Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He’d heard the statement from the Fire Lord, same as everybody. About the return of the Avatar, and that he was now the most wanted person in the world. He had no reason to doubt the statement, but he also didn’t have a reason to believe it either.

That all changed when Admiral Zhao arrived at Pouhai, commandeering the Yuyan Archers for his hunt.

Masao had been assigned to one of the squads sent out to hunt in the area around Pouhai, where the latest rumors said the Avatar was near. While still just a probatory member of the elite formation, all hands had been called in for the hunt. Masao didn’t care that much; he was ready to prove himself.

His squad didn’t even get to see the Avatar. After hours spent patrolling the swamps near Pouhai, a runner arrived and informed them that another squad had found and captured him. By the time they returned to Pouhai Fortress, the Admiral had imprisoned the Avatar within the highest spire of the fortress, guarded by his own men.

He then decided to carry out a speech as if he had captured the Avatar single-handedly. As he was technically the ranking officer at Pouhai, he was able to assemble the entire garrison, including the Yuyan. Even on probation, he had been forced to attend. 

Of course, standing in ranks at attention when some stuck-up officer wasn’t that different from standing around while a stuck-up noble gave a speech at a party. You just had to stand a bit straighter, if that was even possible. Masao just stood in rank, watching just to the left of where Zhao was standing and waiting until it was over. 

Thank Agni; it ended pretty quickly. Masao almost let out a sigh before he remembered he was still technically on duty. Yuyan weren’t supposed to speak around others. It had something to do with secrecy, though, in practice, it was tedious unless they were on a mission. Oh well. He was supposed to be the best, so he had to follow the rules. Again, it was just something he had gotten used to. 

So, he simply returned to his barracks. Behind those closed doors, he was actually able to speak. “And I thought Shinu was bad.”

Another probationary member, Caoli, shrugged and began to undo his topknot. “Officers.”

“Fair”, Masao said, flopping down on his bunk. “Still, at least we got out of the Fort.”

“Good point”, Caoli said. “Hopefully, we get assigned to a field operation soon.” Oh, that would be ideal. Masao didn’t like fighting, necessarily. But if he was to prove himself and grow in prestige within the Fire Nation military, then he had to enter the field. Years spent in training, then the previous months training with the Yuyan directly, all of it would finally pay off.

The two of them sat around, occasionally exchanging words back and forth with one another. Caoli was the closest thing he had to a friend amongst the other Yuyan recruits. He wasn’t like Ty Lee or Azula or… Well, he wasn’t a real friend like those back in the Home Isles. But he was the closest thing. 

Coali eventually petered off their sparse conversation, pulling out and beginning to read a scroll. Masao, meanwhile, just continued to lay there, counting the stitches in the comforter of the bunk above him. Like with his archery and his other martial training, such distractions were born from years of practice. Masao eventually grew tired of the silence, grabbing his bow and marching out to the archery range.

The regular army archers, as soon as they saw the half-complete Yuyan tattoo and his robes, gave Masao a wide berth. He ignored them, stringing his bow, filling his quiver with arrows, and beginning to put arrows downrange. It was a simple, numbing routine. Pull, nock, draw, loose. Pull, nock, draw, loose. Pull, nock, draw, loose. The only interruption was the whistling of the arrow sailing through the air and the impact on the distant target.

It was almost boringly easy, at this point. His instructors had praised him for being dedicated; it was simply how he was. Nearly every shot hit the center of the target, creating a blooming flower of bullseyes. Perfection at any cost; anything else was failure, and failure wasn’t acceptable. 

Masao was drawn from the depths of his mind by the blowing of an alarm horn. He broke into a run towards the armory, scooping up a collection of arrows and stuffing them into the slots of his quiver. He ran for the walls, only stopping when he saw flames being launched and soldiers advancing. Inside the courtyard.

He unslung his bow and pulled out an arrow. He nocked it and peered into the darkness, watching as two figures danced through the flames of the garrison and raced towards the wall. One figure was easy to pick out. Bright yellow and orange clothes with pale skin and a blue arrow running down a bald scalp. So, that was what the Avatar looked like. A near-perfect target.

It took Masao a second to spot the second. They were dressed in black from head to toe, save for something on the front of what he determined was the figure’s head. A quiver of arrows was strapped to the small of their back and a sword slung over their back. When they turned, Masao saw a blue, demonic mask bearing a fang-filled grin.

Masao drew back the arrow, aiming for the masked figure. The Avatar was only throwing out bursts of air, while the figure appeared to have a shortbow in their grip. Plus, Zhao would want the Avatar alive. The obvious target. As he pulled back fully, something caught his eye. 

