Chapter Text
When Aang tells him there is an imbalance with the spirits, Zuko distinctively remembers he was coronated as Fire Lord. Not Fire-And-Spirit Lord.
Alas, being close friends with the Avatar—the bridge between the Spirit world and theirs—means he'll have to squeeze in a Spirit World Field trip in-between his tightly scheduled meetings.
Also because Zuko is almost certain said imbalance is due to the Fire Nation, which in more ways than one, make it undeniably relevent. At least it'll be more interesting than his upcoming meetings, he thinks wistfully.
"I'm not sure what the problem is, but it's my duty as the Avatar to help!" Besides himself, Zuko smiles. Aang is only thirteen now (well, technically speaking, 113) and he has so much responsibility. Despite the heavy burden to bear, despite the freshly ended war, or the loss of his people, Aang tackles his problems with level-headedness, and that stupid goofy grin Zuko used to despise. It reminds him of himself (not the spirits damned smile), and the crown that sits far too heavy on his head.
"Then I'll join you." He replies sagely, and Aang pumps his fist in the air.
Aang leads him to Appa, and they have to wait approximately two minutes before Appa stops licking Zuko (and Zuko stops petting the beast) before they can mount him.
"Yip yip!"
It takes several days to reach the Eastern Air Temples, but Aang had insisted in order for Zuko to join him, they'd need a suitable mediation spot.
Zuko distantly wonders how Uncle is doing, having to look after the Fire Nation in his place. He wonders if he'll feel as stressed as Zuko does after a mere few days.
Once they arrive, he lets Aang wander off, most likely to pay his respects, as Zuko sits down and settles himself into a full lotus position. He closes his eyes and lets the rays of Agni's light wash over him. His breath follows that of the steadily pulsing inner fire, slow but steady, and the sounds of nature around him begin to dim.
He doesn't know exactly when Aang had joined him, but when he opens his eyes, Aang is staring at him with his wide, grey eyes. Zuko raises a brow.
"Why are you watching me?"
"You look so peaceful, Sifu Hotman!" He says earnestly, and Zuko lets out a long-suffering sigh.
Aang, oblivious to Zuko's petty scowl, copies his full lotus position. "Are you ready, Sifu?"
"I will be ready when you stop calling me."
"Not a chance!" Zuko grumbles to no one in particular, but doesn't opine any further.
Once again, he closes his eyes. This time, Zuko focuses on the way his robes rest on his body, the sensation feather light (thanks to the royal chirimen material reserved for royalty). The way the loose strands of hair caress his skin as they dance in the cold breeze. He focuses on his breathing; how the fresh air travels to his lungs, the way his ribs move upwards and outwards, and the pressure in his chest cavity changes. The gentle whistling of the wind quietens until an otherworldly ring fills his ears (mostly one ear).
Tentatively, Zuko opens his eyes. He's met with the same landscape as before, and for a moment, he thinks they've failed in joining the Spirit World.
The doubt is quickly crushed when he notices an orderly line of... vegetables? walking in the distance. He turns to Aang, who beams at him.
"We're here!" He exclaims loudly, before jumping to his feet. Aang all but runs towards the group of walking vegetables. Sokka would love this. (A considerable amount more if there were walking meat items.)
"Hello Spirits! I'm the Avatar! Y'know, the bridge between my world and yours? Yeah! Anyway, I've been sensing an imbalance for a while now, and I was wondering if you could help me!"
Zuko should've felt second-hand embarrassment by now, but after months of knowing the kid, he thinks he's immune to the feeling. He follows after Aang diligently, falling into step with the bald-headed boy as they trail after the walking greens.
"This boy's the avatar?" One says in a particularly shrill voice.
"Would you look at that!" Another replies incredulously. A cucumber stops walking, and turns to face (Zuko thinks it's facing their way, but he can't be entirely sure given the fact that they have no faces) Aang.
"Well, Avatar... I'm unsure of this imbalance you speak of, but if you want to do any good around here, I suggest you tell Watanabe to stop eating my family!"
"Uh, who's Wata-what's it?" Aang asks unintelligently, scratching his head. Zuko resists the urge to run a hand down his face. He has a tickling suspicion this is going to be a reoccuring feeling.
"And he claims he's the Avatar!" One calls out furiously, and Zuko has had enough.
"He is the Avatar!" He yells angrily. He vaguely realises he must look a little silly; a seventeen year old Fire Lord arguing with vegetables. Admittedly, he's been in worse situations.
"Prove it! Go find Watanabe!" A cabbage snaps. Just like that, they begin walking again. Aang looks stumped.
"Can we get some directions?" He asks hopefully, to which no one answers. He turns to Zuko with an inexplicably bright, crooked grin as he scratches the back of his neck. "Well, I guess we're finding Watanabe."
"Shouldn't we focus on the actual problem here?" He stresses. He hopes that he doesn't leave the spirit world with grey hairs.
