds the sleeping child in her arms out for one of the older boys. “The impressions of it are still in the earth, I’ll remake them.”

Her bending is sure, and she’s helped by a few of the others, but the exhaustion is clearly getting to them as they stumble their way up the steps. At the top they all turn to Zuko, so he looks over everyone and says, “You need to go to a City Guard station so they can get you all home.”

A few of the kids look away from him with downturned or frustrated faces so Jin speaks up from behind him, “They’ll want to hear each of your stories, and they’ll be able to get you food and a bed to sleep in.”

“Right,” He looks at Nima, “Can you take them there? There’s one… uh-”

“Go down that street,” Jin points from over Zuko’s shoulder out the door at a ruined street sign, “Then make a left onto the street with the market stall that advertises ‘regular bears.’ It’s on that road, it’s got a really big sign, you can’t miss it!” She slings an arm around his neck, casual while still careful of Tae-Soo’s head. “Sorry about that, the Oh Mighty Blue Spirit is new around here.”

He’s accepted from those terrible directions that the two of them are gonna have to walk them to the station but Nima nods as if the instructions are normal and with one last glance at Zuko, starts herding everybody else down the street. It must be a Ba Sing Se thing.

One of the kids waves, “Bye! Thank you Mr. Oh Mighty Blue Spirt Sir!”

He can feel Jin’s smug grin and he refuses to give her the satisfaction by turning around and looking at it. His eyes stay on the kids until they turn the corner and disappear from view.

“Hey, they’ll be okay now, you rescued them.” Jin steps forward and looks up at him, cheer in her eyes. “They’re going back to their families again.”

“But do they all have a family to go back to?” Zuko asked the question that had been bothering him since those dirty faces looked away at the word ‘home.’

“Well not everyone in this world is a heartless monster, maybe they’ll be taken care of. Maybe they’ll find a home to belong.”

“Right.” He thought of empty corridors, the sweltering heat of a throne room, and the absence of any true warmth. “Let’s get Tae-Soo to her home.”

As they walk down the street Jin reaches up and brushes Tae-Soo’s hair off her face. “You know, I can carry her if you want.”

His hand that had been absently rubbing her back stills. “What? No.” He only just stops himself from moving away from Jin. “It’s fine. She might wake up with movement.”

Her smile is dancing in her eyes. “Sure, how silly of me to ask.”

It’s the very dead of night, at the point before the sky begins to brighten with a new day. They walk slowly to keep from waking Tae-Soo, but there’s nobody out to see them take Jin’s convoluted shortcuts so it doesn’t matter. The whole complex is quiet as they approach.

“Are you just gonna uh- knock on her door?” Jin yawns through the last part of her sentence.

“No. Go home, I’ve got it from here.”

“If you say so. At least I know mom’s still asleep, she’d have signal flares going if she knew I was gone.” Jin says ruefully, a crooked smile on her face. “I’ll see you around Le- oh! Excuse me, I meant Mr. Oh Mighty Blue Spirit Sir!” She whispers, giving a sloppy salute. He rolls his eyes as she tiptoes away up to the courtyard.

Scaling the wall isn’t as easy with only one free hand but he manages. It helps his nerves that Tae-Soo has an iron grip on his shirt even in her sleep. It does not help when he reaches her window and she won’t let go. He gives up for the moment and presses his ear to the closed shutter. Nothing is moving inside, so he risks opening the shutter a crack and peers in. Two forms sleep on the mats on the floor, it looks like one of the older women stayed here with Ila. He puts pressure on the hinges to curb any squeaking as he opens the shutter the rest of the way.

The empty basket from this morning’s market trip is sitting on the table in front of the window. Tae-Soo probably sleeps with her mom on the mats, but it’ll have to do for a temporary spot. Tae-Soo’s fingers are still tangled in his shirt as if fused with it and wrestling them free causes her to stir.