In the light of a passing fireball drew his attention to the figure’s bow. It was a simple recurve shortbow made of black wood, golden inlays along the limbs catching the light of the fire. He fell short of full draw, his face screwing up in an attempt to get a better view. He recognized that inlaid filigree; he knew that style of bow. More importantly, he knew who that bow belonged to.

~~~+~~~+~~~

The Imperial Palace was a sprawling complex. Beyond the main building, housing the Throne Room and Quarters of the Royal Family, there were servants' quarters, kitchens, stables, guards barracks, a chamber for Performances or Agni Kais, a lush garden, and a training ground for both firebending and martial weapons. It was at this last one that Masao had sought refuge.

Like many days where he wasn’t expected to be in school or attending a private lesson, he had come to the Palace to see Ty Lee and, more prominently, Azula. While those two had met at the Royal Fire Academy for Girls, he’d met Azula at a party, and she’d decided he was her friend. His parents, eager to get close to the Royal Family, allowed it, and so here he was. 

Azula was a lot of things. At the moment, the most prominent was competitive. Ty Lee had, idiotically, suggested Hide and Seek when they’d grown tired of board games. She’d adopted her typical, savage grin, and started counting before either of them had agreed. Masao was also many things, but he liked to think that stupid wasn’t one of them. 

And so he was in the training ground, looking for a good place to wait out the absolute chaos that was Azula on the warpath. There weren’t any guards to rat him out, and plenty of armor racks he could squeeze into to hide. In fact, there wasn’t anyone, the whole yard being almost completely abandoned.

Well, not entirely, as he learned when he heard a frustrated grunt from a nearby archery range. Peeking around the corner, he saw another kid standing in one of the marked points before the targets. A stand filled with arrows stood next to her, while she nocked and pulled back an arrow in an intricately engraved and filigreed bow.

Her form was, frankly, terrible. He wasn’t all that surprised when the arrow flew off to the side, barely even nicking the target in front of her. This time, she growled, tossing the bow onto the ground and reaching up to rake her nails through her long ponytail. He vaguely recognized her as Azula’s older sister, though her name escaped him for a moment.

Lifting up her head, she saw him, going stiff as a statue. He, in turn, did the same, both of them locking eyes, cheeks flush with mutual embarrassment. “Uh… Hey,” she said, letting her hands fall to her sides awkwardly. “Y-you’re, uh, Azula’s friend. Mai, right?”

“Masao,” he said. “Mai’s a girl’s name.”

“Sorry,” she said. She shifted nervously, a hand coming up behind her back as she finally managed to avert his gaze. Combined with that soft smile, the position was… really cute. “Uh… What are you doing out here?”

“We’re playing Hide and Seek,” Masao said. “Figured there wouldn’t be anyone here.”

“Normally, you’d be right,” she said. She reached down slowly, retrieving the bow from the ground. “Uh… It’s just me. I can help you hide, if you want.”

“Why are you out here?” he asked. 

She said, a bit too quickly, “Practicing.”

“With a bow?” he asked. “I thought all members of the Royal Family could bend.”

“I… I can,” she said, pulling out another arrow. “I… I’m just not good. My uncle’s talking to a friend of his to see if I can learn sword fighting, but…” She stopped talking, nocking the arrow and pulling back. Much closer to her, he could spot even more issues with how she was shooting, standing out as almost glaringly obvious. He’d have been chewed out if he’d dared shoot that sloppily around his parents.

So, it really wasn’t a surprise when the arrow missed completely. It shot past the target, snapping against the far wall. She let out another frustrated cry, though at least she didn’t throw the bow again. “Come on. Why can’t I get this?”

“You’re too stiff,” Masao said, walking over to her. She looked up, eyes narrowed in a look that could either be suspicion or confusion. “The pressure is throwing you off. Relax a little bit, especially around your palm. Keep a good grip, but not too tight.”

“How do you know?” she asked. 

He shrugged. His parents had decided that, with his lanky build and good eyesight, the best way to make an impact outside of his friendship with Azula was to join the Yuyan Archers. It was a prestigious unit, and becoming a member would increase his standing and the standing of his family amongst the court. “My parents hired a tutor to teach me.”

“Oh,” she said. She really was awkward, wasn’t she? Maybe she didn’t get out that much; he hadn’t heard that much about her from Azula or his parents. She probably didn’t have many friends. 

She pulled back on the bowstring, taking into account his advice. “No,” he said, stepping around and, without asking, grabbing her arm and back. “Relax your whole body.”

“H-hey,” she protested. “What are you-”

“Do you want to be good?” he asked. She flushed red as her tunic, but nodded. “Then let me help you.”

“... Alright.”

“Alright,” he said back. “Now-”

Before he could continue his instruction, a ball of fire flew above them, igniting the distant target. Both of them yelped, falling backwards as they tripped over one another’s boots and ended up with the Princess falling into his arms. It was like a moment out of a romance scroll, except they were both freaked out and blushing like crazy.

Amused cackling came from the roof above them, drawing their attention up to a lounging Azula. “Well, well, well,” she said, grinning evilly down at them. “Clever kitten-dog, Masao. Hiding with my boring, screw up sister should’ve worked.”

Her face burning red, she pulled herself off of Masao and glared up at her younger sister. “Cut it out, Azula!”

“I mean, really,” Azula said, standing up and stretching. “I normally would’ve overlooked you playing with your crutches. The only reason I came over here was the off-chance that Masao was hiding in the armory. And I was right.” She said the last part in a sing-song voice, crossing her hands behind her back and leaning forward innocently. “I still have to go find Ty Lee, but if you want to play with the screw-up, Masao, feel free!” With that, she beamed and skipped across the roof, disappearing out of sight. 

“You alright?” Masao asked after the few moments it took to indicate she wouldn’t be coming back. 

Instead of answering, she threw down the bow and sighed, slumping against a nearby tree and burying her face in her hands. She began to quiver and shake, shuddering breaths arcing through her as she just sat in its shade. It took Masao a moment to realize she was crying. He grabbed the bow, brushing off the dust clinging to the fine lacquered limbs, and walked over to her.

“Are… are you alright?” he asked.

She continued to sob, though she looked up to meet his eyes. As soon as they did, she averted them, curling her knees up to her chest and resting her head on them. “I… S-she wa-as r-right!” she wailed. “I-I-I’m a t-terrib-ble b-bender, s-so I ha-ave to… U-use t-the-ese wea-pons b-b-because I-I ca-an’t bend! I…” She pressed her eyes back into her knees, twin pools of wet fabric spreading out from the spot on her knees.

Masao… for once, didn’t know what to say. He knew what he was supposed to say in almost every situation he found himself in, and if he didn’t, then he had to change it back to something he knew. That was what his parents said, at least. But comforting a crying girl? How did you do that?

Default to what he knew. That was what he was supposed to do when he didn’t know something, so that’s what he did. “So be the best at them,” he said, offering her the bow. She looked up, puffy rings around her eyes and twin streams of teardrops running down her pale cheeks. “If you have to use weapons, be better at them than anyone else. You’d be better than Azula, at least.”

That earned a grin from her and she wiped away her tears and snot on her sleeve. She stood up, taking the bow back from him. She tightened her finger guards as they walked back towards the range, moving past the ash-caked target to find a new one on another strip. She pulled out an arrow, nocking it while Masao once again stepped behind her. This time, as he grabbed her wrist and lower back, there was now jerking resistance. Instead, she almost leaned into the hold, allowing him to adjust her posture into a better stance. “Keep both eyes open,” he said. “At this distance, it doesn’t matter. Breathe slowly, and let out the shot on an exhale. Yes, like that. Now, let go all at once.” She sucked in a deep breath, holding it for several moments as she pulled back the bowstring to its full length. “Now!”

The arrow flew, this time sailing in a relatively clean arc. He still would’ve been silently criticised for the shot, but it was more than acceptable. Especially as that perfect arc ended up with the arrow slamming into the target, just a few inches from the bullseye. “I did it!” she cried, throwing her hands into the air and nearly braining him with the curved limb. “I did it, I did it!”

“Yep,” he said. “Now do it again. Practice makes perfect.”

“Right,” she said, eagerly retrieving an arrow.

As she slid the arrow onto the bowstring, a thought occurred to him. “Hey, uh… I never got your name.” She looked back at him, and her face was red. Instead of flushing completely with embarrassment or being puffy with tears, it was only a faint, almost ethereal glow to her cheeks. She smiled softly with that warm, lovely smile, and told him. 

~~~+~~~+~~~

Zura. Zura, the firstborn of Fire Lord Ozai. Zura, Azula’s older sister and the butt of her cruelest pranks. Zura, the burned and banished royal tasked with hunting for the Avatar. Zura, who was apparently, also the Blue Spirit. 

