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Another battle.
They walked shoulder to shoulder, he and Tomas. Kuai Liang was utterly confident in his abilities. After three full years of active participation in the war, he had become a master—a formidable opponent. His comrades respected him. He was unafraid of death.
"Think Scorpion will be scared of you again?" His friend nudged him in the shoulder. The waterbender grimaced—he wasn’t in the mood today, and the usual discomfort from touch only intensified. But he clenched his teeth, unwilling to hurt a close friend. He knew how much it wounded those attached to him, even if he couldn’t change his reactions. His fiancée, Frost, had often been upset and angered by his detachment in the past.
But the name of the firebender—the enemy commander, Hanzo Hasashi—stirred something within him. Damn dreams. Forbidden, wrong, terrifying. The golden-brown eyes of his enemy, staring straight at him. Dreams that mirrored reality—but not just that. Hot breath scorching his skin, hands touching him so gently, sliding along his neck, his face, before their lips met in a kiss. It was all… meaningless. He shouldn’t. But dreams were hard to erase from memory.
"I don’t think he’s afraid of me," Kuai Liang smirked. Because in his eyes, there was always challenge, interest, tension—but never fear. Never fear.
Once, Kuai Liang had feared his opponent. But now, their open battles had become almost routine. And yet, just as at the beginning of their clashes, even now—three years later—they both remained unharmed. Scorpion always found a reason to disengage before the fight grew too intense. And that… unsettled him.
"You’re the only one who terrifies him, oh great Master of Water, Kuai Liang." Tomas never tired of joking about it, much to Bi-Han’s irritation. His elder brother had become head of their family after their father’s death and was preparing to marry a girl from a neighboring village, Sareena. But he was also waiting for Kuai Liang to finally agree to wed Frost so they could hold both weddings together. Their father had promised his deceased friend that his son would marry her. Oaths had to be honored—even those made by others, even when both men who had sworn them were dead, even when the bride, raised in their household since childhood, despised him. Still, Kuai Liang kept finding reasons to delay, though guilt gnawed at him. He had urged Bi-Han to marry without him, but his brother stubbornly insisted on taking this step together.
"Would be nice," Kuai Liang muttered as they prepared, waiting for the enemy forces. The Fire Nation showed no signs of stopping, determined to conquer the North—its ships, its powerful fleet, its crystal-palace cities, its valuable resources. They had to defend their homeland.
Some villages had been taken by the enemy; others, they had reclaimed. Battles raged with mixed success—sometimes they won, sometimes they had to retreat.
Today, they were reclaiming another settlement. Enemy soldiers arrived.
Kuai Liang threw himself into the fight, forgetting everything else. He froze, immobilized, but did not kill. Even if they were invaders. Principles still mattered, even if he kept silent about them. No one would understand. Never.
As he fought, he scanned the battlefield for the wounded. Long ago, he had argued with his father for the right to study healing, enduring mockery from nearly all his kin—because in the Northern Water Tribe, only women became healers. But his brother had supported him. Now, that skill often proved useful. Kuai Liang was glad he could help—even if respect for him came from anything but his healing.
He sensed Scorpion’s presence instantly. That piercing gaze, those familiar movements—deadly, dangerous. Hanzo fought two of his comrades, Hydro and Cyrax, but they were losing. Kuai Liang rushed to aid them, but the firebender was faster. He struck both with disorienting blows—swift, lethal, yet he didn’t finish them off. Just knocked them out, brushing them aside like nuisances. And this… wasn’t the first time. Kuai Liang froze.
Then their eyes met.
And Scorpion… smiled at him. Bright. Sincere. Warm.
His heart pounded harder.
Again. Again. He turned away, hating himself for even analyzing the enemy’s strange behavior. None of this mattered. It shouldn’t. He would never smile back. Even if the man’s name stirred his soul, even if those eyes haunted his dreams nearly every night.
Yet he pursued him, determined to reach him. He wanted to defeat him. Despite Tomas’ jokes, he knew the enemy commander would never fear him. But these games… were exhausting. Certainly not intriguing. Absolutely not.
Hasashi retreated as if genuinely afraid of his strikes. Kuai Liang smirked. Lie. This man feared nothing. Not even hell itself.
They moved away from their comrades. Their blades clashed—but this time, Hanzo didn’t use fire, despite his mastery of it. Kuai Liang, in turn, didn’t summon ice. If the enemy wanted to fight like this, why not indulge him? After all, his martial skills were just as sharp.
Experience gave Commander Hasashi the advantage. Kuai Liang struggled to predict his strikes—but he could still counter them.
Until…
Until Hanzo grabbed his wrist.