Her green eyes slide open and she looks up at him blearily, giving a soft coo and flexing her tiny digits. The small sounds turn into whimpers as he lowers her into the basket. When he closes the shutter her volume increases and he resists the urge to reach back in for her as he waits for any other sound from within the apartment.

He’s rewarded with a startled gasp. Ila is awake. Which means he’s finally finished for the night.

Uncle must’ve left the window open for him, he closes it behind himself and removes his mask, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

“Good evening, Nephew, did you have a productive night out?” Uncle is sitting in the lotus position on his futon, holding an empty teacup. There’s a single candle lit on the table next to him.

The apartment complex they’re staying in is made out of cheap materials, every expense was spared making it. The entire building is drafty, it leaks, and you can hear virtually everything through the walls. This means Ila’s joyful tears and exclamations of her daughter’s name are loud and clear to both of them, speaking for Zuko as to just how productive his evening was.

“We will always find our way back to the important people in our lives.” Uncle pats the spot next to him and Zuko sits heavily. “Destiny is peculiar like that, but sometimes it needs a little push.”

Uncle’s broad palm lands on Zuko’s shoulder. “You are quite the push, Nephew.” He chuckles and pats Zuko’s shoulder, “And after a hard night, and a long-awaited reunion, a man needs his rest.”

Long Feng shuffled through the reports from his subordinates, looking for a specific message his assistant had forewarned him of. It was near the bottom of the orderly pile, but in his eyes, held the highest importance.

Interesting. So the Avatar was making his way to Long Feng’s impenetrable city. If this informant’s word was accurate, the Avatar and his merry band of juvenile misfits might arrive within a few weeks, which was long enough for the appropriate groundwork to be laid, the correct measures to be taken. A special tour guide would have to be prepared for them.

His mental calculations were interrupted by one of his Dai Li, knocking and entering with a respectful bow.

“Sir, we have word on Lu-Ran’s gang in the Lower Ring and the earthbenders they were training.”

“Ah, splendid, so we have made contact and initiated the… negotiations?” His lips twitched upward, that was faster than anticipated, some promotions may be in order.

“No sir, all the earthbenders have been released. They’ve returned home, and the orphans have been placed in a citizen’s care. Most of the gang is in city guard custody.”

His smile fell.

To lose such a valuable future asset was a disappointment, children needed to be cared for and trained, but they were so much easier to mold than the older volunteer recruits. And with some earthbending under duress already learned, they would’ve been a worthwhile investment indeed.

Though his methods were… archaic, Lu-Ran had been laying the groundwork for malleable minds easily taught, which is the entire reason Long Feng had allowed the existence of his mining gang to continue under the occasional unseen watch. How disappointing.

“Our sources heard the earthbenders’ story, sir, they all say the same thing. They are convinced they were rescued by a spirit.”

A spirit? Children’s imaginations were so irrational. It had been better for everyone, especially himself, when Kuei outgrew that stage. Surely this was a person. No matter if ruining these carefully laid plans was on purpose or an accident, they must be dealt with. This ‘spirit’ had already proven to be a competent and bothersome complication.

As for their identity, spirits were nothing but a myth; humans, however, with weaknesses and agendas, could easily be controlled.

How peculiar though, with the Avatar’s impending arrival looming in the distance, the appearance of a supposed spirit felt almost poetic. He smoothed down the paper with the young Avatar’s naive face on it.

“Alert our informants, I want this… ‘spirit,’ brought to me. Alive.”

“Yes sir,” the agent bowed at the appropriate level and exited without another word.

Long Feng looked at the reports from his trusted Dai Li, examined the last rambling note from His Royal Majesty, and reread the parchment heralding the visit of a diety, supposedly lost for a century. And now, yet another player had entered the ring, a wildcard in this round of wits. This particular game was going to be fascinating.