Masao just stared, loosening his grip and allowing his bowstring to slacken. Just what was she doing? This was objectively treason, undermining the Fire Nation by helping one of its most potent enemies escape captivity. Why would she-

-Zhao. The answer came to him as he saw the Admiral race into the courtyard, barking orders to his soldiers as they joined the garrison in attempting to surround the Avatar. If Zhao took the Avatar back to the Home Isles, then Zura wouldn’t be the one to accomplish her quest. She would never be allowed to come home having failed a mission from the Firelord. 

As he watched, he saw Zura roll under a fireball, firing an arrow at the source of the fire. She rose back to her feet, drawing and firing off two more arrows in rapid succession. She’d improved since he’d last seen her, both in terms of speed and accuracy. He would’ve been impressed if he didn’t have to stop her.

He rewrapped is fingers around the bowstring, pulling back to full draw and aiming at Zura. Once again, however, he stopped. Masao grit his teeth, his arm burning from pulling back the bowstring. At the same time, something burned in his chest. Pulses of flame beating in time with the beating of his heart.

Everything that had been drilled into him said that he should fire, aiming for the rogue princess. If there was ever a chance to prove himself, it was now. If he stopped the escape of the Avatar, or even helped capture an accomplice, he’d be recognized for his achievement. He’d be surely put into a combat posting, maybe even given a commission. His standing in the social standing of the Fire Nation nobility would increase, as would that of his family. It was everything he’d been taught to value.

And yet, he couldn’t loose the shot. His grip began to waver, fingers starting to bite into the taunt bow even with the leather finger guards. This… this was different. He ignored the question in his father’s voice, asking how it was different than any other task he had to complete. It just was. He shifted his aim ever so slightly, finally letting go and sending the arrow flying.

It embedded itself in the stone of the courtyard just in front of Zura, quivering slightly. Close enough to appear as if he’d been aiming for her. Far enough away that he didn’t risk accidentally hitting her. In short, a perfect shot.

She ducked under another fireball, loosing an arrow of her own before turning to look at him. They were too far away to make out firm details, but Masao could swear their eyes met, the two shades of brownish-gold locking for just a moment. It was enough. As Masao drew out another arrow, the two of them scaled the wall and were out of sight.

He sighed, pulling the arrow off of the bowstring and resheathing it. Even if he wasn’t on board with the objective, he still had to follow after them to make it seem like he was. That was fine, though. He was used to doing things he rather wouldn’t because he was expected to. Again, that was fine. He’d done something that was his choice for once.

It felt… nice.

Chapter Text

The next time that Masao saw her was in Ba Sing Se.

He’d never expected to enter the city. Of course, he’d heard of plans to take the city, but it never really seemed possible. If the Dragon of the West couldn’t take it after six hundred days, what hope would some other officer have to take it? Of course, Azula was no other officer, and so he really shouldn't have been surprised. 

The Dai Li were preparing to bring down the wall tomorrow morning, while Fire Nation troops were massing just outside. The garrison had been locked in their barracks and the Palace Guard had been incapacitated, leaving no obstacle to their conquest of the city. It was a master stroke, one that he was attached to. His parents would definitely be happy with that.

As Azula was working out some details with Long Feng about the upcoming occupation, Masao had slipped away to look around. Being disguised as a Kyoshi Warrior was the most uncomfortable experience in his life, not to mention the most emasculating. Of course, you didn’t say that to Azula; complaining never got him anywhere. So just being able to walk around in proper robes, even if they were a distasteful shade of green, was nice.

He almost didn’t recognize her, even after almost running her over. With the flowing brown robe and hair tied back in an Earth-Kingdom style bun, he thought she was a servant. After a moment, his frown deepened as he noticed the massive, rippling burn scar that marred half of the young woman’s face. “Zura?”

It seemed she hadn’t realized who he was either, as she froze at the question. “Masao?” The two of them locked eyes, taking in one another properly for the first time since her exile.

She was… beautiful. Even with the harsh scar, her face appeared like it was expertly carved from stone. Smooth and yet possessing a dangerous curve to it, which combined with the slight tan she’d acquired to give her a refined yet dangerous appearance. Her black hair was longer than even before her exile, a look which suited her even if the Earth Kingdom style looked off on her. The same went for that long brown robe, which just looked wrong on her despite the way it complimented her toned physique.

She spent that moment taking him in as well, though managed to keep her cool. “It’s, uh… Been a long time.”

Masao shrugged. “Not really.”

She nodded, looking over her shoulder. “M-maybe don’t talk about that in here. Or, in general, really.”

“Fair enough,” he said, shrugging. “What are you doing?”

“What are you?”

“Azula’s busy with Long Feng, and I decided to get away from that creep,” Masao said. “Now, stop deflecting.”

Zura sighed, a slump falling on her shoulders. “I’m… I’ve got some things at where my Uncle and I had been staying. I was going to go get them.” She straightened a little bit, giving him a small smile. “Needed to clear my head, anyway.”

“I’ll come with you,” Masao said. That made her smile vanish, looking at him as if he had just proposed assassinating Azula. “Some fresh air would do me good. Well, as fresh as it can get in this place.”

