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The soft sunlight of dusk filters through the small cracks etched into the walls of the worn out storage room. It’s warm and slightly humid; the rustic smell of both wood and rock mix and fill the air. In the distance, badgermoles snort guttural and low while the shirshu sing loudly in shrill coos.
Zuko grunts as he pushes another round rock against the worn-down wall, collapsing onto the ground to catch a breath. With age, his energy and strength seems to decay faster, he reasons to himself, mildly fatigued. He takes the chance to relax and sit down on the decaying floor, resting his hand on top of his knee.
From above him, Katara gently sets the paper lanterns she’s holding on the higher shelves using an empty wooden crate as her stepping stool. Silently, he watches her with a small smile. Even with the most mundane actions, she can somehow make it look graceful and effortless like waterbending. Though, as he watches her in interest, he notices the number and variety of rocks in this cramped storage. He is instantly reminded of an entertaining notion.
“I forget how much Toph loves her boulders and rocks,” he remarks, and his comment catches Katara’s attention.
She refuses to laugh at his words though, determined in finishing the current task laid out in front of her. Despite how little she is up from the ground, she knows that at their age, a fall from this height would certainly be disastrous. With shaky hands, she carefully sets down the last lantern onto the shelf. Then, using the creaking wall as support, she climbs down from her precarious position of balancing on the empty crate and back onto solid ground.
Sighing in relief, she looks down at him with a bemused expression, her hands on her hips. “What are you doing on the floor?”
“Resting.” He jabs his finger back at the boulder behind him. “Toph makes it look easy to move all those big boulders and rocks.” Standing up, he cracks his back and immediately winces afterwards. If his back is sore after this, then he really has to be careful in what activities he dedicates his time to from now on. “Especially at sixty-seven years old.”
“That’s why she’s an Earthbender for a reason,” Katara teases. “Come on, let’s go. We’ve got to make sure that she’s not tormenting any poor villagers nearby.”
Zuko crosses his arms. “Like that’s ever stopped her in the past.” Regardless, he follows her out the door.
As Katara closes the door to the storage room, she locks it with the key Toph had given her. Personally, she thinks that Toph has nothing to worry about. No one is going to steal a bunch of rocks. That rebuttal never deterred Toph though, so… here they are.
Once she hears the click, she puts the key safely into her pocket and joins Zuko, who is waiting for her slightly up ahead. As they walk, Katara can’t help but think about today and Toph’s age. It makes her stomach twist inside; it makes her want to vomit. Every time she thinks about Toph turning sixty-seven, she feels like she’s splitting into two.
Zuko’s caught sight of that somber look on Katara’s face, and now his own mind won’t let him think about anything else. Her face is still pulled into a small frown, and he recognizes that she is thinking intensely. The first thing he can think of to cheer her up is what his uncle, Iroh, had always done for him when he felt down.
“Katara,” Zuko begins. He waits as she turns to him with quiet interest as he continues, “What did a sleeping Earthbender say to another?” She shrugs limply. “Leaf me alone, I’m bushed!”
He chuckles, proud to have improved on his initial attempt of his uncle’s pun. Although, looking at Katara’s face, he notices that her expression has hardly changed. His laughter comes to a quiet stop.
“Thanks for trying,” she says. It is a sweet attempt in all honesty, and while she would love to indulge in his pun, her mind seems to feel otherwise. It is a curt and blunt statement, and part of her regrets how she says, “but I already know that one. You told that one to us before.”
Heat creeps up from his neck all the way to his face, and he doesn’t know what else he can say to remedy the situation. All he can think to say is “Oh,” and go quiet. Stiffly, he rubs the back of his neck, as if trying to erase the awkwardness unseen and the blush visible. He wants to scream and shake his fist at the setting sky. How could Uncle tell him a joke that seems to work only when he says it?!
The silence envelops them again as they continue to walk beside each other. Neither dare to say another word. The short walk feels like a mile to Zuko with the intense heat of his prior blunder replaying over and over in his head. He wonders if this day can end any sooner. Katara wonders the same, hoping she can quickly box up today and shelf it away as another one in her buried memories.
