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Surprisingly, it is night when Zuko feels most comfortable.
There aren’t usually people watching him at night. The fire that thrums under his skin recedes like low tide, and his classic angst melts into a manageable shape.
When Zuko wakes tonight, the first thing he notices is that Katara is not there. He should not be worried: she’s one of the most capable benders he’s ever known, and that’s saying something. It’s almost scary to compare her as she is now to the girl he’d first met in the forest, the one he’d tied to a tree.
Ah, memories. How Zuko wishes he could forget. Or, at least, go back.
And yet, despite everything, it feels like this is how things were always meant to be.
He treks down to the beach, half in search of Katara. There is not much danger on Ember Island, but he’d rest better knowing where she is. Sure enough, she is sitting with her legs out in front of her while the sea dances around her. Push and pull, yin and yang. Blue and red.
“Katara,” he says. She turns slightly and looks at him.
“Hi, Zuko,” she says.
Zuko sits down next to her, and she keeps him dry. “Can’t sleep?”
Katara turns back toward the sea and the full moon. “No,” she says. “It’s not anything serious. Just, dreams.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
When Katara looks back at him, her gaze is soft, affection in the smooth lilt of her voice. “It’s okay,” she says. “It’s stupid.”
Zuko doesn’t answer. He can only watch as the breeze rustles their hair. There is an insatiable craving inside him, but he does not know for what.
“When we win,” Zuko says, loving the way her eyebrows twitch and her mouth slants, “I’ll bring you to the pond at the palace. I think you’d like the turtle-ducks.”
“Turtle-ducks,” she says, tasting the word. “I’ve never seen one before.”
“They’re adorable.” Zuko traces his finger through the damp sand. “And gentle, and protective.” Like you, he thinks, but doesn’t say.
Katara hums to herself. “I think I’d get along with them,” she says. “Are they your friends?”
Zuko ponders this for a moment. He’s not used to the idea of friends, even now. “I guess so,” he says. There’s a slight tremor in his voice that he wishes he could smooth out. “My mother and I used to feed them breadcrumbs.”
“They must like you, then.” Katara bumps his shoulder with her own. “Animals have a nose for that kind of thing.”
“I wasn’t a good person then,” says Zuko.
“You’re a good person who’s made mistakes,” Katara corrects him. “You’re not entirely at fault.”
“They were my choices.”
“Did anyone show you that there were other paths?” When Zuko is quiet, Katara continues. “You were failed by the people around you. That’s not your fault.”
“As were you,” says Zuko, quietly.
Katara laughs. It’s a strange thing to find humor in, their shared trauma. “I guess it’s something we have in common. But I did always have Sokka. Even if he was more annoying back then.” She smiles secretively. “Don’t tell him I said that.”
Zuko’s heart pounds.
“I won’t,” he manages to say.
Katara’s responding grin is as bright as the moon. She flops back in the sand, stretching her hands over her head. “What a great time for weird dreams,” she says.
Zuko wants to ask again, but he doesn’t. They sit in silence, staring up at the moon.
Finally, Zuko relents. “Were they bad dreams?”
Katara bites her lip. “No,” she says. “They were really good dreams.”
Zuko raises an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Yeah,” says Katara. “They were just… weird. You know. Different. Like, something I want but can’t have.”
“There’s something you can’t have?” Zuko asks, confused. There is nothing in this world Katara could not get if she tried.
Katara laughs softly, almost bitterly. “Of course there is,” she says. Her gaze lingers on him for a moment too long; Zuko wants to wonder what that means. She rests back in the sand. “Ugh, I hate this. I really wanna just like… do something stupid.”
“I’m stupid,” Zuko blurts. Immediately, his face flushes fire-red. Katara doesn’t look much better.
“You — I — What,” she flusters. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Zuko averts his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to… say that.”
Katara looks at him for a long moment, like she’s trying to figure him out still. His motivation, what drives him. Why he would say that.
“Zuko,” she says carefully. “Do you… like me?”
Zuko’s body goes cold. “I mean, yeah,” he says. “We’re friends.”
“No, I mean…” Katara sits up abruptly, her hands balling up into sand-filled fists. “I mean, I like you, Zuko. In the… romantic sense of the word.”
For a moment, everything is still but the wind. It carries out its leisurely journey through the world, whispering secrets. This is one of them.
“Why?” Zuko manages.
“I don’t know,” says Katara. She doesn’t look at him, focusing her gaze outward across the sea, thinking of something distant. “A lot of reasons.”
“Then, your dreams…?”
Katara looks over at him. “Sorry. I don’t wanna weird you out or anything. That’s why I wasn’t going to say anything.”
“Saying things is hard,” Zuko manages to choke. That feeling of wanting is stuck in his throat again, and this time he knows exactly what he wants. The real question is if he will have the courage to do it.
“Listen.” Katara waves her hand nonchalantly, but Zuko can feel the faint pinpricks of a tired sadness in her voice. “You don’t have to like me like that. I don’t expect you to. We can pretend this didn’t happen.”
“I don’t want to,” Zuko says. Katara looks over at him again, her attention shifting from the waves to his eyes. Zuko swallows thickly. “Katara. I like you.”
“You… do?”
Zuko bristles. “You don’t have to sound so surprised,” he mumbles.
“Sorry,” Katara says, but when Zuko looks over, her grin is the widest he’s ever seen it.
“You’re really something,” says Zuko, breathlessly.
Katara leans in close. “Is that so?”
He swallows thickly; his eyes glance down quickly at her mouth, at the sliver of space between them. “May I…” he trails off. Katara takes the plunge for him, pressing her mouth to his. After a pause, Zuko closes his eyes, brings one hand up to her cheek. Katara makes a satisfied noise against him that pangs straight into his heart. After a moment, Katara pulls away gently.
“After we win the war,” she says, “I’ll take you on a real date.”
Zuko cocks his head. “I think I’ve been on one of those before.”
“Oh, really?” Katara raises an eyebrow, amused. “You have?”
“I can get dates too,” says Zuko.
Katara hums a note of satisfaction. She presses a quick kiss to his lips, softly. “I guess you can,” she says.
Zuko leans forward and kisses her again. He does not wonder when the sun will rise.