And Kuai Liang, for some reason, didn’t slash back—though he easily could have. Instead, he stilled, eyes narrowing. The touch didn’t disgust him. Just left a strange burn on his skin, unrelated to fire. He was taking a risk. But he was curious. His life wasn’t that precious—he was replaceable. And Scorpion, it seemed, had no intention of killing him. He felt it. There had been countless opportunities before, in all their encounters.
Hanzo lowered his blade as well. His eyes burned. He looked agitated. Tense.
"You’ve been avoiding me, Kuai Liang." His voice was rough. Calm. Hearing his own name from the enemy’s lips made his face heat.
"Have I?" The waterbender arched a brow. "I thought it was you avoiding me."
He didn’t know if this was normal battlefield banter—they’d never spoken directly before, rarely even clashed. Mostly, it was just glances. And lately, smiles—from Hanzo. Never from Kuai Liang. He wouldn’t smile at an enemy.
"Perhaps," the firebender conceded. "But I wouldn’t mind talking to you."
This was all so confusing. Talk to the enemy? About what?
"What do you want?" he snapped. Hanzo still hadn’t released his wrist. And Kuai Liang was still taking risks. But moments like these—rare, fleeting—were the only ones he ever chose for himself. Everything else obeyed duty, rules, dogma. Even his body would no longer be his own once he married.
"Heal me." Hanzo’s gaze was strange. Feverish. He let go, exposing a wound on his shoulder.
Kuai Liang frowned.
"What?" The question slipped out, stupid and automatic. A smile tugged at his lips. This was absurd.
"I’m injured. And you’re a healer." Scorpion looked dead serious. "Heal me."
"Are you… mocking me?" His voice wavered. "I’m not your soldier, Hanzo. And you’re not my commander."
"Why not?" The firebender shrugged.
"You’re seriously asking?" He should have been furious at the audacity. Instead, he was just stunned. Bi-Han would have attacked by now—though no, his brother would never have gotten into this absurd situation in the first place. "You’re my enemy!"
"I’m the only one who sees the miracle in your abilities, Kuai Liang." Hanzo met his gaze directly. Kuai Liang swallowed but didn’t look away. "Your comrades are fools. They don’t realize how this surpasses everything else magic can do. A power that can restore, save lives—it’s divine. And they… take it for granted. As something unimportant. Their blindness should anger you."
The waterbender went still. Bitter emotion hit him unexpectedly hard. No one had ever spoken of healing like that. Before, it had been just another reason to mock him. It didn’t matter—because even without healing, the mockery would have remained. His views had always differed, and in his youth, he’d foolishly tried to defend them instead of hiding them. Now, as one of the strongest warriors, his healing was just a useful side skill.
Why did these words come from an enemy, and not his own kin? They would never say such things…
"What are you saying?" His tongue felt heavy. "You sound delirious. Or maybe… I am."
"Perhaps." Hanzo took his wrist again. And Kuai Liang let him. "But why not heal me? I’m injured. And your gift fascinates me. To receive true recognition for your abilities—because it is precious. Aren’t you curious how it feels to use your gift on someone who sees it as… beautiful?"
He was mocking him. Definitely. But the words struck deep anyway. Kuai Liang met his gaze defiantly, cheeks burning.
"Aren’t you afraid I’ll slit your throat, Commander Hasashi?" Water coiled around his fingers, obedient to his will. But the firebender stood calmly, as if… trusting him.
"Then why haven’t you?" Hanzo’s voice was soft. "Why are you talking to me instead of fighting?"
"Why are you?" Kuai Liang looked away, focusing on the wound. His fingers brushed the skin, water weaving through flesh, knitting it back together. He didn’t know why he was healing an enemy. But… curiosity overpowered reason. Scorpion had always intrigued him.
"Answering a question with a question?" Hanzo smirked, warmth in his tone. Kuai Liang lowered his head.
The firebender watched him—intently, and judging by the spark of awe in his eyes, his admiration wasn’t feigned. He looked the way Kuai Liang himself did when witnessing something breathtaking—the ocean, the northern lights, snowbound wastes. Now, the blue glow of his magic entranced the enemy commander.
Hanzo closed his eyes. Whispered:
"This is… beautiful. You are beautiful, Kuai Liang."
Heat flooded him. And fear. Kuai Liang jerked his hand back. His wrists burned. Something inside him twisted—sweet and painful.
"Stop." He stepped back. "You’ve lost your mind."
"Maybe." Scorpion’s gaze scorched him. Pulled him in. "But you’re the one driving me mad."
