Chapter Text
Leave it to Aang to bring back a roommate candidate that’s old enough to be his grandfather.
Aang texts Sokka the details all of about five minutes before the two of them walk in through the bright blue door of their loft. His name is Iroh, he’s fifty-five years old, and they bonded over Aang’s tattoos and tea at the bus stop. He’s just moved to Ba Sing Se from Capital City with plans to expand his business and open a second tea shop two blocks over.
“There’s a very lovely apartment right above the shop I’ve purchased,” Iroh explains. His voice is weathered, scratchy, but extremely warm. It takes all of maybe two minutes for Sokka to understand why Aang trusted him so easily. “But it needs a lot of repairs, and it will take some time with renovations. When I told Aang I was hoping to find a place close by to oversee the work, he informed me that you guys might be in need of a roommate and I thought, well.” He laughs. “Fate sure is a funny thing.”
Sokka has to fight the roll of his eyes at the mention of fate, but he’s sure his sister is made a little mushier from his words. But the truth of the matter is that, yeah, they do need a roommate. Living in the city isn’t cheap. And if the grandpa with the colorful robes and the magnificently braided beard wants to fill the spot, he honestly doesn’t have the heart to refuse.
“I mean, it’s fine with me,” Sokka says, waving his hand around to gesture for the others to put in their votes. Katara and Aang immediately nod their heads. Toph scratches at Appa’s head and stares at the floor, still unsure. “He looks pretty harmless.”
“Iroh seems pretty great!” Aang adds. “And he told me he’s only been to jail, like, once.”
It’s just the right thing to say because Toph throws her head back and cackles. “Hell yeah! He’s in. But I want free tea when the place opens up.”
Iroh smiles. “I can arrange that.”
Zuko didn’t think there could be someone more exasperating than his younger sister until he met his other younger sister.
In Kiyi’s defense, she’s five. And hell, if he was five years old all over again and he was sent to go live with some long lost older brother he knew nothing about after his parents died, he might be a bit dramatic about it, too. So she does well, all things considered. But she picks the strangest battles. Today it’s about her sneakers. She wants to go barefoot for some inexplicable reason, and not even an internet image search of public transportation filth can sway her from her decision.
“Oh, just let her, Zuzu,” Azula says, taking a dainty bite of her toast. She licks some melted peanut butter off her thumb. “She’ll step in some dog shit on the way to the bus stop and learn her lesson soon enough.”
Zuko closes his eyes and sighs, breathing heavily out of his nose. He grabs Kiyi’s arm before she can race off with an apparent victory. His other hand gently cups her chin and tilts her head up to look at him. “What did I say about listening to Azula?”
Kiyi pouts. “Don’t.”
Azula scoffs, finishing the rest of her toast in bitter silence.
“Shoes. Now. You’re going to be late for school, and I don’t really have time for this. I have to take Azula to her doctor’s appointment.” Behind him, he hears the scratch of the chair at the table and he snaps his finger, throwing his arm behind him. “Do not throw your pills down the garbage disposal again.”
Azula tuts, mumbling something about a traitor. Zuko momentarily leaves Kiyi in favor of pouring a glass of orange juice, setting it in front of Azula with a pointed thud. “Here.” He shoves her pill box to her. “Take them.”
“Zuzu-”
“ Take. Them.”
She frowns, but takes them, rolling her eyes when Zuko makes her stick her tongue out to check that she really swallows them. For a moment, when she gets up, shoulders more hunched than they were five minutes ago, he lets himself feel bad. He knows the pills turn her into a bit of a zombie, but it’s better than the unmedicated alternative.
“Okay, I’m ready!”
Kiyi stands in the kitchen with her right foot in a sparkly pink rain boot, the other in a summer sandal.
“Sure,” Zuko says, shoving both his sisters’ lunches in their arms. “That’ll work.”
In Toph’s opinion, Iroh proves to be the best roommate, like, ever.
No one has to explain to him some of the extra measures they all have to take to compensate for Toph’s blindness. He just knows. Sokka spent an exorbitant amount of time laying out the kitchen and their single bathroom in a way that makes it easy to navigate (pantry specifically organized, soaps in a certain order, toothbrushes and towels….kept in everyone’s own room after Sokka found out he had been sharing a toothbrush with Toph for two months), and Iroh doesn’t disturb the system. He does, however, disturb breakfast routines, in that he makes everyone breakfast and brews tea every morning, which is awesome for her. She sucks at cooking. Hell, she sucks at pouring cereal. And because the birds wake her up and Aang wakes up to sing with the birds, the two of them find themselves looking forward to their mornings with Iroh while he teaches Aang card games and tells Toph stories.