However, with the sun still up, destiny has other plans. Finally, they reach the stone bridge, the final stretch of their walk before reuniting back with Toph. In the depths of her mind, Katara neglects to do the one thing that she has been doing this whole time: walking. As her foot catches on a loose stone, she is sent tumbling towards the edge of the bridge, which inconveniently enough for her, has the railings low enough for her body to cross over.
At once, Zuko rushes over and guardedly wraps his hands around her torso; he keeps a firm stance to prevent her from falling over anymore. However, the unbalanced weight is too much for his poor body to bear, particularly after pushing Toph’s precious rocks into the storage room. Too far over, Katara ends up pulling Zuko in with her into the shallow pond.
SPLASH!
Katara slowly opens her eyes, blinking out the water before bursting out into fervid laughter. The sight in front of her has her forgetting all about the thoughts she had been swirling in. Of course, the cause of said laughter stares back pointedly in bafflement.
For a brief moment, Zuko is still befuddled as to what has Katara laughing to the point of tears. That confusion lasts for a total of three seconds when a drop of water falls on top of his nose. He reaches for his hair and feels a strange texture in it. Pulling it out and off his head, he inspects it and recognizes the object: a green lily pad.
Still, he feels something is off. Katara’s eyes are still on him with that wide grin full of mirth, and he’s not sure how to feel with all her attention directly on him. On top of his head, he feels something move. Again, he reaches for his hair and a texture, differing from the lily pad, comes into contact with his hands. Gingerly, he picks up the new texture and brings it down, so he’s face level with it. The “texture” he looks at, peers right back at him and quacks. He can’t help but give a small smile at the little turtle duckling. With slight caution, he lowers his hands into the water as the duckling glides out of his hands and into the murky water.
To be fully certain, he combs through his hair for any additional surprises and finds nothing else. Pressing his hands into the wet ground below, he stands up. But before he can even dream of the idea of going anywhere sink in, his legs slip and gravity returns his weight back into the pond in full force. Water sprays onto Katara as her laughter grows even more fervently. After witnessing the outcome of his actions, he relents in standing for the moment, smiles, and allows himself to soak in the jovial laughter of the waterbender sitting right beside him.
Baby turtleducks and their mother swim around the calm pond. Daintily, the green lilypads float across the water, uncaring of who or what is in the way. Naturally, the blossoming pink water lilies follow them. In this little corner of their world, everything seems to draw towards Zuko and Katara. The turtleducks, lilypads, and water lilies surround them in a small circle, almost pleadingly, for them to stay in this secluded haven for as long as possible.
Muffled splashes grow closer as Zuko gazes down to see the same turtle duckling from earlier swimming over to him. He extends his hands out, cupping them in a peaceful offering. In response, the duckling stares at his hands, tilting its little head back and forth, tentatively sniffing them before jumping on. His heart swells with elation as he brings the little duckling close to his chest, where it snuggles against it in contentment. Visibly, his shoulders sag as stress he didn’t know he was holding is released.
“It’s been quite a long time since I’ve played with turtleducks like this,” he says in a wistful tone. “As a kid, I remember feeding them bread with my mom.”
Katara looks over at him, spotting the little duckling cozied up by Zuko. Her own heart wells up in adoration at the sight. She wishes she could paint this picture onto a canvas or engrave it in stone, or even weave it into the fabric of her very dress; whatever medium it is, it doesn’t matter, as long as it would allow her to keep this image close to her heart.
Not wanting to give Zuko the impression she’s lost in her thoughts again, she reminds herself that she should be focusing on enjoying this moment before it slips through her hands like water.
So, she hides her private thoughts and gives an amicable smile. “They are very sweet creatures.”
Appearing to sense her own disquiet, another baby turtleduck paddles its little legs over to her before hopping into her lap and snuggling down. Immediately, her thoughts seem to quell down. Her mind returns to the peaceful present with Zuko as she tunes back to listen.
“Except for when they bite you,” Zuko retorts with a snicker. “I had upset their mother when I threw the bread loaf at one of her ducklings. When she bit me, I stayed away from them for the longest time.”
“What made you change your mind?”