Chapter Text

The earthy scent of freshly brewed tea permeated the air, filling the shop and drawing in people passing by the door. Uncle insisted the windows and door be opened wide every morning, to let the aroma entice those on their morning commute to stop by for a quick cup.

It had been the first suggestion Uncle made that hadn’t been resisted by Pao, the owner of the tea shop and their employer. He was a stubborn man, set in his ways, but easily coerced with earnings; and all Uncle’s changes brought them many more paying customers.

It would’ve been hard to argue with this one anyway. So many people exclaimed in delight at the fresh smell of good quality tea as soon as they walked through the door. Another of Uncle’s ‘small suggestions’ was a new provider for the tea leaves they used. Apparently, he knew someone and could get them a better deal for higher quality tea leaves than what Pao had used. When the first shipment was delivered two days ago, Uncle and the old woman delivering the tea had talked forever.

(“So this is your nephew! What a sweet young man.” She’d said, smiling, as Zuko had stayed carefully out of cheek-pinching range- she had that kind of look about her.

Uncle and the woman had debated the merits of certain floral teas and the amount of time they needed to steep. They’d talked like they’d been friends all their lives. That was impossible though, Uncle was Fire Nation royalty, he couldn’t know Earth Kingdom peasants.

Why all old geezers always chatted like they knew each other, Zuko would never understand.)

Today’s morning brew was eucalyptus. The slightly minty smell wafted through the air and instilled a sense of calm in the sleepy morning atmosphere of the shop.

But, the number of times Uncle had brought out this particular tea in another pointless effort to ‘ease your temper, Prince Zuko,’ means the smell just makes Zuko’s stress headache worse from the association.

Over the last few days since Zuko returned with Tae Soo, the shop has seemed busier, almost livelier. Maybe the Lower Ring feels safer, or more likely, Uncle’s customer service savvy has brought more business. So it’s been busy, except of course for right now when he could use the distraction for Uncle. He’s trying to show Zuko the right way to brew a pot of eucalyptus and keep it warm without scalding the leaves. But Zuko hasn’t gotten it right the last four times he tried so why should the fifth be any different.

Zuko tuned out his uncle’s drivel on leaf textures and their effect on the brewing process and scanned the room a little desperately for any new customer in need of assistance. The early morning rush finished almost an hour ago and he’d run out of excuses to escape this lesson. He’d claim the shop needed cleaning but Uncle caught onto what he was doing after the third time he wiped down the empty tables and the front counter a little too long.

As he searches the room the bulletin board on the wall draws his eye; specifically the blank spaces where ‘missing’ posters had been. When he took them down that morning the sound the paper made as it crumpled in his hands had been satisfying in a vindictive way. Using them as kindling to start the morning’s first pot of tea had felt even better.

It would’ve felt best to burn them himself, but he’d take what he could get.

A shadow passes through the door, heralding another customer. Zuko’s quick to latch onto the reprieve and interrupts Uncle mid-word. “Sorry, I have to go take their order.”

But his mistake is he didn’t look at who walked in, so when he starts to come around the counter Jin has already noticed him first and gives a cheery wave.

“On second thought, the oolong supply is dwindling, I’ll check the back for more.” He says, attempting to strong-arm past Uncle, who puts a hand on his shoulder and turns him back around.

“Nephew, this girl is waving at you! I’ve seen her here quite often, do you know her?” Uncle sounds positively giddy at the thought, holding Zuko hostage with his iron grip and a cheesy grin on his face as she reaches the counter.

“No,” Zuko says at the same time Jin says, “Yep!”

If the floor would open up and swallow him whole that’d be just great.

“Oho!” Uncle says gleefully, “Why don’t I see to our oolong situation and leave you alone with this fine young lady you may or may not know, hm?” Uncle disappears into the back room but not before giving Jin what he probably thinks is a roguish wink.

Jin laughs, either at Uncle’s wink or Zuko’s expression and says, “So, I’m a little confused, have we met or not? Because I came here to ask a certain somebody if he wanted to hang out.”