“Why Ba Sing Se?” Toph asks two or three weeks in. Katara and Sokka start joining them when Iroh baits them with bacon, but today they are still a little dead to the world, quiet and without their normal quarreling, waiting for the caffeine to do its job. “I know this place is big and all but I feel it’s lost its city of dreams title years ago. This is kinda the worst city ever.”
“Ah,” Iroh sounds sad. Toph hears their cat Momo hop on the table to join in the fun. His tail whips around and Aang whines about fur in his cup. “The thing is, I’m hoping my nephew might be here. Unfortunately, for reasons out of my control, I lost contact with him several years ago."
Toph is more than nosey. “How come?”
“It’s a very long story. And, unfortunately, it’s not a very happy story, either.”
Sokka shifts uncomfortably beside her. As a group, they’ve all got emotional scars and family issues out the ass, but his are more recent - he’s still licking his wounds. “I’m sorry. We won’t pry.”
“Nonsense,” Iroh assures. “You could do no such thing. I just worry.”
They all wait.
“My brother is not a kind man.”
“I like your tattoos.”
Zuko instinctively pulls Kiyi closer to him just as the stranger lets out a happy, “Hey! Thanks!” Despite the fact that they’re all standing on the bus, the young man manages to lean down to be face to face with Kiyi. He holds his arms out, inviting her to touch them, and she giggles, tracing the words and pictures inked in his skin.
“This isn’t a real turtle.” Kiyi tells him, tapping his arm for emphasis.
“Kiyi,” Zuko admonishes quietly. “Don’t be rude.”
“Nah, it’s fine!” The guy says. It’s been a long time since Zuko’s seen so many tattoos on any single person, and so intricate at that, so he figures the man must get a lot of questions. “This is called a lion turtle. It’s a very spiritual, magical creature.”
Her eyes light up. “Like a dragon!”
“Exactly. Got one of those on my back. Now this,” he points to his other arm, “is a sky bison. When I traveled to -”
The bus comes to a stop, the lights above the driver signaling that they’ve made it to their stop outside Ember Elementary. “Sorry,” Zuko mumbles, barely meeting the tattooed guy’s eye. “This is our stop. Say goodbye, Ki.”
“Bye-bye, tattoo man!”
Zuko’s pretty sure he hears the man give his name, but he moves to get off the bus so quickly that it doesn’t stick.
“Can I get a tattoo?” Kiyi asks, swinging their arms back and forth as they walk the final block down to the school.
“When you’re old enough, sure. Get as many as you’d like.”
“How old is old enough?”
“Eighteen.”
She deflates, nearly stopping dead in her tracks on the sidewalk. “Zuzu, that’s forever. That’s so old.”
He cracks a smile and tugs her along. “If that’s old, what does that say about me? I’m twenty-four.”
“Ancient.”
Zuko laughs a little louder this time before he scoops up a squealing Kiyi and sets her on his shoulders. Once again, he notes, he has lost the battle of matching shoes. He wonders if the teacher will send him another note concerning the fact that she only has one light up sneaker.
“Zuzu?” she asks, a little somber, resting her cheek on the top of his head.
He pats her foot in encouragement. “Yes?”
“...I forgot my lunch.”
He sighs.
Parenting your little sister is hard.
Iroh doesn’t know too much about his new roommates, but he does know that they’re quite the extraordinary group of friends.
Toph and Katara are athletes, that much is obvious - their shared room is covered in snowboarding trophies and judo medals. When they aren’t doing sports, Katara’s got her nose in a medical book and Toph is throwing pots at the ceramics studio or working at her gym downtown. Their schedules are always a bit crazy but when they’re together, Iroh will pass their open door and see them spread out on the floor sharing earbuds and listening to the same music, laughing and talking.
Sokka is whip smart. A certified genius, and pretty funny in Iroh’s opinion. He’s a jack of all trades. He can pick up anything at the drop of a hat. He has an assortment of jobs: some involve staring at code for hours on his computer, but most of the time he’s bringing home other people’s computers and appliances to fix, or going out to fix cars. When he’s not working, he’s reading. His library is impressive, packed so tightly, Iroh wonders how he gets them out to read in the first place.
He does notice the shelves are crowned by a wedding photo on the top: Sokka and a pretty girl his age, her hair dyed white. It’s next to an urn, which makes Iroh’s heart sink every time he passes by and sees it. He doesn’t ask about it.