“When I returned to the Fire Nation,” he answers, gently rubbing his finger against the baby turtle duck’s head. “I visited the same pond years later, after realizing what I had done wrong. Once I fed them bits of bread again, they warmed up to me. That day, I learned it was not their fault. It had been mine.”
“A mother will always want to protect her young.” The words leave her mouth slightly hollow. Still a mother herself, Zuko’s story resonates with her. Though, she tries not to dwell on her pensive thoughts anymore than she already has and shifts to thinking more positively. Unsurprisingly, looking at the turtleduck strikes her with a cheerful, fond memory.
Again, giggles erupt from her. Zuko turns to her with that same, charmingly puzzled expression. “You remember when Toph was still working as the Chief of Police back in Republic City?” she asks.
“Yes?” Zuko responds with a dumbfounded grin, trying to connect the pieces. “Where are you going with this?”
“Well, I remembered when I hid a turtle duck in her office to prank her, and by the time she found it, the turtle duck had already laid eggs!”
Their laughter rings out across the pond, bright and airy. As Zuko is struggling to compose himself between giggles, he suddenly lets out a sneeze. “ACHOO!”
He grins. “We should probably get out of the water,” he suggests.
“If you can,” Katara teases.
Zuko rolls his eyes with a smile and slides the baby turtle duck back into the water. Katara mimics him. Carefully, they get back onto their feet and wade through the water and back onto dry land.
Nearby the pond, they choose to sit down on a small, grassy hill. Although Zuko tries to reassure her that he’ll be alright, and that being a little soaked has never hurt anybody; she adamantly disagrees, coming from the fact of being an expert waterbender that has witnessed how a little water can turn dangerous. Not wanting to take the chance of him getting sick, she gets back up again. Falling into stance, she waves her hands in the familiar motion that she’s done over thousands of times.
Beside her, Zuko silently gawks, praying that his face doesn’t expose the tremendous wonder scrawled in his eyes. Like the infinite stars and the dazzling moon visible each night, he can never seem to pull his attention away when she bends water. He feels the moisture from his clothes leave as he observes the dampness leave her clothes as well.
In front of them, the water materializes as a sizable, floating mass before Katara guides it back to join the rest of the pond. Satisfied, she sits back down once again and watches the scenery in front of her unfold. From afar, she watches the baby turtleducks following their mom across the pond before veering their own ways. Little by little, she finds herself unthinkingly returning back to the same frame of mind she had been in at the beginning.
While they sit, Zuko notices that the carefree smile Katara had is once again starting to fade. He recognizes that face from before and has an inkling feeling as to why.
Comforting others is an ability that he’s always figured himself not to be good at, but in this particular moment, he can see that Katara is in aching pain alone. Even if he’s not the most skilled at consoling others, he wants to try and soothe what is in her mind, even at least a little bit.
It is a hard question but a necessary one in order to unpack what kind of thoughts are swirling inside her head. “Katara, I’ve been meaning to ask… about Aang.” He turns fully to look at her. “How are you doing?”
All at once, Katara breaks out into tears. His heart pounds loudly in his ears, nearly deafening, but not enough to distract him from her weeping. This is not at all how he planned for this conversation to go. He slides in closer to her, putting an arm around her and patting her back.
“I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “I… I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
Katara sniffs, wiping tears out of her eyes. “It’s not your fault.”
“If you want…” Zuko says, “I’m here to listen.” He awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. How did Uncle make this look so easy? “I know I’m not the best at comforting others, but for you, I want you to feel better.” He offers her a warm smile.
She returns the smile with a sorrowful one as she rests her head against his shoulder and looks out into the distance at the turtleducks still swimming around. These thoughts and worries… are they worth bothering him about? And immediately she admonishes herself. Why is she so fearful that he’ll push her away? Throughout all these years, he’s stuck by her, and now he’s here offering to help lighten her burdens.
“It’s just… today,” Katara murmurs. “Today Toph’s turned sixty-seven, but Aang won’t. He never will.” Another sob breaks through her, shaking her shoulders. Zuko hugs her closer. He feels the wet drops of tears stain his clothes, but he doesn’t care. He just listens. That’s what matters right now: being here for her.