Zuko grabs the rag from his apron’s pocket and pretends to be engrossed in scrubbing the already sparkling counter. “I’m working right now, can’t talk, we’ve been busy lately.”

Jin’s dubiously eying the mostly empty shop when Uncle bursts back in from the storeroom. “Actually, Nephew you deserve a break, you worked so hard this morning,” he tugs the rag out of the death grip Zuko had it in. “Go spend time with your friend! The shop will not fall apart in your absence.”

“She’s not my-!”

But Uncle is shooing him out from behind the counter, untying Zuko’s apron and pulling it over his head. “The spring of youth only lasts so long, Nephew, enjoy where the breeze of life takes you!”

Jin is grinning as she links their arms together, “Thanks, I’ll be sure to bring him back later!”

Zuko finds himself dragged out the door and through the streets of the Lower Ring. An odd facsimile of the night she’d led him through a shortcut to rescue some missing kids.

She’s chattering in his ear about how difficult it’s been to convince her mother to let her leave the house, but she slows down as they reach the street vendors. Her head tilting to follow the greasy smell of fried food. “Wow I’m starving, I forgot to have breakfast this morning. Are you hungry?”

“I guess.” Uncle had made them jook for breakfast a few hours ago, but he’d yet to find a point in his life when he wasn’t hungry.

“Oh!” Jin pointed at one of the stalls, “This place has the best chicken-pig kebabs; you have to try them, I’ll get us some.” There’s no line so she rattles off two orders of kebabs and they wait for the man to get their food.

Contrary to what Uncle might think, Zuko does have some manners and he isn’t about to let someone else pay for his meal if he can help it. He reaches into the small pouch hidden in his belt, feeling for the right amount of coins.

Jin slams some copper pieces onto the counter before Zuko could fish out his money, “Thank you! C’mon, let’s go sit.” She walks away with the food without checking to see if he’s following her.

It’s tempting to just turn around and leave, but she does have already-paid-for food. And by now, Zuko’s wise enough to know he’s not going to win this particular battle of wills with his stomach.

The bench she’s found is in the shade of a building awning, free of people, and out of the way of the heavy traffic of the late morning crowd. He hesitates before sitting on the edge as far from her as he can be, on her right. She’s in his blind spot this way but it makes more sense to keep his eye on the people walking in the street rather than on Jin. She offers the second stick to him, smiling.

It feels like charity. “You didn’t have to pay for my food.”

“Oh come on, think of it as a ‘Welcome to Ba Sing Se’ gift, or a final thank you for saving my brother. And I did take you away from your job this morning.”

Street vendor food in a seedy place like the Lower Ring always makes Zuko wary, but he takes the kebab when she waves it impatiently at him. It smells very good up close, and seeing her enthusiastically bite into hers he takes a tentative nibble… okay yeah, that’s tasty.

Jin licks her fingers when she finishes her food, so Zuko gives in to temptation and does the same. It would make sense that none of these peasants have any manners, and he is trying to blend in after all.

She points at him with her barren kebab stick, “You know, you have a lot of explaining to do.”

As if the ground cracked beneath his feet, the abrupt change in the mood has him once again unsure of his footing in her presence. If she knows they’re Fire Nation he needs as good a head start as he can get to grab Uncle and escape. But what gave him away? He’ll have to get answers from her first… but he really doesn’t want to. And there are too many witnesses around, she could shout his secret before he could restrain her.

She leans over to wave her stick around in his face, “Don’t give me that cagey look, I know you know what I mean.”

He shifts his weight so it’ll be easier to run and to avoid the sharp object she’s pointing at him and bites out, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She sighs like he’s being purposely uncooperative and leans out of his personal space, “The mask? The heroics? The incapacitating a bunch of guys way bigger than you without using any bending? The avoiding me. Any of this ringing a bell?”

Oh. She’s just talking about the other night.