“Alright,” Zura said, gesturing for him to follow her. “It-it’s not far.”

~~~+~~~+~~~

Ba Sing Se was distinctly different from the Caldera, and it went beyond just the fact everything was green instead of red. The architecture was lower to the ground and more angular, being stone instead of wood. It wasn’t as well lit, even in the upper ring. The people were dressed in styles that hadn’t been popular amongst the nobility in at least a decade, and there were way more of them too.

“How did you live like this?” Masao asked, ducking around yet another person who seemed stubbornly insistent about not moving out of the way.

“You get used to it,” Zura said, doing the same. “Don’t worry. It’s not too far.”

“You said that fifteen minutes ago,” Masao said.

Zura shrugged, eyes focusing on the crowded street in front of them. That was what was different about her, he decided. Beyond the obvious change in her appearance from the years in exile and the scar, it was how she carried herself. Before, her posture was almost unnaturally stiff and her shoulders had been squared back. It was almost like she’d been trying to carry herself like a soldier and a lady of the court at the same time. Now, she had relaxed, her back looser and even slightly slouched. Yet there was an alertness to that as well, her eyes subconcioiusly scanning the crowd.

Soon, their trudge through the crowd ended with them breaking off into a small and, thankfully, deserted square. On the far end was another one of those low, white-washed and green-roofed buildings that had dominated the upper ring. However, it stood out from the dragon motif ringing the roof and the unlit lanterns that hung between the pillars. “The Jasmine Dragon?” he asked, reading the sign just above the door.

“We… My Uncle and I, I mean…” Zura said, grabbing both hands and scraping her palms together. “We found work in the lower ring at this tea shop. Pao’s. He was really good, so this merchant funded a shop up here.”

“You? Worked? In a tea shop?” Masao asked. Zura was always hands-on. It was part of her charm, being more than willing to get her hands dirty. And yet the thought of her working in a tea shop was simultaneously inconceivable and quite funny.

Zura sighed. “It… it wasn’t bad. When you get used to it.”

“You had to get used to a lot, huh?”

This time, she laughed. His heart fluttered at the noise. How long had it been since he’d seen her soft smile, let alone heard her little laugh? “More than you know.” She looked up at the Jasmine Dragon, or maybe at the sight of the Palace Walls beyond it, and her eyes went misty. 

“Lien?”

Masao whirled around, a hand instinctively going for the dagger he’d tucked into his robe. The girl who had somehow snuck up behind them yelped in surprise, taking a large step back and holding up her hands. “Sorry!” she squeaked, her brown eyes wide with alarm. 

“Jin?” Zura asked, stepping around Masao and grabbing his arm. He took a moment to appraise the newcomer. Shaggy brown hair in a messy ponytail. Simple green robe, albeit one that was less extravagant than the other’s he’d seen in the Upper Ring. Even with the baggy clothing, clearly unarmed. He let her force the dagger back out of sight. “What are you doing here?”

“I… I was just coming by to check up on you, and everyone said that your place had been closed all day!” Jin said. “Lien, what’s going on! And who’s this?” She pointed to Masao, glaring at him. He returned the look easily. 

Zura bit her lip, looking between Masao and Jin as if either would give her the answer. When she looked at him, Masao just shrugged. He didn’t know what was going on, so why should he get her out of whatever mess she was in?

“This is… Mao,” she said eventually, gesturing to Masao. “He… S-something happened… w-with… with the ovens! Yeah, s-so my Uncle and I are staying with him while it’s getting fixed. I’m just getting some things.”

“Oh,” Jin said. “Ok.” She now apparently took the time to properly look at him, eyes scanning up and down him. Masao crossed his arms, returning her stare. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced.” She held out a hand to him, her scrutiny broken by a small smile. “I’m Jin. It’s nice to meet you.”

“You just got my name,” Masao said, but took her hand and shook it. For how small the girl was, she had a grip of steel. “And I just arrived in the city.”

“From where?” Jin asked. Ah, it was back. Her smile remained, but the look in her eyes was firm and analytical. Of course, he was used to much the same, and knew not to give anything away. Never give anything away.

Fortunately, Zura came to his rescue. “He’s from t-the circus I told you about!” … In a manner of speaking. “He’s the trick shooter.”

“Really?” Jin asked.

Masao shrugged. “I’m alright with a bow.”

“Better than Lien can juggle, I hope,” Jin said, giggling into her baggy sleeve. Masao shifted his gaze to Zura, who flushed under his sideeye. 

“You have a bow, Lien?” he asked.

Zura shrugged. “I-I mean, yeah. Why?”

“Might as well show off a little bit,” Masao said, rolling his shoulders. “I’m a bit out of practice anyway.” When it came to trick-shooting, at least. He’d been landing bullseyes on the Kyoshi Warriors and during his routine practice, but that was different from fancy shots.

The inside of the Jasmine Dragon was dark, lit only by the faint moonlight coming in through the open door. After Zura lit one of the lanterns with a pair of spark rocks, the lavishly decorated interior became visible to them. Engraved tables and chairs filled the room, the latter stacked on top of the former to create wide open avenues throughout the main floor. The stone pillars were likewise well decorated, detailed images of twisting dragons dancing across their smoothly polished surfaces. Green and gold tapestries covered the walls, save for the on furthest from the entrance. There was a large, open kitchen separated from the main floor by a stone counter.

Another flame flared to life, Zura holding up the lantern. Her face was cast in shadows, her scar appearing almost like a black smear on her face. “I’ll go get my things. Uh… Play nice?” She stood their awkwardly for several moments, both him and Jin looking at her. She fiddled with the sleeve of her robe, before turning on her heels and making for the stairs.

Once she disappeared from sight, the two of them stared at one another over the flickering lantern light. Masao folded his arms, leaning against one of the tables as Jin crossed her hands behind her back. “So,” he ventured. “You know… Lien?”

“We met in the lower ring,” Jin said. “Her Uncle? Mushi?” Masao had to force down a snort at the name the old Dragon had been given. “He worked at Pao’s Teahouse, and so did she. She seemed lonely, so I invited her out.”

“What?” Masao asked. “Like a date?”

Jin giggled again, though there was less mirth in her voice now. “No no. Just friends. Like I said, she was lonely.”

Masao shrugged. “She’s never had many friends.”

“Except you?”

That caught him off guard. He’d… Well, he’d never put that much thought into it before. Sure, they’d been pretty close when they were younger. He’d helped her with her archery, and she’d been an ear and shoulder he could lean on. It was… nice. But he’d never really considered her a friend. Azula was his friend, Zura was… something else. He wasn’t sure, really. 

“Is that what she said?” he asked. 

Jin nodded. “When she talked about her time in the circus, she said you and her were close. More than that, really.” Masao blinked. He… did she feel that way about him? She continued, “Look, she was a bit cagey. I don’t want to pry. I just want to make sure you’re not going to hurt my friend.”

“If I was going to, I wouldn’t be here,” he said.

Jin shifted her weight from foot to foot, frowning. “Fair enough,” she said, slowly and deliberately as if tasting the word. She really would belong in the upper court. She couldn’t hold a flat expression, but her prying would certainly make her useful amongst the den of vipers that was the nobility. He could see why Zura liked her, or at least tolerated her enough to spend time with her.

Zura came down the stairs, the light from her lantern rejoining the one between himself and Jin. She had a bundled cloth hanging form one shoulder. Just another reminder of her time on the road as a refugee. In the other she held… not her bow. It was the same style, short and with a prominent recurve. But instead of the fancy inlay and black laquering, it was plain, undecorated horn.

She handed him the bow, placing a trio of similarly plain arrows on the table next to him. “Here. Have at it.”

Masao rolled his eyes, but flexed his shoulders as he took the bow from her. “Mind getting me a plate or something?” While Zura complied with his request, he slipped a leg through the bow and grabbed ahold of the bowstring. Pressing down on the frame and pulling on the string with the other, he strung the bow without much effort.

She returned with a small ceramic plate which, like everything, was decorated with green dragons. Grabbing the three arrows, he quickly nocked all three, hefting the plate with the other hand. Lightweight, not particularly sturdy. He’d have to be more careful than he thought. Still, backing down was a weakness, and he wasn’t weak. He swung back his arm, and threw it into the air. 