His heart hammered wildly. This was insanity. He had to leave. He’d gone too far. The enemy was provoking him.
"Your eyes haunt my dreams," the firebender whispered. Something raw flickered across his face—hunger, too strong to hide.
Dreams. Kuai Liang remembered them. Wrong. Tempting. Utterly maddening.
"Enough!" His hands trembled. "Fight me or leave."
"Say something. Reject me. Kill me. Just don’t stay silent."
"What else is there to say?" He knew he should walk away. But he didn’t. "This is absurd. But…" He met Hanzo’s eyes. The man looked vulnerable—uncharacteristically so. "The truth is… I dream of you too."
He said it. Perfect. Now he had to leave. It didn’t matter. Just words. He turned, strangely unafraid of a blade in his back, and walked toward the battlefield.
But Hanzo caught him, forcing him to turn back.
"You can’t just walk away. Not after saying that." His voice was too desperate. His grip tightened, as if afraid Kuai Liang would vanish.
"Why not?" The waterbender tried to pull free. Scorpion held firm.
"Because… I need to understand." He stepped closer, until their breaths mingled. "What do you dream of? Am I alone in this madness?"
"Do you really want to know?" Kuai Liang whispered. This time, he closed the distance. Hanzo’s eyes widened.
"Yes." The firebender swallowed.
And Kuai Liang kissed him.
Like in the dreams. As if this weren’t real. Let Hanzo push him away. Let balance be restored.
Their lips met—and Hanzo responded too eagerly, too fiercely, pulling him close as if afraid he’d change his mind. Kuai Liang closed his eyes. This was his first kiss. Frost had been possessive, though their relationship had soured over the years since their betrothal. Once, they had been close—family, friends. But they’d drifted apart. Had he been the one to pull away? Frost had tried to reconcile at first, to support him. But he had shut her out, resentful of the engagement, of her pretending to others that she wanted to be his wife when she despised the idea. Over time, avoidance became habit. Sometimes, he wondered if she truly hated him. The only remnant of her old devotion was jealousy—cold, devoid of affection. But he himself made no effort to get close to anyone else. Why bother, when marriage was unavoidable, and touch brought no pleasure—only a dull ache within?
But none of that mattered now. For the first time in years, he felt a strange euphoria. This defied all rules. It would get him killed. But he had chosen it.
He pushed Hanzo against a tree, capturing his lips, trailing down his neck. The firebender’s breath hitched, pulse wild. Kuai Liang wasn’t any better. He’d never understood why people sought physical closeness—until now. It felt like a revelation.
"Be mine, Kuai Liang." Hanzo’s voice was rough, low—just hearing it made his blood burn. But the waterbender pulled back. This wasn’t a dream. This was real.
He traced Hanzo’s cheek, fingers brushing his throat. The man watched, dazed, as if drunk on touch, oblivious to the threat. But Kuai Liang knew he wouldn’t strike.
"I’m not yours," he said, barely recognizing his own voice. His lips sought Hanzo’s again, and the firebender kissed him with possessive desperation. "I’ll never be yours." Yet his hands pulled the enemy closer, his entire being alight with the insanity of it. "You know that. I’m not your soldier."
Hanzo nipped his earlobe, sending a jolt through him. Kuai Liang gasped. Too good. Too dangerous. Shame would come later. Inevitably. But for now, it just felt good.
"I’m not yours," he repeated—but it sounded like a confession.
They had to return. To their sides. Or the risk would grow too great. A whirlwind of emotions—bright, intense, painful—swept through him, leaving him weak, trembling. He’d never felt like this before. Hanzo’s flushed face, his eyes full of desire, passion, fire—it all seared into his memory, an indelible scar.
"For now." Hanzo looked at him with strange tenderness. "Meet me here tonight. I’ll wait."
Kuai Liang stepped back, heated from the closeness, and smirked.
"I won’t come. Don’t wait in vain."
"Liar." The firebender smiled back—bright, open, just like in battle. "But I’ll be here anyway."
The waterbender turned and walked away without another word. Of course he wouldn’t come. This was a mistake. Adrenaline. Provocation. To continue would be madness. It meant nothing.
But…
He clenched his teeth, curiosity and desire warring within him. He’d always been fascinated by Commander Hasashi. By Hanzo. He wasn’t risking anything.
A lie. He was risking everything. His life included.
But that only made it more thrilling. His heart pounded, making him feel more alive than ever. Maybe he wanted to break everything. Maybe he wanted to burn. To flood the gray edges of his duty, his emptiness, with color—even if it poisoned him. Even if it killed him.
And if Hanzo was the flame, then he would fly toward him like a moth.
Because he had chosen this.