He gingerly rests his weight back on the bench, muscles tensed in the likely event that this still blows up in his face.

“I didn’t think anything needed to be explained.”

She stops picking her teeth with the stick and looks at him funny, “Uh, yeah it does.”

“Are you saying I shouldn’t have done anything?”

“Of course not! I just want to know how you did it- how you knew you could do it.” Jin waves her arms around. “People don’t do that kind of stuff here.”

She’s obviously waiting for him to say something but what could he possibly tell her? ‘My upbringing as the Prince of the Fire Nation, Heir to the Throne, involved an intense regiment of both military strategy and disciplined bending forms.’ Or ‘when I was thirteen and being a giant coward who was too scared to practice firebending my uncle taught me multiple styles of martial arts and retrained my situational awareness to compensate for my newly acquired mostly blind eye.’ Or maybe ‘as we got older my little sister took Hide and Explode to vicious new extremes which made day to day life interesting, to say the least.’

“...It’s just something I can do.”

Jin is not satisfied. “What kind of answer is that? I didn’t get to see what went down. Which sucks, by the way, I want to go with you next time, but those kids were looking at you like you hung the moon. And then after I wait a respectful amount of time for you to come find me, you don’t. So I have to hunt you down-”

“Next time? No, there’s no next time for you. You’re not coming with me again.” Zuko’s paper-thin patience, already frayed from the scare she gave him, is unraveling. She’s being difficult again, with all these questions and assumptions and nosiness.

She latches onto that as if he’d just let something important slip, “So you are going out again, who supplies you with your intel? Was there a robbery? Another kidnapping? Did someone get murdered?” She leans closer with each exclamation.

“What?” Zuko hurriedly looks around to make sure Jin’s yelling about murder hadn’t drawn any attention, “No, nobody ‘supplies me with intel.’”

“...No?” She looks disappointed. “Then how did you even know what was going on?”

“I just- sometimes I go out at night for a… walk and I... see things.”

“...um. Okay. That was super vague and mysterious and I don’t even get why I’m bothering asking when you won’t give me real answers but seriously. What even was your life like before you came to Ba Sing Se?”

“We… traveled a lot.” He fights to keep it from sounding like a question.

“You traveled a lot,” She repeats, deadpan. “Is Mushi even your uncle? Did he find you in a colony of feral platypus bears?”

He shoots a glare at her, “That’s ridiculous.” And he’s trying very hard not to think about that time when he was fifteen and Uncle had to rescue him from an angry platypus bear. It had been one of a million leads on the Avatar that hadn’t panned out.

Jin crosses her arms primly, “I don’t think it is, you sure can act like one sometimes.”

“I do not.” Zuko sullenly says, mirroring her posture and crossing his arms, scowl deepening.

“Wait,” Jin’s eyebrows knit together and then go up as her mouth drops open, “Oh! Wait, were you one of those underground fighters?”

“No.” In their trek across the Earth Kingdom, he’d heard of secret fighting clubs, full of betting and prizes. But Uncle had too, and he’d casually asked Zuko not to partake in such things. It’d been hard to justify seeking it out after that.

“Don’t lie to me, I know they have those in some regions of the Earth Kingdom.” She slaps a hand over her face. “Ohhhh, the bad attitude, the fighting, the fancy moves... it all makes sense now, and it explains your spooky mask!”

“Even if those weren’t almost always for earthbenders, I’d still have to wear a mask. I’d be too easy to find if I didn’t.” If any merciful spirit is listening right now, he won’t have to explain to her in detail why he needs the mask.

Sometimes, rarely, Zuko liked the edge the scar gave him. It scared people. They stared, got distracted, and didn't know what to say. Now, watching Jin abashedly look away from his face, the numbness where the scar tissue creases his skin feels heavy and grotesque. He’s both relieved she understands and agitated by the whole situation. The internal conflict grates on his nerves.