Katara continues, “I miss him, y’know? To love someone and then to lose them… it’s never easy. And… at times, when I’m alone or asleep, this feeling hits me, and I can’t stop thinking about it; I can’t help but want to cry.” More tears escape. Zuko takes a handkerchief from his pocket and passes it over to Katara. She gratefully accepts it, using to wipe her watery eyes. “I’m just worried I’ll be the only one left when the time comes.”
“Well,” Zuko breaks his silence. He hopes in this minute that whatever he says next is not as imprudent and shortsighted as his earlier attempt was. “It’s normal to feel scared about being alone. While I can’t promise you the fact that I won’t die first, I would want you to know that whenever you feel alone, I’ll be there for you. As for Aang, even when we can’t see him, he’s still there, watching over us. Like my uncle and your mom.”
It’s quiet for a while as his words sit in the air. A gentle breeze passes through them, as if to confirm Zuko’s words. Katara smiles slightly, and Zuko smiles seeing hers. Splashes from the turtle ducklings’ webbed feet are audible in the background as they continue to remain in this tranquil hush.
“Thanks Zuko,” Katara says. The constant bubbling at the back of her mind seems to have finally simmered. “You always know what to say to make me feel better.”
Zuko chuckles. “I don’t know about that…” While he didn’t ruin the conversation, he’s not sure that the word “always” is an accurate testament to his comforting abilities. “The leaf pun I said earlier barely helped.”
Regret boils inside Katara. She wishes she had never said anything about his silly pun. She puts a hand on top of his to assuage his unease. “Yeah, but I knew that you were trying to help.” And when she sees the tremors from his left hand begin to diminish, her own unease further dissipates.
“Zuko.” A soft grunt is his reply. “How is everything going for you?”
It takes him a moment. “Me?” he responds, bemused. He had not been expecting for the conversation to switch suddenly to him.
Katara’s eyebrows furrow with a bright grin. “Yes, you.” Her smile grows. “I’m not talking to the turtle ducks out there.” He laughs and it’s one of the sweetest sounds she hears.
“Yeah, you’re right. Um, it’s been… okay.” He sighs, debating as to how much he wants to explain his predicament. “You remember my daughter, Izumi?” She nods and he continues, “She’s growing up to be a brilliant woman. I’m really proud of her. Although, I do worry when she becomes Fire Lord someday. It is a lot to handle.”
“With you as her father, I’m sure she’ll be alright,” she assures him.
Zuko smiles at her comment, but then doubt creeps back in. “Yeah… sometimes I wonder if that’s enough, though.”
Instantly, Katara knows what he’s implying. Complicated relationships are not a foreign subject to her. She definitely has had her share of mixed feelings and difficult choices in her youth; and with time, she believes she has been able to make more rational choices; even despite the lingering emotions that haunt her from past relationships.
“Is she… and you?” Katara doesn’t say her name, apprehensive of again shattering the calm.
“Yeah, it does hurt, but I think it’s the best thing for the both of us.” Katara wordlessly nods, sympathetic. “You’ve seen how we were together. It wouldn’t do Izumi well if we stayed like that.”
“And how are you taking it?”
“I… I don’t know.”
Zuko doesn’t know what to think now that he’s thrown on the other side of this conversation. This event has taken place so recently, he hasn’t properly begun to process it, instead throwing himself into work to distract himself from the disarray of perplexing feelings scorching him from the inside out.
He carries on, “I wonder if it’s because of all my past trauma and relationships that led to this happening.” Deeply, he sighs. “I’m always thinking if there was anything else I could’ve done to make it work… Then maybe, all of this wouldn’t have happened.”
“Zuko.” He looks at Katara to see her with a determined frown on her face. “Don’t blame yourself for something that needs two people to hold up. Relationships shouldn’t be a one-sided deal. And sometimes, they don’t always go as planned.”
Her last words particularly make his heart throb. If only fate could be a little less cruel. “Do you remember the last time we came here?” Zuko says.
Glowing like the setting sun behind them, Katara’s face seems to light up at his words. “Yeah, we were sitting on that rock over there.” She points to the white rock with gray spots, weathered by time. “And you had a bunch of those same pink water lilies in your lap.”