~~~+~~~+~~~

“Showoff,” Zura muttered as she adjusted the sack on her shoulder.

Masao shrugged. “She wanted to see more.”

“Still a showoff,” Zura said, smirking. Masao allowed himself a small smile. As it had gotten a lot later, they were the only ones out on the street. Well, except for the pair of Dai Li agents following them from the rooftops, but they didn’t count. So he was allowed to relax a little bit.

Just being around her was bringing back old memories, and those also helped him relax. He just wished he had a fountain to trip her into. “What are you smiling about?”

“Huh?” he asked, turning back to look at her. She was smiling properly now, that same soft smile he had adored as a child.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you smile before,” Zura teased. “I didn’t know you could."

Masao rolled his eyes. “I have. You’re just too dull to prompt it.”

“You know that isn’t true,” Zura said, still smiling.

“Maybe,” he said. “Maybe not.” He considered what to say, wondering exactly what he was supposed to do. Oh, sure, his parents had instructed him as to what he was supposed to do while courting someone. But this wasn’t just some random girl they arranged for him; his was Zura.

As they walked, he watched in real time as her smile faded. “You ok?”

“No,” Zura said, though her back went stiff a moment later. “I mean, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” She was lying. “I’m going home. I’ve… I’ve gotten everything I wanted.” Definitely lying. But he wasn’t one to pry. He simply nodded and kept walking, the entrance to the palace slowly coming into sight. “I just… I’m going home. Without Uncle.”

“He betrayed you, your family, and the Fire Nation,” Masao pointed out. “I mean, it wouldn’t end any other way. At least he’s alive.”

“Yeah,” Zura said, sighing. “I just… It feels like I’m going to be going home alone.”

“Not alone,” Masao said, stepping a bit closer. He wrapped an arm over her shoulder, loose save for the tight grip he secured around her shoulder. Sure, Zura wasn’t some random match for him, but he could still do what was expected of him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Really?” she asked. Her voice was soft, highlighting her raspy voice. It was sweet, combining with her scar and the corded muscle he could feel in her arms to create a firm yet alluring form. A firm yet alluring person. 

“Yeah,” Masao said. Once again, he allowed that small smile to crack through his mask. “I… I don’t hate you.”

Zura giggled and leaned into his grip. “I don’t hate you either.”

Chapter Text

Masao had heard a lot of things about Ember Island. Both before he’d arrived and from Azula and Zura’s great-aunts at their tiny beach home. So far, he wasn’t all that impressed.

Sure, there were beaches and lots of sun, but you could find that anywhere in the Fire Nation. “Smooth out your rough edges” his numb fingers. Still, a chance to simply do nothing wasn’t something he was in the mood to pass up.

Zura, on the other hand, was obviously upset. She’d been on edge ever since coming back to the Fire Nation. At first, he thought it was just nerves about being home after so long and concern about her father. But since returning, weeks had passed and those fears had lessened. There wasn’t anything she should be upset about, so why was she still so snappy?

Masao made his way back to the towel laid out on the beach. Numerous other teenagers were around them, chatting or building in the sand or playing games or whatever. Ty Lee was lounging around and being waited on hand and foot by a group of lovestruck boys, while Azula was chatting up a group of kids playing ball. It was just him and Zura. At least, it would have been, if Zura was at the towel where he’d left her. 

He blinked, staring at the empty towel beneath the simple umbrella for several long seconds. He looked up, eyes narrowed as he scanned the beach. Ty Lee was still being crowded by shirtless guys and Azula was still talking stiffly to that other shirtless guy. Still, everywhere he looked, he caught no sight of her. 

He turned to look back at the towel just as Zura was returning, a pair of ice cream cones in her hands. Despite the blank expression he kept on his face, he couldn’t help but marvel at her. She was clad in a loose skirt and tight-fitting top, which both revealed and concealed her lithe yet muscular form. In a word, she was certainly the most alluring woman Masao had seen.

“Where were you?” he asked. 

Zura shrugged. “I got tired waiting for you to come back. Where did you go, anyway?”

Masao brought up the bleached white shell he had procured at a nearby market stall. The inside, when turned up to face the sun, sparkled like diamonds. “For you.”

She leaned forward to examine it, her nose wrinkling as she looked into the sparkling interior. “What am I supposed to do with it?” … That part Masao hadn’t thought of. It was just part of what he was supposed to do as a boyfriend. Give his girlfriend gifts and whatnot. He simply shrugged. 

Zura sighed, shaking her head. “Right, well. Here.” She angled one of the ice cream cones towards him. Before he could reach up to take the cone, the ice cream tumbled off the cone and onto his foot. He could practically feel the sticky substance melting and seeping into the sand around his foot.

“How… refreshing,” he said, once again looking up at Zura. The two of them locked gazes, this time lacking the warmth and understanding from Ba Sing Se. Instead, there was a frustration. He could just tell from the way she held herself, bringing her now free hand up to her hips and the twist in her lips. It was obvious to him, and he had a feeling that his was obvious to her as well.