It’s easier to watch the steady stream of people going by than her guilty face as he says, “There’s honor in protecting people that can’t stand up for themselves. If you need to know so badly why I helped those kids.”

He just has to keep thinking of them as kids and not ‘the enemy.’

“Lee, I didn’t mean...” She puts her hand on his shoulder, which since she’s in his blind spot he only knew was coming by the shift of cloth. He should have moved before she could touch him. But he didn’t. He lets the soft weight of her hand sit there for a moment until it feels like too much all of a sudden, and he stands up stiffly.

“It’s complicated. I have to go.” He takes a step away before pausing and without looking at Jin, says, “...see you later.”

The walk back to the tea shop is quiet.

Uncle doesn’t ask about his outing with Jin.

He’d been worried Uncle would be ready and waiting with pestering questions about Zuko’s new ‘friend.’ But Zuko is put back to work. And harassed into practicing more tea making. And smiled at sympathetically while he dealt with irate customers. But he is not prodded about Jin or the somber mood he was in when he returned.

When the sun went down they closed up the shop and had to wait as Pao meticulously counted out their earnings for the day. The walk to their apartment was spent in relative silence, except for Uncle’s mellow humming.

Ila and her husband were sitting in the courtyard with another of their neighbors Zuko recognized but had never talked to. Tae-Soo was sitting in her father's lap, blowing spit bubbles and pulling at his long braid. Uncle waved at them and gave Zuko a questioning glance, but Zuko had already pulled away. He goes up the steps and lets the sound of Uncle greeting the young family fade as he climbs.

As soon as the door shuts behind him, he does a thorough search of both the main room and its tiny adjacent bathroom. There are a few upsides to having such tiny quarters; for example, combing for signs of intruders is fast. Uncle is talking to people, so that means he’ll be back up anywhere from five minutes to five hours. Zuko might as well start dinner

Before his banishment, he’d never cooked anything in his life, and even on his ship, they’d had a galley and their own cook. But once he and Uncle had become fugitives of the Fire Nation, things had had to change. Uncle had cooked for them most of the days on the road that they couldn’t afford lodging, but he’d been insistent Zuko learn the basics. Zuko had whined and moaned during every lesson but was infinitely grateful when he’d set out on his own to have the rudimentary knowledge. He’d barely been able to get food as it was, his empty stomach wouldn’t have been able to handle wasting it by burning it beyond recognition or giving himself food poisoning.

The vegetables and rice are almost done heating up when Uncle’s familiar shuffle steps through the door. His little visit was much shorter than Zuko guessed it would be. His nose is in the air in an instant.

“Mmm, that smells wonderful, Nephew.” His smile is as genuine as it always is.

Uncle sits at the table as Zuko sprinkles a finishing touch of precious seasoning onto their dinner. On top of the fact that most Earth Kingdom food isn’t as spicy as Fire Nation cuisine, spices are expensive in the Lower Ring. Saved for the wealthy and elite. Which Zuko and Uncle are not.

As they eat, Uncle tells him about their neighbors and how they’re doing. Tae-Soo’s got a new tooth, and the new family two floors below them used to live in Omashu. All this pointless gossip Zuko couldn't care less about.

“Isn't it wonderful that Ji’s mother was able to move in with her family?” Uncle’s talking about these people like he cares about them.

“It’s great.”

Uncle has been watching him from the corner of his eye with every monotone reply. But this time he looks away as he says, “In the morning, I will be setting out not long after dawn. My offer still stands. Pao and the shop can survive without both of us tomorrow if you wish to join me.” Uncle sets his bowl down and folds his hands on the table. “You know you are more than welcome to accompany me, Nephew.”

“No.” Zuko cringes at how loudly that came out, “I mean, I couldn’t- it wouldn’t be- I’d-”

“It is alright, Zuko. I will not force you to come.” Uncle briefly puts his hand on Zuko’s arm before he gathers their empty bowls. “And I respected your refusal the first time, but you have seemed down since you talked to your friend this afternoon. I thought I’d see if you’d changed your mind.”