“And you were putting them in my hair,” Zuko adds on with an amused smile.
“They looked cute on you,” she giggles. “Like a little flower crown.”
“Yeah,” Zuko agrees. “Although Uncle always told us to be careful sitting there, as we might fall.”
“Well, we never did, did we?” Katara quips back.
Zuko’s eyes flicker with a familiar emotion and Katara is tempted to say something but lets it go instead. She’s not sure if that is the best decision, but it’s the decision she makes. Whilst he stares ahead at the horizon, she takes the opportunity to observe his face. Her eyes trace the contour of his silhouette, ending up on the recognizable, discolored patch of his face.
“Does your scar still hurt?”
“My scar?” The question catches Zuko off guard as he shifts back to face her. Confoundedly, he points at his face.
Katara shakes her head. “I should’ve been more specific.” She points at his chest. “This one.”
“Ohh, that one,” Zuko remarks, pressing a hand to his chest. “No, it doesn’t, thanks to you.”
Already, she’s wondering if her healing work has been holding up since the last time they met. “Is it still there?” she asks, somewhat fretfully. The last thing she wants to hear is that he’s collapsed far away from her when she’s powerless to do anything about it. She doesn’t want that to happen again.
“Honestly, I’d be surprised if it still is. If you really focus, you might see it.” Zuko teases, “With you coming over to heal me all the time, it’s likely not as visible as before.”
She knocks her shoulder into his. “Don’t say it like that! I just wanted to make sure that you would be alright! Especially with how…”
“I know.” Zuko smiles softly at her. To him, he’s always seen Katara as a protector; and while he doesn’t necessarily need her protection all the time, her fierce but passionate heart seems to draw him in. Whether she is healing or fighting, he knows that behind her actions, there is something or someone that she is persevering for. Thus, he understands what it’s like to be unable to fulfill a specific role anymore; to spend most of your life believing in it to be your lifeline. “You don’t need to explain yourself to me.”
“Thank you.” However, a nagging thought pops up in Katara’s head and refuses to leave her alone. “I still can’t believe you jumped in front of Azula’s lightning during that Agni Kai.”
He responds to the praise with a repressed groan. “That had been so painful. But you matter to me,” Zuko says definitively. “I wouldn’t jump in front of lightning for just anyone.”
“Oh really?” Katara nudges. “What about the others: Sokka, Aang, Suki, Toph?”
“I would do it for them too,” he says without any hint of hesitation. “You all are important to me. I don’t know where I would be without you guys. I don’t know if I would’ve reached my full potential if I had never met you.”
“Aww,” Katara gushes. “You’re important to me too, Zuko! Even when you were bald, and chasing Aang around, and getting your butt handed to you by an amazingly talented waterbender, and—”
“Okay, okay,” Zuko cuts off, chuckling, “wouldn’t want your ego to get anymore bigger.” Katara snickers. “Although, I do wonder why when I visited the Southern Water Tribe to discuss a global alliance, there was a stack of papers addressed to me from you?” Zuko impishly squints at her. “I never received such letters.”
“I was simply writing them to correspond with you when I would be unavailable to travel,” Katara refutes. “Nothing else.”
“I believe you,” he replies matter-of-factly.
She gives him a suspicious glare. “Why are you bringing it up then?”
“Well… Sokka read them aloud to me.”
“HE WHAT?!” Katara screams, clutching at her hair. “What did he read?!”
Zuko is taken back by her reaction, debating as to whether he should follow through in saying it or not. “It’s been a long time, but I think it was something about trade in the Fire Nation? It seemed to be in some sort of code. All I remember is it talking about business and diplomatic affairs.”
Katara audibly sighs. “Thank Tui.” She spots the curious glimmer in Zuko’s eyes and quickly changes topic. “Speaking of diplomatic affairs, why do I still hear that you were in some sort of scandal involving a pen?”
Zuko groans, hiding his face in his hands. “I’m surprised they’re still telling that story.”
“Of course they are,” Katara teases. “Mind elaborating?”