Aang has more energy than a caffeine shot. His bubbly personality and colorful array of tattoos make it easy for him to start conversations and make friends. His room is covered in pictures of his travels. His bed is always a mess, but it doesn’t matter. He usually falls asleep in the hammock he’s set up high in the living room. He’s a part time student of religious studies, but volunteers nearly everywhere: the zoo, food drives, the art museum, animal shelters. But as soon as he mentions the need for a job, Iroh knows just what to do.
“I could use some help doing the final touches on my shop. Some things are too heavy for me to lift.”
“Ooh, ooh! I can do that.” He gently taps Sokka’s elbow with the end of his chopsticks, making him grimace. “Sokka could help, too. He’s really good at layouts and designs.”
“Sure,” Sokka shrugs, and Iroh smiles. Sokka does a poor job of hiding his caretaker role in the group. He acts nonchalant, but he sees what he does for the others. He always does Toph’s laundry, does the grocery shopping, and sticks cash in Katara’s wallet when she isn’t looking. Now Iroh wonders if this makes him part of the group, too. “Sounds fun.”
“And,” Aang pipes in. “When everything is said and done; if you need a barista of sorts, I’m your guy!”
Toph snorts. “Have you ever made coffee or tea?”
“Iroh can teach me!”
“That I can.” He smiles warmly at Aang. “You’ll be my first hire.”
Aang’s grin is blinding. “Does that automatically make me assistant manager?”
Iroh laughs, because he supposes it does.
Job hunting proves to be disastrous for Zuko.
Luckily, he has a little bit of time. Zuko’s been able to stretch the small amount of money he got from Ursa when she died so they can afford the one bedroom apartment in the lower west side of Ba Sing Se. It’s not the most ideal - he gave the bedroom to Azula, and Kiyi has to sleep out in the living room with him - but it works, for now.
If he’s being honest, he’s not sure what’s more of a hindrance for employment - the scar on his left eye, or the fact that he has to drag around a little sister young enough to be his daughter. The scar thing doesn’t make him the most friendly face for customer service, and the Kiyi thing, as adorable as she is, doesn’t make him seem like the most reliable employee. They appear like a two for one package, and he’s pretty sure shops and offices aren’t looking for kindergarten-aged associates.
But he can’t leave Kiyi with Azula - he can barely leave Azula by herself. This time he’s managed to coerce his downstairs neighbor, Song, to call his sister’s cell phone every single hour and make sure she’s okay. And it’s not like he thinks that Azula will necessarily hurt Kiyi - but he knows she’ll confuse her or upset her.
It’s all kinda fucked.
“So, where to next?” Kiyi asks as they climb the stairs back to their apartment, a day of misses and no thank yous . His sister was extremely patient and well behaved for the day and he’s rewarded her with an ice cream cone that’s melting down her arm. “I think you should work at the ice cream shop.”
He snorts, trying to fish his keys out of his backpack. “You just want free ice cream.”
She licks the mess on her forearm. “Well, duh!”
He’s got the key in the lock when the stairs in the walk up explode with noise. Zuko hears arguing, as well as the squelching of boots. He hears a man repeat instructions of coughing and breathing before another girl bites at him to shut up. The sound of a dog shaking it’s fur dry makes all of them whine.
Zuko’s curiosity gets the best of him and he waits to see what mess is climbing the stairs, and he isn’t disappointed. A woman in a formal kimono is absolutely drenched, her make-up running down her face. Another drenched girl, smaller, has her hair falling out of it’s bun and in her face. The boy is practically carrying her, the front of his shirt soaked and one of his boots missing. The dog smells like...well, wet dog. Kiyi pinches her nose.
“I’m telling you, we should really call my sister.” The boy says. “Dry drowning is a thing -”
“Oh my god, we’re fine Snoozles. Shut up.”
It takes a moment, but Zuko soon recognizes the woman in the kimono as his next door neighbor. He doesn’t know her name. Still, she offers Zuko a polite smile that he doesn’t return. Red lipstick and mascara are smeared all over her face as she opens her own apartment door and ushers her friends inside.
He hears the small girl say, “That’s the last time I walk Appa by the river,” before the door slams shut and Zuko and Kiyi are alone in the hallway.
“Her kimono was pretty,” Kiyi says. “Can I have one?”
He finally opens the door and ushers her inside. “Maybe one day. And only if you promise not to go swimming in it.”
Inside, Azula is sitting at the tiny excuse of a kitchen, playing cards by herself. Kiyi is eager to regale her with the sight they just saw, giving extra attention to the details of the kimono she thought was so beautiful.
“It sounds pretty,” Azula agrees, and Kiyi beams with happiness that her older sister apparently agrees with her. “But be careful. Kyoshi warriors are not to be trusted. They’re obstacles to the Fire Nation’s success. Remember that.”
