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Lu Ten never goes away. He’s always there, in the corner of Zuko’s vision. Sometimes he’s normal, a smile on his face as he watches Zuko play or draw. Other times, his cousin’s skin is sunken in, barely clinging to the bones on his face. His hair becomes thinner, and once Zuko watched in muted horror as his eye slowly rolled out of its socket and dangled there.
The day Zuko woke up and saw Lu Ten open his mouth, his cousins tongue rolled straight out and onto the floor. It was quickly joined by maggots and worms. Zuko had screamed loud enough for his mother to hear him from downstairs.
By the time his Mom made it to his room, he had begun hyperventilating, tears racing down his cheeks. His Mom quickly went to his bed and wrapped him in her arms. The smell of her vanilla soap had filled his nose. Zuko knew he should feel safe, but he was scared to open his eyes. What if Lu Ten had gotten worse?
His mom began singing as his breathing got worse and worse.
The words were muffled, like Zuko’s head had been plunged underwater. His mother began rocking him, and Zuko felt his breathing go back to normal. He still clung desperately to his mom, he small fingers digging into her white blouse.
Eventually, he came back to his senses, tears still streaming down his face. He pulls away from his mother, and hesitantly opens his eyes.
He’s met with the kind face of his mother. From what he could tell, she seemed calm. “What’s wrong?” Her voice is calm as though he were an animal she was afraid of scaring away.
“L-Lu Ten is still here.” He says, his bottom lip wobbling as a new wave of tears roll down his face. He refuses to look back in the corner of his room, for fear of seeing Lu Ten there.
“Where?” His mother asks simply.
Zuko looks back up at her and sees familiar camouflage printed pants behind his mother.
“Right behind you.” His mother’s face paled.
Zuko hadn’t eaten lunch that day. Every time he prepared to take a bite, he remembered the maggots eating their way through his cousin’s tongue.
The whole time, his parents remained quiet. The only one to fill the silence had been Azula. She rambled on about many things. The cartoons she watched that day, what book she read, and even that she wished Mai and Ty Lee could visit. Eventually, the six year old noticed that everyone seemed quiet.
“Sweetie, can you go upstairs? We need to talk to your brother.” Zuko stared at his plate, refusing to look up and make eye contact with his father as he was speaking. Every time the leaf of lettuce on his sandwich moved, for a split second he thought the maggots might be back.
Azula huffed and pushed her chair back. Her small feet quickly went up the stairs. A second later, he heard the door to her room close. Zuko knew she would sneak out and hide on the loft, it was the perfect place to eavesdrop on what was happening downstairs without being seen.
“Zuko, we need to talk about Lu Ten.” His mother said, her voice quiet yet worried. Zuko immediately decided he hated it. Zuko tried not to use that word often, Mom said it was a strong word. However, now, he felt like Mom shouldn’t be worried. She should be scared, because Lu Ten was still here.
“I know you miss him, but he’s dead. He isn’t coming back.” His Father pointed out bluntly. Maybe it’s Lu Ten in the corner of his vision, maybe it’s the hatred from his mothers tone, or maybe it’s the fact that he hasn’t had more than five hours of sleep in three days, but something lights a match in him. The anger is hot, and the smoke just might suffocate him. So, with all his eight year old anger, he looks up and glares at his father.
“Lu Ten isn’t dead! He’s standing right over there!” Zuko points to the walkway between the kitchen and the main living room, seeing the back of his cousin. Something in him screams that this can’t be his cousin as the figure’s head turns a full one eighty degrees to look at Zuko.
In Ursa’s eyes, there’s nothing there. To Ozai, the only entity he sees is in his son.
“Zuko, do you see things often?” Mother asks again, looking at Zuko. Almost immediately, he feels bad about his outburst. He knew Father was trying his best, he said so on day he drank.
“Yeah, but I only see Lu Ten.” He replied, looking down at his plate. Under the table, he began picking at his fingernails. The repeated action of peeling the nail off and moving to the next was oddly calming to him.
He glanced up once there was a silent pause. His parents shared a look. If Zuko was being honest, his Father seemed slightly worried. He never seemed worried, especially at this time of day. Normally, his Father had a drink and then became more emotional. Zuko felt confusion buzz under his skin.
“I think you need to talk to someone.” His mom had suggested.
“Like who?” He responded, looking up at his mom. He ignored Lu Ten in the corner of his vision.
“A therapist. This isn’t normal.” His Father said, blunt yet again. Zuko watched as his Mom lightly smacked his Father on the arm. His father’s words hurt him, it wasn’t his fault he could see Lu Ten still, right?
In time, the wound from his Father’s words would never quite heal.
Zuko had met his Therapist that next Tuesday. In the week that had passed, he ignored Lu Ten’s decaying form. At this point, he knew that whatever he was seeing wasn’t his cousin anymore. The presence seemed darker, almost. Whatever warmth he felt in his cousins presence was gone.
Strangely, both Mom and Father had left him with his doctor. Zuko was mostly reserved through the whole thing, but when the doctor introduced herself, he made sure to pay attention.
“Hello, my name is Doctor Kya Qanik. What’s your name?” She held out her hand and Zuko looked up to meet her eye. Doctor Quaik had the most blue eyes Zuko had ever seen. Her skin was darker and Zuko couldn’t help but think she was really pretty, like Mom.
“My names Zuko, y-your really pretty.” Zuko introduced himself while shaking her hand. After his introduction, his face flushed and he pulled his hand back. The therapist chuckled at his response and began speaking.
“Nice to meet you Zuko. This first session is mostly going to be me asking you questions, I won’t tell anyone else your answers, okay?”
Zuko peeled the nail on his index finger and nodded. “Okay.” The nail landed on the red fuzz carpet near the couch he sat on. The couch was blue, and fabric. Nothing in the room quite matched, but all the colors were interesting for Zuko to look at.
“What’s your favorite color?”
Zuko found himself answering quickly, his voice still quiet. “I like red, but grey is nice too.”
“Blue is my favorite color. When’s your birthday?”
“December 17th.”
The questions go back and fourth like this the whole time, and Zuko can’t help but think Doctor Quaik was nice.
Once the hour and a half was over, Zuko’s mom came to pick him up. With a smile, Zuko told the doctor goodbye. As the lady waved goodbye, Zuko’s face paled at the sight of a man with an off angle neck standing right behind his therapist. The man’s neck was bent almost completely to the right, a piece of bone looking close to puncturing his skin. His eyes were hazed over, and he sent a gaping smile to Zuko, bloody saliva dripping from his mouth.
Against all of his instincts, Zuko screamed.