"Well, I'm the Avatar–"
"You don't say–"
"–and, if Spirit's have a problem, I'm their guy! I'll help anyone who asks, it's my job Zuko! And who knows, maybe Watanabe'll know about the imbalance I've been sensing." Curse the Avatar and his stupid sense of justice, why'd he have to be so... genuine, and nice?
Zuko doesn't argue with that, though, he understands Aang's sense of responsibility. Synchronously, he despises it.
They walk for what seems like hours. Thankfully, their trek is anything but boring—they stumble across spirits of all shapes and sizes, colours and styles. Not-so-thankfully, those who they ask haven't the faintest idea of who Watanabe is.
It's only when Zuko starts to think they've been sent on a wild goose chase, that the pair stumble across what seems to be a house. A small building, made of sleek wood and topped with a thatched roof. It resembles the infrastructure of a modest Fire Nation home, not that he had visited many of those.
The doors slide open, and Zuko decides that is not a good sign. He voices that much.
"Aang, this place is weird."
"Maybe there's a nice spirit inside who'll offer us useful information!" He exclaims eagerly. His excitable attitude is begging for disaster.
"Yes Aang, because that's just our luck." He protests with a roll of his eyes. Nonetheless, he follows Aang inside.
The house is barren, lacking any furniture except a small, black mat in the middle of the floor. The walls are bare, stripped to the wooden planks the house is made of. Despite the empty state, he feels a cold sensation wrap around his spine and cling to his bones.
Aang must feel this too, because the easy-going smile slips off his face, replaced with an unfamiliar look of prudence. "Hello? Any body home?" Aang calls out hesitantly.
Zuko respects the fact that the Avatar's voice does not shake; he'd expected as much from Aang, but he has to give credit when it's due.
Moments later, a creature appears in the hallway. It's taller than both Aang and himself, allowing the figure to look menacingly over the two. A white coat encompasses it's body, thick and deceptively soft, like that of a cat deer. In place of hands and feet, the spirit has thick, padded paws with concerningly sharp claws. It has pointed ears that sit on the top of it's head, pointed backwards menacingly.
Zuko takes note of the tail that whips minatorily. A white tail, that at the base, splits into two, each appendage moving independently behind it's back. The creature smiles cloyingly, showcasing it's sharp canines that hang over it's bottom lip.
Habitually, Zuko makes an effort not to judge people—or spirits, now—solely by their appearance. However, he thinks he'll make this case an exception, because quite frankly, this one looks terrifying. The smile does nothing to dull it's menacing aura.
Aang coughs once. "You must be Wanatabe."
This time, Zuko face-palms.
The spirit cocks his head to the side as it's tail flicks curiously behind him. "And you must be the Avatar," it drawls out in a deep, hoarse tone. It's voice fires off alarm bells in his mind. The thing looks like it could do more than eat a few paltry vegetables.
"Yup, that's me!" Aang chirps. Survival instincts of a baby Saber-Tooth Moose-Lion. (How Aang survived being hunted down, constant life-endangering situations, and a battle against his father—Zuko will never know.)
The spirit—Watanabe—purrs quietly. "The Avatar has graced me with his presence, what a pleasure."
Aang flashes him a confused look, to which Zuko shrugs minutely. Aang pouts, and turns back to the beast.
"Um, can you stop eating vegetables?"
Momentarily, Zuko wants to die. However, Watanabe finds the question disturbingly amusing, if the widening grin is anything to go by.
"I must eat in order to survive, Avatar."
"Well, may I suggest a non-sentient based diet?"
Zuko swears to Agni he is going to throttle Aang as soon as they are out of immediate danger.
"It's not quite to my liking." Watanabe murmurs as it's feline eyes wander over Aang's figure.
"Well, I'm sure me and my buddy can help find a diet for you!" Before Zuko can interject and explain he will not be doing that, Watanabe replies:
"I'm sure you're knowledge of help is plentiful. Disappearing for a century must have helped my world as it did yours, no?" Aang's abashed smile disappears instantly. His eyes widen, and Zuko can see the flurry of hurt and insecurity that flood his grey irises. Suddenly, he looks so young—and he is, he's only thirteen after all.
That expression alone prompts Zuko to speak. "It's not his fault the Fire Nation plunged the world into an era of darkness!" He riposts indignantly.
"Perhaps not, I believe the fault lies entirely in your bloodline, Fire Lord Zuko?" Zuko falters at the accusation. It's true; his father, and his father before had been the culprits that had brought imbalance and violence for a hundred years. His family had been the ones to rid the world of Air benders, to diminish the population of Water benders to one little girl.
Sensing the pair's diffidence, Watanabe continues. "Your disappearance–" he points an accusatory claw at Aang, "–and your family," he turns to Zuko, "are the reason the worlds have lost their balance."
"We're here to restore that balance," Zuko argues. At the same time, Aang says: "What does that have to do with you eating vegetables?"
(Seriously Aang?)
"You think you can fix this, years of disequilibrium in a day?" He questions.
Aang sobers up as he shakes his head sagely. "No," he begins truthfully, "I'm willing to fix this, no matter how long it takes. It's my duty."