Fortunately, Azula called them over, the sly grin on her face indicating she was in a competitive mode. He threw the shell into the sand, and it landed right next to the ice cream she likewise discarded. The two of them exchanged one last glare and frown before trudging across the sand toward the ball court. 

~~~+~~~+~~~

Azula got them invited to a party with the son of Admiral Chan. Masao had met the man during a party that his father had arranged. A stern, serious man who would definitely wouldn’t have approved of this kind of gathering. The kind with the music and the big table of unhealthy food and the dancing. If Masao had held this kind of party… Well, he wasn’t that stupid.

As it was, he was just standing on the side of the party, arms crossed and watching the proceedings. Was this what other kids did? Just make fools of themselves and act like animals around each other? He could understand the appeal intellectually, but beyond that, it was just weird. That disconnect kept him from moving from that corner, save for retrieving a plate of egg rolls.

“Hey big guy,” a voice said from behind him. Turning around, he saw a pair of girls coming up to him, swaying their hips and smiling warmly. His frown deepened, even as one grabbed ahold of his arm. “You were looking a bit lonely standing with scowly over there. Want some proper company?”

He looked over to the corner, where Zura was standing. One of the host's friends had come up to her, pressing one hand against the wall and talking with Zura. He couldn’t hear what was said over the din of the party, but Zura was just wearing the same scowl she’d been wearing whenever the two of them weren’t trying to placate the other. She’d be fine.

Looking back at the girls, he said, “I’m fine.”

He brushed them off, stepping around them and heading back towards the corner. He arrived just as Zura punched the guy in the stomach.

“Was that necessary?” Masao asked.

Zura shoved the groaning boy away with her foot before turning to glare at him. “Where were you?”

“I was hungry,” Masao said, hefting the plate. “I figured you could handle being on your own for a few minutes.”

The boy looked up, his own face contorted in anger. “What the hell!? I was just trying to be nice!”

“That generally doesn’t result in you getting punched in the gut,” Masao noted.

He turned his glare towards Masao, rising out of his slump, and flexed his arms. He puffed himself up, trying to look as big as possible. Masao’s baby brother could be more intimidating. “I don’t think this concerns you, buddy.”

Masao shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not.” He set the plate down, rolling his shoulders. Subtly wouldn’t work on someone like this. So, implied threats it was. It worked, the boy glaring at him, then Zura, before letting out a huff and storming off into the crowd.

“You ok?” he asked after picking back up the plate.

Zura huffed and folded her arms. “Yeah.”

The two of them stood in silence for several moments. Well, as silent as one could get in a place like this. He offered her the plate, but she just shook her head and glared ahead. “What did he say?” Masao asked.

Zura looked over at him, her expression almost unreadable. “Why? Going to do something about it?”

“I don’t know,” Masao said. “I don’t know what he said.”

Zura let out a noise that was almost a growl, gripping a nearby table so hard her fingers went white on the wood. Masao sighed, setting down the plate and once again turning to her. “What’s gotten into you?”

“What?” Zura snapped. “What’s gotten into me? What’s gotten into you!? It’s like you’re just doing the bare minimum!”

Masao glowered at Zura. Of course he was doing what he was supposed to. Why wouldn’t he? It was his duty as a boyfriend to her; she was a Princess, she should understand that. “And what about you? You’ve been so angry lately. Lashing out at everything!”

“At least I act like I care!” Zura scowled. “You’re just… a blah!”

“That’s it,” Masao said. “Just… We’re done!” The two of them glared at one another, arms crossed and eyes narrowed into piercing slits. If looks could kill, they’d both be lifeless bodies. At least until Chan came over, yelling at Zura for attacking his friend. She looked at Masao almost expectantly, as if she still expected him to stand up for her. Oh, but he was just doing the bare minimum. He just looked at her, eventually shaking his head and turning away. 

~~~+~~~+~~~

“She… called you a slut?” Masao asked. 

Ty Lee sputtered, coming to a brief stop. “N-no! At least, not like that.”

“She called you loose,” Masao said. “That sounds like calling you a slut.”

“She was nervous!” Ty Lee insisted. “She can’t really talk to people without it being a threat or an order. It’s a girl thing; you wouldn’t get it.”

Considering the whole situation going on with Zura, he didn’t think he got girls in general. Hell, people confused him. Still, he shrugged non-committally and continued to follow Ty Lee down the beach.

After a few more minutes of walking, they found Azula and Zura. The two of them were walking down from the towering old beach house that belonged to their family. As she approached, Zura’s expression softened. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he said back, crossing his arms over his chest. His eyes narrowed as she took a step closer, holding out a hand to him. She lowered her hand, shivering. “Cold?”

“Oh, now you care?” Zura snapped, before sighing. “Sorry. Yeah.”

“Me too,” Ty Lee said.

Azula shrugged, while Masao didn’t react at all. Sure, it was starting to get a little bit chilly with winds blowing off of the sea. Still, it wasn’t that bad, so he didn’t say anything. Still, Zura offered to start a fire, to which the others agreed.

The fuel for the fire was mostly old paintings Zura had pulled down from the beach house. She went inside, came back out five minutes later with an armful of them, and just set them ablaze. More were thrown on the fire quickly, and soon the fire flickered steadily. Ty Lee protested, but Zura ignored her.

“I don’t care,” she snapped.

Ty Lee frowned, looking at Zura like when she tried to read his ‘aura’. “You do.” And just like him, she dismissed it.

Masao just sat there, staring at the fire and barely listening to what was said. He interjected when Zura called Ty Lee a freak, but Ty Lee didn’t need defending. None of them did, so why did they act like he was expected to… Because he was, of course. He was expected to be so many things.

“That why you need so many boyfriends too, eh?” he asked. Ty Lee’s furious gaze shifted from the cowed Zura to him, her hands balling into fists.

“What?”

Masao shrugged. “Attention issues. No matter what, any eyes on you are good eyes, right? You didn’t have enough of it when you were a kid, so you’re trying to make up for it now.”

“And what’s your excuse?” Ty Lee asked. “Y-you were an only child for fifteen years. Heck, you were personally introduced to me and Azula even though you didn’t go to our school. And yet your aura is still so grey and dingy and-”

“You know I don’t believe in that crap,” Masao said, folding his arms behind his head and gazing up at the stars. They twinkled high above, some flaring and dying just like the fire they were all sitting around. 

“Yeah,” Zura said. “You don’t believe in anything. You just… do what you're told like a good little kitten-pup.”

“Someone has to be sane around you lot,” Masao said. “Might as well be me.”

Azula leaned forward, propping her head on her hand. “Hey, I’m plenty sane. And besides, Zura here has always been so high-strung. I think she almost prefers people would be like her.”

“So what?”

Zura rubbed her thumb in the crook of her pointer finger, staring at some spot between the roaring fire and the sand. “It’s better than just keeping it all bottled up.”

“Oh, what are you expecting?” Masao stood up, leaning forward on his knees to glare at each of them in turn. “Me to go into some big story about how hard my life has been? Well, comparatively speaking,” he focused his gaze pointedly on Zura as he said that, “My life has been pretty good.”

He held up his hands, studying them closely. They were perfectly manicured, the callouses from long hours - long years - of training faded in on the pale skin. “I was a rich only kid who got the best. The best tutors, the best food, the best toys, the best clothes and opportunities…” He closed his hands, running a finger along a long, thin line of raised scar tissue along his inner forearm. “So long as I performed. Did what I was told, and did it well. My father’s career was important, and I was important to that. Why the hell would they mistreat me?”

“So that’s why you’re so, as my sister so eloquently put it, blah,” Azula said. “You were shut down whenever you didn’t do whatever your parents told you and performed at your peak. So, you shut down everything else.”

“Since when did you become a mind healer, Princess?” Masao questioned. He stood, throwing out his hands and meeting the eyes of his earst-while superior. “Fine. You want me to turn everything back on? Leave me alone!”

Zura had stood up, moving closer from his periphery. “I… I like it when you express yourself.”

“Don’t touch me,” he said, knocking away her outstretched hand. “I’m still mad at you. Me being like this isn’t any excuse for how you’ve acted today.”

“Things have been hard for me too, Masao,” Zura said. 

Masao couldn’t resist sneering. “Oh, like that matters.” He sighed, dropping his glare and hanging his head. “I… I do care, Zura. What’s going on? You weren’t like this in Ba Sing Se?”