Kiyi frowns at that, confused, and looks to Zuko for help. He smiles, but it’s much more like a grimace, and simply tells her to go finish her ice cream alone. Azula goes into more details about the Kyoshi warriors, talking to herself, while Zuko takes a peek at the pill box over the kitchen sink.
Full.
He says nothing, just pours a glass of water and scoots the pills her way, waiting in hard silence until she relents and takes them.
Aang doesn’t want to brag, but he’s kinda responsible for the Jasmine Dragon’s Grand Opening success.
(Okay, him and Suki. She’s great with coffee. And of course, Iroh. It’s his tea. But then again Sokka kinda saved the day when the espresso machine quit and he fixed it and then Katara is light speed at cleaning tables -”
So, maybe it’s a group effort. But his fruit tart recipe definitely pulled the most weight.
Aang’s been baking nonstop and surprisingly, he loves it. His foster parent Gyatso taught him all sorts of recipes with all different types of fruits. Iroh had originally never planned to sell too many baked goods, but after he caught Aang baking in the apartment one day, he asked if he’d like to take on the task. So far, so good: it feels a little like revisiting his childhood, when he was twelve and everything was simple.
He wakes up early, bakes, then settles in for the morning shift before he has to volunteer or go to class, and Iroh comes in to take over. It’s pretty smooth sailing. They already gain a few regulars in the span of a few weeks.
Including Miss Blue.
That’s not her name, but she doesn’t ever give it when he asks after she’s ordered her soy milk latte. Aang always figures she’s tired, given her glazed eyed look, so he lets it go. She always wears her hair in a loose bun on her head, the pieces framing her face dyed a bright, electric blue. Hence the name Miss Blue. He’s extremely clever.
He tried complimenting her on it, once. Said his roommate Katara sometimes dyed her hair with blue streaks, too.
Turns out Miss Blue isn’t really the chatty type.
But Aang still tries to make her smile. Makes it a personal goal. Suki teaches him latte art and he picks it up pretty quickly. He leaves the lid off her to-go cups so she can see it when he hands it over: he does flowers, hearts, a little kitty cat. Sokka figured out how to make a dragon in, like, one hour, the little overachiever , and it takes Aang the same amount of time begging to get him to teach him.
“One soy latte,” he says once he’s finally mastered it. “On the house today.”
Miss Blue takes the cup and looks at it and then - finally! - a smile. It’s a little crooked and sly, much like Toph’s can be, but he feels like he accomplished something. “A dragon. I love dragons.”
Hook, line, and sinker. “Yeah? Me too!”
She looks at it for a moment before she slaps the lid over it and takes a sip. Aang doesn’t know how. She orders it ridiculously hot. It’s gotta hurt. “Dragons are the original firebenders. Did you know that?”
That’s not what he’s expecting to come out of her mouth. His mind blanks. “Uh.”
“I dreamed of slaying one. But, they’re extinct of course. My uncle killed the last one.”
Aang blinks. “Oh. Right.” He squints while he goes through his mental Rolodex. “Is this some sort of book or something -”
He doesn’t get to finish. The chimes on the front door sing when it opens and a man - the one with the scar that Aang saw on the bus a few weeks ago - pokes his head in. “Hey,” he calls Miss Blue. “C’mon, we gotta go. Ki’s gonna be late for school.”
Miss Blue waves him off, but starts to head out. “Oh, very well. Thank you for the dragon,” she tells Aang on her way out. “I expect one on every latte I order from now on.”
He smiles and waves, and that’s that.
Iroh’s roommates let him in the Loft Group Chat. They call it the Aang Gaang. It’s silly and hard to follow, but he finds it profoundly amusing. It’s usually just Aang sending the group pictures of cute kittens at the shelter or pics of his favorite penguins at the zoo. Today, he’s volunteering at the Whaletail Aquarium and he’s become extremely smitten with their brand new koi fish exhibit. Iroh gets about 15 notifications in the span of two minutes.
[Aang] : Look at the white koi fish! I named it after Yue :3 She would have loved it.
The entire group leaves a heart emoji over the comment. There’s something bigger, something he’s missing.
He leaves a heart, too. It feels like the right thing to do.
The last photo Aang sends at the aquarium is a selfie by the koi fish. The background is relatively desolate as the aquarium is starting to close down, but something still catches his eye.
It’s an eye. A badly burned one. On the face of someone that looks so familiar it aches.
But he knows his mind is playing tricks on him as he leans down, showing a little girl the very white Koi fish that Aang and the rest have so dearly fallen in love with.
...Right?