Zuko had actually forgotten what tomorrow was and the guilt sits heavy in his chest. He’s making Uncle worry about him on top of everything he must already be feeling. “I’m not down. It’s just…”

Uncle nods like that’s all he needs to hear to understand. “It can be difficult, relearning how to interact with your peers.”

“She’s not my peer, we are not the same.” He’s not going to sit here and listen to this speech again. He gets up and shakes out his futon so roughly it almost flies from his grip. Everyone in this city is a peasant, Zuko is royalty. Or at least he used to be.

He hears Uncle sigh, and then the sloshing water as he washes their dishes is the only sound in the room. Zuko lays down and stares at the ceiling long after Uncle blows out the candle and says goodnight.

Uncle deserves to have his day off, especially given the occasion. But, guiltily, Zuko still can’t help feeling abandoned. It’s almost like he’s running the entire damn tea shop by himself right now.

He’s survived most of the day. About a third of the tables are full. This wouldn’t be a problem except Zuko’s doing everything with no help since Pao insists he shouldn’t have to partake in the ‘menial labor.’ Because he’s the owner. When Uncle had found them work in less than a day, Zuko had assumed Uncle had ‘sweet-talked’ yet another old lady. But Uncle had somehow managed to find a business in need of them as soon as they could start. It was beginning to be obvious that Pao’s previous employees had all left out of frustration for the man's stuffy attitude and bad wages.

And really, Zuko’s fortunate, the shop is normally much more crowded at this time in the afternoon. It’s like people knew Uncle wasn’t going to be here and what that would mean for the quality of their tea.

Zuko brews it exactly the way Uncle does, and it tastes fine to Zuko but Uncle always says it lacks ‘passion and panache.’ They’ve only been here a few weeks and he’s already got all the patrons thinking the same way. But it’s the exact. Same. Tea. It’s beyond infuriating but Zuko will get it right even if it kills him. Firebender skin has a bit of resistance to heat, especially their hands. This is why Zuko only has a few blisters on his fingers instead of being riddled with scorch marks from mishandling boiling water and hot stoneware all day. He has to be improving, he’s never made this many pots of tea in his life.

Uncle always makes it look easy.

“Hi, Lee!”

Zuko almost earns another blister as he just barely keeps the teapot from spilling all over him. Ryu and Jin are standing at the counter, faces showing varying levels of enthusiasm. Ryu is rocking on his heels with a big grin on his face while Jin’s expression is a bit nervous. Zuko quashes the guilt over the fact that she must be apprehensive after his outburst yesterday.

“Stop shouting, you little twerp.” Jin gives Ryu’s hair a sharp tug and then Zuko a small smile. Her eyes drop to the teapot in his hands, “Oh. Is it… your tea today?”

If he grinds his teeth any harder he’s gonna crack one. “Yes. It is my tea today.”

A customer comes up to the counter to pay and deposit his empty cup before leaving. Zuko takes the money and dumps the cup into the washbasin, scrubbing it with vigor. “If you’re not getting anything, I have things to do.”

“We’ll have some tea,” Jin says hurriedly, “Is the green tea fresh?”

Zuko glances at them, she looks earnest even as Ryu pouts. So he sighs through his nose and pours two cups of green tea. He slides them over and then sets to scouring non-existent stains from the counter. Neither of them moves to sit at a table. Jin takes a small sip of her tea while Ryu moves his finger absently around the rim of his cup, shooting furtive glares at her.

“So, where’s your uncle today?” Jin peers over his shoulder as if Uncle could possibly hide behind him.

Zuko’s hand stills in wiping down the counter, “He… had someone to visit today.”

“Oh really? You guys haven’t even been in Ba Sing Se that long, your uncle sure makes friends fast!” She sounds fond. “It makes sense though, he’s such a nice man.”