“If I knew, don’t you think I’d say something?” Zura snapped.

“You never did before,” Masao said. “Something’s been bothering you all day. Heck, I can think of things that have been bothering you all week. You tell me to open up about things, but I asked, and you said you were fine.”

“Hey now,” Ty Lee interjected, holding out her hands in a placating gesture. “Let’s all calm down. All this negative energy isn’t good for you. You’ll break out. Badly.”

“Breaking out?” Zura said, letting out a humorless laugh. “I wish I had to worry about bad skin. Normal teenagers have to worry about that!”

“Then what is it?” Azula questioned. “What are you so upset about? You’ve gotten everything you could have ever wanted, right?”

“Yes!” Zura said. “That’s exactly it! I’ve gotten everything I ever wanted. I’m back home. Father has acknowledged me for the first time in years. I’ve gotten back my position. I…” she looked back at him, a familiar line of crimson tracing her features. “I’ve been closer to… you. A-and yet, I’ve been more angry than ever! I shouldn’t be, but I am!”

The three friends exchanged looks, and they all came to a silent agreement that they would press her on it. They all did it for different reasons. Azula was smugly grinning, excited at pushing her big sister's buttons. Ty Lee was frowning and watching Zura almost analytically, wanting to legitimately help her. And Masao? 

Well, he did care. Zura was… Well, he liked her. He liked how she was so unlike him. She was open and expressive where he wasn’t. She was impulsive and stubborn; when she set herself to something, she would do it. She had broken into Pouhai Stronghold to rescue the Avatar because she had to be the one to bring him back, for Agni’s sake! And she could be kind, too. She cared, about the Turtleducks and the peasants and… and him. She was the reason he had missed that shot when escaping from the Yuyan and Zhao’s troops. 

And so, he joined in their questioning, trying to gauge what was upsetting her. They asked about whatever they could think of. Her Father, her Uncle, Azula; all responded to negatively. Heck, Masao even suggested that she might be on her period, which earned him a murderous glare from each of them. Girls were crazy. Still, after much prodding, they got an answer from her: 

“I’M ANGRY AT MYSELF!”

Zura threw out her hands, the flames responding to her call and flaring highly. Ty Lee jumped back in surprise, and even Masao blinked from the sudden blast of light. She slumped onto a stump, all the energy and bravado that had been burning in her throughout the day leaving her at that moment. 

“I… I’m angry at myself. I just… I don’t know what’s right and wrong anymore.”

“Pathetic,” Azula muttered.

Masao stood up, taking a few stiff steps, and knelt down next to her. She looked up as he placed a hand on her shoulder. “I know I care about you.” Zura nodded, leaning in closer. Masao met her halfway, their foreheads pressing against one another in something that wasn’t a kiss but was no less intimate for them.

Of course, Azula had to ruin it. She had a nasty habit of doing that. Of course, after her spiel about being a monster and not carrying, like always, she had her own somewhat twisted way of making up for it. 

~~~+~~~+~~~

The beach house burned quite well. Masao was honestly impressed; must’ve been all the alcohol. Ty Lee had certainly spilled a few bottles during her series of flips and leaps through the interior. Azula smirks evilly as she steps around a sobbing Chan, blue flames whipping out to set the pillars and intricate decorations ablaze. 

He and Zura stepped past him as well kicking over furniture and raising the pair of bows taken from the Royal Beach House. Arrows flew, striking down paintings and sending them cascading into the inferno. As they nocked new arrows, they looked over at each other and smiled.

Leaving the burning building and Chan behind, they threw arms over one another. Their smiles grew ever so slightly. Ty Lee and Azula did the same, the group marching out into the dark.

Chapter Text

He never expected to see her at the Boiling Rock. Of course, he didn’t expect Zura to turn traitor so suddenly and dramatically. Alas, here they were. 

He watched the pair of guards drag her into an interrogation room, Zura struggling all the way. Her hair scattered wildly over her face, parting only briefly in spurts to expose her snarling, scarred face. If it weren’t for him already knowing her, he wouldn’t have assumed she was royalty. Clad in the typical uniform of the prisoners, she looked like a thug or rebel.

Well, she was the latter now. Challenged the Firelord, her father, directly. Swore to aid the Avatar in destroying their country… He clutched the letter she had left him on the day of the Invasion, crumpling the paper.

He let out a breath he didn’t even realize he’d been holding after Zura was dragged inside the interrogation room. What was she thinking? Things were starting to go well again. They had worked out some of their issues and were properly communicating now. Her father had invited her to a War Meeting, showing he trusted her again. She was BACK. So what had spurred this on? Why?

He straightened his back, taking a moment to smooth down his tunic before marching towards the cell. His boots clanged on the metal catwalk, echoing through the cellblock around him. Each step was perfectly timed, coming in a steady rhythm like a war drum. He steeled his face, pulling any emotion from his face as best he could. This wasn’t his Ex-girlfriend. This was a traitor, and he would treat them as such.

“I didn’t do anything wrong!” he heard her call within the room.

Masao had to repress a snort. “Come on, Zura,” he said as he rounded the corner and stood in the doorway of the cell. “We both know that’s a lie.”

The two guards bowed and swiftly left the cell, leaving him alone with Zura. Her shock was evident, posture stiff and face trying (and failing) to return to neutrality. “Masao!” she said, surprise even more prominent in her voice than on her face. She couldn’t look away from him, both eyes as wide as they could go.

Silence fell over the two of them for several moments. He looked her up and down, arms crossed. Try as he might, he couldn’t keep his annoyance out of his expression. Or maybe that was anger. One often went with the other, so it wasn’t like he could tell them apart that well.

“H-how did you find me?” Zura asked after several moments. She at least had the grace to look him in the eye. He wouldn’t have thought she had it in her. 

His eyes narrowed regardless. It wasn’t like she deserved the credit. “Because I know you so well.”

“But, how—”

Masao rolled his eyes. “My uncle is the Warden, you idiot.” His snapped reply seemed to catch her off guard, shutting her up instantly. That only made him scowl deeper. “Although, maybe I don’t know you as well as I thought.”

“I… I didn’t mean to—”

Masao unfolded the letter and shoved it into her face. “A letter. That’s all I get?” A well of emotion, much like when he first found the message, swelled within his chest. Just like then, he swallowed and forced it down. It wouldn’t do him any good. “The least you could have done is tell me to my face when you say everything we had was for nothing.”

“It wasn’t!” Zura cried. “Masao, I love you! But I—”

“So what is it?” Masao said. He twisted the letter around, reading the same characters he had spent hours of his time scanning over and over. “‘Dear Masao. I’m sorry you have to find out this way, but I’m leaving’. What am I supposed to take from that, Zura?”

She hung her head, breaking eye contact. Her body began to quiver ever so slightly, faint sobs welling up in her. Masao stared, thankful that there was no one else present. He… even if he didn’t make any moves, he hated this. Even if she had indirectly said that everything they had shared, everything he had done for her and her for him had been worth nothing, she was still important to him. Seeing her on the verge of tears like this made his chest ache, and despite his efforts, he couldn’t force this wave of emotion down.

“It’s not about you,” Zura said, forcing her words out around warbling sobs. “It’s not about you. I never wanted to hurt you, Masao. It’s about the Fire Nation.”

He sighed, staring at her. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“...No. No, it’s not. But I have to do something.”

Masao shook his head. “No, you don’t! You never did!” He stepped over to her, kneeling in front of her chair and forcing her to look him in the eye. He placed his hand over her, staring into her bleary eyes. “Zura. We were given instructions… Expectations. You specifically were. If you had just followed them, we wouldn’t be here. All this, betraying your country? You didn’t have.”

“You were expected to shoot me,” she said, so softly he almost didn’t hear her. He blinked, flashes of the skirmish at Pouhai flaring through his head. That missed shot; was the only time he had intentionally missed a target. For her. “I know it looks like I’ve turned against the Fire Nation, but I haven’t.”

Before he could ask what exactly that meant, a loud rumbling came from outside. It was faint, but he could make out shouts and what sounded like firebending. A moment later, alarm bells began ringing, sending a cacophony of noise racing down the cell block. “What the…” 

A guard ran into the cell, panting and leaning on the wall. “Sir!” he said. “There’s a riot. The Warden wants you with him.”

“Why?”

“Don’t know, sir. But I have to insist you come with me.”

Masao didn’t even have a chance to reply before he was shoved to the ground. Zura sent out a burst of fire at the guard, sending the man clambering back and opening him up for a punch to his head. Masao sprang to his feet, only for Zura to trip the guard and send him tumbling into Masao, once again knocking him to the floor. “Get off me!” By the time he had thrown the guard off of him, Zura had the slammed the door shut and flipped the lock. 

She stopped at the window, staring through it. Her face was resolute, but he could make out a single tear coming from her scarred eye. He didn’t even know if she could see out of that eye, let alone cry. This time, he was unable to meet her gaze. When he looked again after a moment, she was gone. 

He pressed his forehead against the glass pane, closing his eyes and thinking about what she had said. Agni above, she was an idiot. Even if she didn’t think she had betrayed her country, that was what she did. What was she thinking?

She wasn’t; that was the obvious answer. Just like at Pouhai, breaking in so she could get the Avatar out to capture him herself. If she had followed what was expected of her, she would have let Zhao bring the Avatar back to the Firelord in chains. That would have been the best outcome. Instead, she sabotaged her country. That was what Zura did; march into whatever chaotic mess or near hopeless endevor because she got it into her head that was the right thing to do. 

He… He couldn’t do it. Even as the scrambling guards noticed him and opened his cell, he didn’t immediately take off for the yard where Zura had surely headed. Instead, he pulled out his bow and began to slowly make his way to the gondola. It was the only realistic way out of the Boiling Rock, and surely Zura and whoever was with her knew that. If there was a place where she would be cut off, it would be there. 

For the second time in his life, he was planning on going against what was expected of him. Only this time, it was likely that he was going actually to be punished for it. Zhao was one thing; Azula was another. He only hoped that Zura could complete her plan, and not just die horribly before that could happen. 