Wanting to switch the topic, he scans around the area for an anchor. Nature, on the other hand, has a twisted sense of humor. All of the animals he had seen are now hidden away, and the inanimate objects remain motionless. There’s no way for him to distract Katara at all.
He surrenders. “During one of the imperial cabinet briefings, there was a special ink brush we used when signing important documents. At the time, I was signing an imperial decree with said brush, and it broke… spilling ink all over my imperial robe. Even better, due to the high heat from the torches nearby, it ended up permanently sealing the ink, making it impossible to erase.”
“That was the scandal?” Katara replies, unamused. “The way they talked about it, I thought you had destroyed a legendary heirloom or maimed someone with it!”
Zuko scoffs, “That’s what happens when you listen to gossip.”
Katara laughs and smiles brightly at him, and this time as he watches, he takes the time to observe as her eyes shift back to the pond. He notices the many little, trivial things: the small wrinkles by her mouth as she speaks; the little folds around her eyes when she smiles; the soft hue of her hair growing more muted. As he notices all of these things, he remembers a moment, but he finds this new distraction almost laughable now that he no longer needs it.
“Fifteen years ago at the Glacier Spirits Festival,” he says, “do you remember it?”
“Of course,” she answers back. “How could I forget when Sokka waited in that line for Gran Gran’s famous smoked arctic hen legs for over two hours only for Appa’s sneeze to send it flying straight onto the icy floor?”
“Yeah,” Zuko replies, laughing as well. “It had been nearly a year in between our visits before the festival!”
Katara playfully pouts at him. “That’s not my fault! You’ve seen how mischievous my kids can get! If I take even a single eye off of them, there they go right into the ocean!” She sighs tiredly but smiles. “I’m so glad that I ended up going to the festival that day. I almost left early.”
Zuko raises a curious eyebrow. He doesn’t remember seeing her gloomy that day, and guilt strikes him. Had it been so long that he hadn’t been able to recognize when Katara wasn’t herself? It makes him all the more grateful that today he had picked up on her earlier despondness. “You almost did? Why?”
“It’s silly,” Katara tries to brush it off, waving her hands in the air. The memory has happened so long ago, and she doesn’t want to resurface old reminders and wounds. “Don’t worry about it.”
“No,” Zuko affirms with a serious face. He doesn’t want to let this memory ghost by them. It doesn’t matter if it happened yesterday or decades ago, he wants to hear what is on her mind. “I won’t judge you, Katara. You of all people knows how much I’ve been judged.”
His sentiment makes Katara’s uneasiness melt away and she points at her hair. He looks at her with an adorably confused expression. “Your… hair?” He scratches his head. “It looks perfectly fine to me.”
“Well… before, I couldn’t stand it,” Katara tries to elaborate. “At the festival, I remember seeing an ice attraction, where the ice was so glassine that you could see your reflection in it like a mirror.” She looks at Zuko, and he nods with an understanding as to where she’s going. “And… then I noticed the gray streaks in my hair, and I was shocked! I already had gray hair at forty?! I realized how much of my youth was disappearing, and I felt like all the time I thought I had was really running out.”
“Hm…” Zuko murmurs in a reflective tone. To him, he’s never seen Katara as anything less than beautiful. Perhaps when a person constantly sees themselves in the mirror, they start to become disillusioned with their beauty, the same beauty others can never grow tired of. “Do you still feel like this now?”
Katara shakes her head with a wide smile. “No. Not anymore. Do you remember what you told me that day?”
“Uh…” Zuko drones on, looking around to see if anything would strike his apparent horrid memory of that specific day, but nothing comes to mind. “No…” he finally admits with a tense expression. He winces. “Did I say something rude?”
Katara bursts out into laughter. “No… you didn’t. In fact, you said that I looked beautiful, like the moonlight was woven into my hair.”
An embarrassed squeak escapes Zuko’s throat. “I said that?” He is not only shocked by his own words but the boldness as to what he said. If only he could have had that boldness much sooner.
Katara smirks. “You must have been so enamored that you couldn’t even remember what happened that day.”
Zuko’s embarrassment burns away into cheekiness as he retorts, “And you couldn’t remember when you hugged an ice sculpture thinking it was Sokka.”