Watanabe is not satisfied with the answer, no matter how sincere it may be.
"Maybe, young Avatar, you are too late."
"Maybe it's you. Unwillingness to change will only get you so far," Zuko retorts hastily. "Keep living in the past and your future will slip through your hands like sand."
"Well, paws."
"Aang, I swear to Agni–"
Watanabe's hiss shuts the two up instantly. "Who are you to tell me what to feel, Ash Maker?" It bares his teeth at Zuko, the whites of it's cupsids flashing balefully in the soft light.
"Don't call him that!" Aang says sharply, brows furrowed.
"I am Fire Lord Zuko, son of-"
In hindsight, that speech probably wouldn't have worked anyway. Watanabe darts towards him, and the world goes black. The last thing he hears is Aang screaming his name.
The sun feels different. It's his first thought as he comes to. Agni's rays feel dissimilar on his skin. He supposes it's because he's in the spirit world, but the wrongness lingers in his chest like a bad cough. His head is splitting; the pain so severe it almost reminds him of the time he was blown up by pirates. A weird comparison, in all fairness.
Zuko blinks a couple times before he deems himself fit to sit up. He props himself up on two elbows and waits for the ringing in his ears to fade in order to survey his surroundings. He seems to be in some sort of Spirit alleyway, tucked away from the world around him. The buildings that do surround him are angular and harsh, made of compact, greyish earth that are displeasing to the eye. The Spirit World is weird, he concludes.
It's only a minute later he notices the two Spirits that are currently staring at him. He thinks he hears one ask, 'what is he wearing?'.
One has offensively bright red hair, spiked in all directions and defying gravity. His eyes are crimson red to match. He's wearing odd clothes; black sleeves but no shirt (???), black trousers and a red sorf of cape that hangs around his waist.
The other looks equally intriguing. Ash blond hair that resembles an explosion, twinning red eyes, and a notable scowl. Zuko's eyes zero in on the green gauntlets that cover his forearms. What kind of get ups are these?
The red head approaches him first, gingerly walking up to him with concern all over his face.
"Uh, you okay man?" As he speaks, Zuko spots the sharp teeth that that poke out every other word. Sharper than Watanabe's.
"Where's Aang?" He demands immediately. The two share a confused look, and then the blond speaks.
"Who the fuck is 'Aang'?" He yells angrily. Damn, he's pissed. Zuko shakes his head—he's some place else, they probably weren't aware of the fact that the Avatar is here.
"Nevermind. Where am I?"
"Uh, Musutafu?" The sharp toothed one replies, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Zuko weighs his option, he is in an arbitrary spot within the Spirit World with two seemingly non-hostile spirits (mostly). His best shot is to find Aang, but it's proving difficult knowing neither spirit is aware of who or where Aang is.
"The Avatar?" He tries again.
"Um, maybe he has a concussion." He says to the blond, who in turn looks inconvenienced. How lovely.
"I don't have a concussion!"
The spirit raises his hands placatingly, "okay, okay, sorry. What's your name?"
"Zuko." He leaves out the Fire Lord part, since that didn't go so well last time. The red head nods.
"Okay, I'm Kirishima. This is Bakugou–" he gestures to the angry looking spirit, "were Heroes in training." Heroes in... what in Agni's name does that mean? Actually no, he doesn't care. He just needs to find Aang, and get the fuck out of here. He sincerely hopes Aang is okay.
"Are you hurt?" The red head, no—Kirishima, asks kindly.
"I'm not hurt." He grumbles childishly, and hastily stands up as if to prove his point. He dusts himself off. "Well, excuse me, but I'm going to find my friend."
Kirishima blocks him as Zuko tries to move. He glares at the spirit.
"Maybe you should get checked over, it wouldn't hurt!" He encourages softly. Zuko studies him; his intentions seem genuine, despite his friend who looks two seconds away from jumping him. "Or at least, let us walk you home? Do you live in the area?"
"No. I live in Hari Bulkan." He states simply.
"You live where!?" Bakugou shouts incredulously. He eyes the bulging vein on the blond's forehead.
Zuko isn't entirely well-versed in spirits, but he's almost entirely sure they know of the Fire Nation. Well, who doesn't?
"The Fire Nation?" He prompts impatiently. Zuko's getting tired of their antics; he has to find Aang, he has to make sure he's okay.
"What kind of made up fantasy bullshit are you spewing at us? Are you mentally challenged?"
"Bakugou! You can't just ask someone that–"
"I haven't got time for this. Do you know who Watanabe is?"
"Uh, yeah? Cyborg Hero: 'Iornman?'" Zuko blinks. Once, twice. What the fuck are they talking about? Hero?
"What are you– no, the spirit, you idiot!"
Instead of taking offence, Kirishima looks helplessly at his friend. "Maybe we should get Aizawa?"
"I'm not talking to anymore spirits unless they know who Watanabe is! This is for the sake of your world as much as mine!"
"Yeah... I'm calling Aizawa."