~~~+~~~+~~~

She did it. She actually did it. 

He could hardly believe that it was only a few short weeks ago that he betrayed Azula for her. So much had happened in that time, particularly the few days on either end of the coming of Sozin’s Comet. One day, he had been rotting in one of the cells of the Boiling Rock. The next, his uncle had personally let him out, telling him that Ozai had been defeated and Zura was to be crowned Firelord. 

As he moved through the corridors of the Palace, he already noticed a difference. Maybe it was just his own burgeoning optimism, but the lights seemed brighter. The servants spoke more freely as opposed to silencing themselves whenever someone passed. There was a sense of relief in the air, like long-stagnant air being released. 

He was directed towards a distant chamber where the Firelord to be was supposed to be preparing for her coronation. That still sounded wrong, yet right at the same time. He carefully pushed open the door, stepping into the room and watching Zura. 

Agni, she really was beautiful. He had said this to himself numerous times, but this was perhaps the first time it was more than a casual noting. She was clad in the long, flowing robes of Fire Lord with her pulled back into a style reminiscent of the one she wore in Ba Sing Se. Intentional or not, it looked good on her.

He frowned as she winched reaching over her shoulder to pull at one of the small clasps holding the robe in place. He approached on silent feet, stopping behind her and grabbing the clasp. “Let me help you with that,” he said softly, dragging it into her hand.

She instantly let it go, turning around and gazing up at him in stunned amazement. “Masao! You’re ok!”

“Of course I am,” he said, grabbing her hands.

She smiled, warm and inviting. Even though it had been less than a month, he had missed seeing her smile. “They let you out of prison?”

“My Uncle’s the warden, remember?” he asked. She flushed at the comment, bringing a hand up to shield her face. Her arm moved stiffly and he watched her mouth twist as her arm moved sharply inward before relaxing. His eyes narrowed, and he reached out to touch her shoulder. She flinched away from his hand. “You’re hurt.”

“It’s… It’s nothing,” she said.

Masao sighed, shaking his head. “Zura. I stood up to Azula for you. From what I understand, you had to fight Azula for the throne. If you’re hurt, tell me.”

She let out her own sigh, rolling her other shoulder. “It really isn’t that much. Katara healed me up. It’s just… stiff. My arm doesn’t quite respond like it used to.” She smiled again, pushing him lightly on the shoulder. “Looks like you’re going to be well ahead of me for a while.”

“After you do all your Firelord stuff, I’ll help you get back into it,” Masao promised. “Now let me help you.” He stepped around her, running a hand up her arm and letting it rest on her shoulder. Reaching around, he expertly grabbed each loose section of her robes and pulled them together. Clasps were secured and her sash was adjusted to sit properly on her waist instead of hanging loose. 

She grunted as he pulled the robe tight, but otherwise gave no resistance. As he worked, she held her head up straight and back perfectly straight. “I… I take it this means you don’t hate me.”

He paused. “I’m here, so no.” He pulled a bit harder than necessary, earning an alarmed squeak from Zura that sounded all too adorable. “Just don’t break up with me like that again, and we’ll be all good.”

She looked over her shoulder, her cheeks a rosy red and smile inviting. “Alright.” She leaned forward, and he met her lips halfway.