Katara is silenced by his words as a flustered blush forms across her face. She sticks out her tongue defiantly, but he knows not to take it to heart. It is all in good fun after all, reminiscing and teasing one another about all the memories they’ve been through, through all the emotions they’ve had.
“Remember when I visited the Fire Nation?” Katara asks.
“Which time?” Zuko asks in a teasing voice. “You came to my nation so much, the citizens and guards thought I was building some sort of sculpture of you. It didn’t help when one of the officials saw you dancing inside my private library too.”
She jokingly shoves him in the shoulder. “I wasn’t dancing! I was trying to get one of your stupid books from your shelf! What kind of meathead puts all the important books and scrolls at the very top?!”
Zuko snickers. “It’s not my fault! I hadn’t planned for you to suddenly show up!”
“Oh please,” Katara retorts, rolling her eyes. “You knew when I was coming to Caldera City: it was to discuss further developing our alliance, not arguing about who is the better dancer, jerk. Besides, we know it’s clearly me.”
Zuko laughs. “Of course I do, but because you wore so much red in your outfit, all of my ministers and officials freaked out. You should’ve seen their faces. They thought I was going to announce an engagement.”
Katara chuckles but her smile fades quickly. “It wouldn’t have been bad, though,” she whispers.
His eyes bulge as he quickly tries to clear up his words. “No! I wasn’t saying it would’ve been bad if we had gotten engaged, but it was funny seeing how they reacted to you simply adding another color in your dress.” He buries his face into his hands. “Oh just kill me now.”
She shakes her head with an amused grin. “It wouldn’t have been bad to marry me?” She puts a hand to her chest, fluttering her eyelashes with light jest. “Is that what you’re saying?”
“I mean… of course not!” A blush crawls up on his face, and he suddenly feels like the same awkward teen in his youth. “Who wouldn’t want to marry a beautiful, intelligent woman like you?” he answers. “I just wish…” His eyes darken a little. “I hadn’t taken so long to say something…”
Katara’s easy-going smile slowly falls off her face. “What do you mean? You never seemed interested in me like that. So, I bottled my feelings, thinking that you hadn’t felt that way.”
“Oh Katara…” Zuko’s voice trembles. Old feelings he swore he buried are rising up from beneath the surface. “How could I not feel any way about you?” His heart thumps again loudly in his chest. “If I had told you that day…”
Katara’s nose scrunches up in the cute way he’s always adored. When she speaks though, her voice sounds as fragile as glass. “What… day?” He doesn’t say anything. “Zuko…” she says, albeit softer, “what day?”
Zuko breathes in, but it’s choked up like fiery, thorny branches burning and scratching up the inside of his chest. If any deeper, he may suffocate; at least, that’s what he believes. “I…” His voice quivers. Katara gently puts her hand on top of his. The touch this time sends cold chills through his body, like a phantom reminding him of what could’ve been.
Katara’s eyes widen at the realization. “H-How much—”
“I heard Aang confess to you that day in Uncle’s tea shop.” A small smile creeps on his face. “I remember being so relieved when you rejected him. Maybe it sounds petty, but at that moment, I had a small thought: that I had a chance.”
She leans off his shoulder, turning to face him fully. “I don’t understand.”
“From that day, I tried my hardest to win your heart,” he continues. “I kept telling myself that this day, I would confess. That this day I would speak my heart out. But that day never came. Not until I saw you and him holding hands when you returned from that trip.”
“But Zuko…” Her own lips start trembling. She can’t believe what she’s hearing. No. She can believe it, but she can’t believe it’s real. “You didn’t need to try to win my heart. You had it.”
“I know,” he shakily replies, “but I didn’t think I deserved it. I should’ve though. I should have said something. Instead of saying something, here I am, beating myself over something that happened decades ago.”
He turns his face away from hers, but Katara gently turns his face towards her. Softly, she wipes one of the tears threatening to fall from his eyes. He stares into those rheumy blue eyes as she says, “If you had asked me, I would’ve said yes.”