As Kiyi sits in a lone corner of the gym while her brother tries to swindle himself into getting a job, she watches as a tiny, tiny woman keeps shoving big, burly men into the mat.
She’s in love with her, as much as any five year old can be in love.
“You’re really strong,” Kiyi says when the woman comes over, squirting water from a water bottle all over her face. “That’s so cool.”
Her grin is that of a madwoman. “Damn straight.” Kiyi watches as she wiggles her bare toes against the dirty gym floor; she’s inspired to kick off her own shoes, glad that someone else thinks shoes kinda suck. The woman looks at her, or rather over her, and asks: “Who is in charge of you?”
“My brother,” she says. “He’s talking to Mr. Piandao about teaching Taekwondo here.”
“Oh yeah?” More water to her face. Kiyi thinks she should drink it. “Sweet. I know Piandao needs help with his students.”
Kiyi looks behind her at all the guys that are sweating and panting from losing. “Are you a Taekwondo teacher, too?”
“Nope. What you just saw was judo. It’s different.”
“How?”
“Gotta sign up for classes to find out.”
Kiyi wrinkles her nose before she pouts. “How much are classes?” But then she remembers her secret stash of savings at home. “I have five dollars in my piggy bank!”
The woman laughs, loud and ugly. “Tell you what. If your brother gets the job, I’ll teach you free of charge. Employee perks.”
“Really!? You can do that?”
“I can do anything I want.” She wipes her mouth with her sleeve. “I own this gym.” She points behind her. “At least, I think it’s on that wall…”
Kiyi isn’t the best reader, but she tries her best. “Beifong….Athletes?”
“Beifong Athletics.”
“Awesome.”
“It really is, huh .”
Her brother comes out about ten minutes later, smiley and happy for a change.
It seems he’s gotten the job.
Ms. Beifong says she can start lessons next month.
Katara’s team gets a call about a mentally distressed woman in need of some care at around two in the afternoon on a Sunday.
She’s mildly worried when Due pulls the ambulance up to Suki’s apartment building, but it turns out to be right next door - not Suki at all. Instead, a man opens the door, hair sopping wet and clothes not too far off from that, the left side of his face covered in what is, yes, the mark of a burn.
It’s old though. It’s scarred, badly, but it’s healed. However, Due must stare just a hair too long because the man grits his teeth before they can get a word in. “ I’m not the burn victim,” he all but growls. “It’s my sister.” He steps back and gestures for them to come inside.
“What happened?”
“She turned the stove on and stuck her hand in the flame.”
Katara blinks.
He goes on to explain, “She thinks she can control fire.”
As Huu and Due push past her, a stretcher with them, they try to calm down the slightly hysterical woman. It doesn't go that well.
“Get off me!”
“Ma’am, please -”
“Filthy bloodbenders !”
Meanwhile, the brother shows her a prescription bottle written out for an Azula.
Katara recognizes the medicine as something used to treat psychosis.
“The burn….isn’t the only thing,” the man admits with a sigh.
She gently brushes past the guy to help Azula, who Huu has successfully calmed down. Aside from the terrible burn on her hand, she sees that her arms are covered in nicks and cuts. She’s bleeding quite a bit but Huu doesn’t look too worried as he helps bandage. There’s a pair of scissors on the floor that she must have used, both on her arms and her hair, which has been chopped to bits; half her bangs are gone.
“I just….I took a shower,” The man croaks, that original anger all gone. “I was in the shower. My younger sister, she’s five, she started screaming, and pulled Azula off the stove by the time I got out. She’d already...messed with her hair. And her arms.” He sighs.
Katara glances up at him before she concentrates on one of Azula’s arms. Due radios Tho that they’re gonna bring her down and she concentrates on helping get Azula on the stretcher - she’s no longer thrashing, but she’s openly sobbing. “Where’s your younger -”
The brother points across the hall. “I left her with the neighbor.” Suki. “ She agreed to watch her while….yeah.”
Katara’s about to say small world when Azula starts asking for her mom, loudly.
Her brother looks away, like it pains him. He opens his mouth, his whole body shaking. He runs his fingers through his hair. “I was just trying to take a shower. I was only in there for a few minutes…”
Katara feels more than bad. These situations are always so tough. “We’re gonna take her to Kuei Hospital for further treatment and….an evaluation.” Her brother nods pathetically as the boys take her down on the stretcher. “Are you gonna meet us down there?”
His eyes linger on the stove. It’s off, but he looks at it like he’s ready for it to light by itself. Like the flames will grow huge and lick at all their skin, burning them all.
His fingers graze the taut skin around his left eye.
“I’m right behind you,” he says.