He is. He can be too nice; his bleeding heart has gotten them into more sticky situations than Zuko wants to count. For whatever reason, Uncle cares about people. He took the whole day off to mourn Lu Ten, the person he cared about the most, on his birthday. That was so personal but he still invited Zuko. It would’ve been an intrusion if he’d gone with him today. Lu Ten and Uncle had been close, and very similar.

He remembered Lu Ten in the same vague way he remembered a good dream, the laughter, and bubbly feeling of positive attention. He always had a bad joke and a loud laugh at the ready. When Zuko and Azula had grueling bending lessons and Lu Ten was home he’d come steal them away, slinging them over his shoulders like sacks of potatoes. ‘Rescuing’ them, he’d say. Then they’d stuff themselves with stolen sweets from the kitchens while the staff smiled and pretended not to notice.

“Okay!” Zuko jerks back to the present as Ryu slaps his hands onto the counter, either oblivious to or ignoring Jin’s sharp look. “So I was thinking-”

“Ryu,” Jin says flatly.

“Alright alright, we were thinking,” Ryu steeples his fingers as if he’s making a business offer. “You’re new here, and we’re not. You know how to take down bad guys, and we know how to find them. You see where I’m going with this? What if we teamed up and worked together?”

“No.” Zuko’s eyebrow twitches.

“That was too fast, you have to let me finish.”

Jin pushes Ryu’s head down and rolls her eyes, “Sorry, he’s being dramatic. We don’t know how to ‘find any bad guys,’” She uses air quotes. “What he means is if you need our help at all in any of your future endeavors, we’re here for you.”

“This isn't a game.” Zuko snaps, irritated.

“I know!” Ryu pops up from under Jin’s hand, frustration bleeding from his tone and posture. His eyebrows are drawn and his eyes are dampening and his voice cracks as he says, “They took me!”

Then he hastily rubs his eyes with the back of his hand and adds. “And you know, I found out later one of those kids from the other night was my friend’s brother’s classmate’s neighbor’s cousin, so… I heard from her that he said that she said his cousin was pretty grateful for the guy in the mask. And… it’d be cool to keep it from happening again, right?” He looks up at Zuko on the last word, big brown eyes still a little red.

Jin chimes in, “We are taking this seriously, and we won’t go with you if you don’t want us to.” She pinches the back of Ryu’s neck when he protests that. “We want to help because it’s the right thing to do.”

Agni preserve him; why are they so difficult.

It would be easier and better for everyone if he shut them down now. It would be wise for him to preserve their cover and not wear the mask again, not needlessly put himself and Uncle at risk. But it was the first time in a long time he’d felt a purpose. He’d felt needed. If he hadn’t done what he did Tae-Soo wouldn’t be safe with her family right now. He’d faced the odds and come out on top for once in his life and it felt good.

He crosses his arms, trying to be angry at them and only succeeding at being angry at himself. “If I need directions or information I’ll consider asking you.”

Jin beams as Ryu pumps his fist in the air. She sounds pleased when she says, “That’s all we’re asking for.”

“Yes! You want information? We’ve got sooooo much information,” Ryu starts speaking rapid-fire and counting on his fingers. “The streets aren’t safe at night, the taxes in this city are out of control, the new guards are useless, the property values-”

“You’re eleven,” Jin cuts him off. “You can’t just list all the things mom complains about. You don’t even understand what half of that means.” She drains her cup and sets it on the counter, “Oh, right I almost forgot. Here you go.” She fishes in her pocket for change.

Zuko pushes her money back to her, “It’s on the house.” If Pao’s not going to help then Zuko’s entitled to handing out free drinks if he feels like it.

“Oh, well that’s a relief.” Ryu downs the rest of his tea in one go and scrunches his nose, making a show of wiping his tongue off on his arm. “We’d pay for tea, but this is just hot leaf juice.”

Jin, the absolute menace, laughs.