Those words are enough to make the dam of tears fall at once. He wraps his arms around Katara’s back and she welcomes the hug, wrapping her own around his shoulders. The touch burns with a painful familiarity from the first time they hugged on that wooden dock on Ember Island. Quiet sobs wrack their bodies until they’re a bunch of sniffling messes lamenting over the one that got away.
More memories start flooding into Katara’s restless mind: the small, tender moments between them; the yearning tension brewing that she swore had been all in her head; the final reminder of a decision that she knows she can never take back. All of these memories come crashing down on her with the force of a tidal wave. Is it possible to drown in memories? She thinks she can with the familiar, hollow ache in her chest gnawing from the inside out.
More tears fall from her eyes. It hurts. Every fiber of her being hurts. She wonders if she’s wrong in her grief. If she even deserves to grieve, for that matter, because why would she, a widowed wife with healthy grown children, be thinking of the past in such a way? This agonizing truth that she swore she buried has fully resurfaced: dead, like the old love she once had.
As for Zuko, in his head, Katara’s words reverberate resoundingly, almost deafening. Happiness bursts through his chest, but he knows the feeling is a facade as the tempest of anguish rips apart through his fragile joy, revealing an emotion he hasn’t seen in a while. Regret is an old, bitter friend he never seems able to escape from. It visits him in seasons where he’s convinced he’s content, only for it to casually incinerate his treasured peace and char his heart into ash.
Nothing can be done to reverse the time he so wishes to get back. Stuck is what he is. He’s stuck here in the present knowing that he can’t be anything more to her now, other than as a beloved friend. Pour his heart out: that’s all he had to do, and the frustration boils him alive. Back then, he thought the scariest thing was to hear her rejection, but he knows now the scariest thing is to wander through life wondering about what could have been and never knowing.
His heart beats fast yet steady, like an anxious hummingbird learning to fly for the first time. Against him, Katara’s heart thumps: slow but irregular, jumping beats like scattered rain. As they sit there, nearly motionless, a fascinating phenomenon takes place. Their heightened emotions begin to quiet down as the soft, imbalanced pulse of their hearts start to counteract the weight of their feelings.
When Zuko finds his heart slowing in pace, he hears Katara’s against his chest beating in sync with his. Fully calmed down, he slowly removes his arms, and she does the same. Though, as he stares into her eyes, albeit tinged pink, he still cherishes her beauty and presence. Despite everything, he is so glad that she has been a part of his life and still is. He breaks out into a smile, leaving Katara confused.
“What’s wrong?” She tilts her head towards him.
Without breaking his smile, he shakes his head and says, “I’m just glad that you’re here with me.”
She playfully shoves his shoulder, relieved. “Don’t worry me like that!” He laughs, and Katara can’t help but smile seeing his. “And I’m glad you’re here with me. Even if fate decided differently, I’m glad destiny still kept us together.”
“And we have each other until the rest of our lives,” Zuko finishes. Katara’s smile wavers slightly as tears roll down once again. “Oh! I made you cry again!” He frets, fishing into his pocket for any other handkerchiefs but it comes up empty-handed.
Katara waves it off as she wipes the lingering tears with the handkerchief he gave earlier. “They’re happy tears,” she says. “Thanks again for being here with me.”
Zuko’s eyes glimmer. “And thanks for giving me that chance.”
“KATARA! ZUKO! WHERE THE HELL ARE YA?”
They both jolt up at the familiar voice and look behind them. In the distance, they see Toph stomping around, and they realize they’ve spent far too much time by the small pond. The sun is mere moments away from slipping below the earth.
With a groan, Zuko stands up and rubs his back. “Well, we’re certainly not getting any younger.”
Katara lingers on the ground, staring at the turtleducks. “Zuko.” He stops in his tracks and turns around. “Would it be alright if we could do this again sometime? Like… when we were young?”
Zuko smiles. “Of course.” He offers her a hand, which she gratefully accepts before pulling him into a big hug. He returns it as they let themselves linger in the embrace.
“ZUKO! KATARA! YOU BETTER NOT BE HIDING! I’LL FIND YOU!”
“Okay, okay,” Katara grumbles, ending the hug. “Let’s get back before she takes that as a challenge.”
He laughs, “Alright.”
