The Thief And The Healer

Episode 24: Zuko's Choice

Zuko thought carefully about his next words. "I can do that. Do you have a plan for what to do with the name?"
"I'm going to make that monster pay for what he did to my family." Her face was dark, darker than he'd ever seen it, and it unnerved him. (He'd seen this side of her before, but he also knew she wouldn't let him dwell in his own dark spaces for long.)
"Katara," he started.
"Don't try to talk me out of it," she said sharply.
Zuko took a deep breath. "I hear your frustration, but I also want to remind you about what you stand for. Hope. Second chances. If you want to continue working towards a better future like I know you do, you can't allow yourself to get stuck in the past. Take it from someone who just recently learned to move on."
Her eyes began welling with tears. "How, Zuko? How am I meant to move on? I've gone a decade without my mother." Her finger dragged down the hollow if her throat, her necklace still noticeably absent.
"You find something new to cling to." Gripping her hand that was resting against his chest, he said, "Don't you think she'd want that?"
Katara stayed quiet, she wouldn't meet his eyes.
"You think about it." He leaned down to kiss her forehead. "And when I get back, no matter what you decide, I'll go with you."

Wednesday arrived too soon. Katara paused just outside the doorway and took a deep breath. Zuko would be infiltrating the Industry this evening and she wanted to have a couple of things cleared before sending him off. Her hand shook as she lifted it to knock on the apartment door.
Her father opened it.
"Oh, Katara," he said. "Sorry, your brother's still in class and I think Zuko went to the gym."
"I know," she said. "I'm here to see you."
His eyes widened slightly as he moved aside for her to come in. "I just made coffee, would you like some?"
"No, thank you." She moved to sit on the couch only to find it covered in boxes.
"Sorry." Hakoda grabbed two on the end and shifted them on top of the others. "The boys helped me break back into the bakery and grab the things we had to leave behind when…when we left."
Katara had to take a deep breath. "I actually wanted to talk to you about the industry," she said.
Hakoda's eyes hardened. He seemed to have aged in the last couple of days since they'd evacuated during the raid. His normally young looking face suddenly had wrinkles she'd never noticed before. "What about them?"
"I wanted to ask about mom," she continued, "and her work there." Katara had never noticed how much she used to mess with her necklace, never realized how much comfort it had brought her, until it was gone.
Her father shifted in his seat. "I don't know much," he said. "She never wanted to talk about work. She always said family should be the focus of home."
"She was probably trying to protect us," Katara said.
Hakoda smiled. "That's all she ever did." Then his smile turned to Katara. "You get that from her."
Her eyes prickled. "Did you ever hear her talk about something called the avatar initiative?"
"Not that I recall." He thought about it. "But like I said, she didn't usually talk about work. The only thing I can remember is there was one time a man from work came to the bakery. She was upset he was there and rushed him out immediately."
"Do you remember what he looked like?"
He scrunched his nose. "White hair. Crazy bushy. A mustache, like the kind uncle Bato tried a couple of Christmases ago, and a scar. Big one, over his right eye."
So not Uncle Iroh. Probably not Azulon, either. Would her dad have even recognized the most powerful man on the island at the time?
"Why the curiosity with your mom?" he asked.
It would be easy to brush it off, he most likely wouldn't pry. Katara had always been able to solve her own problems before. "We found something we think she may have been working on."
"Really?" Hakoda asked. "This avatar thing?"
"Yes," Katara said. "Did you notice her acting any different? The week or month before she died?"
They never talked about it. The death of Kya had been devastating to all of them, it was difficult to know who had been hit the hardest. Some days Katara would catch her dad staring out the window, his mug of coffee in hand long gone cold.
"What are you asking me, Katara?" he questioned. "Are you trying to insinuate her death was part of some plan?"
Imitating Zuko, Katara paused, choosing her words carefully. "If you found out her death wasn't an accident..." she said, "would you do anything differently?"
Hakoda thought about it. "Your mother used to say we lived in a dark world. That danger and bitterness and strife lurked around every corner. You didn't have to go looking for it for it to find you." He sighed. "She told me that change can only happen when we choose something else. The path of light is a struggle, but without it... we're just fighting hate with more hate." His eyes met hers. "If she lost her life trying to shed light on our world, I can't imagine she would approve of me adding to the darkness."

He had a couple hours to kill before getting ready for the infiltration of his own company and Zuko needed to blow off some steam. After class he headed to Toph's gym. The girl at the desk waved at him as he walked through and he waved back to be polite. He could never remember her name, but Toph had warned him to stay away from her anyways.
The space was massive and open, the walls that weren't lined with mirrors had peeling green paint. As a converted warehouse it had been a while since any renovations had been done, but that was why a lot of people liked it. The random cascade of debris from the aged ceiling made you feel like you were working out in some rustic hole-in-the-wall rather than one of the most prestigious gyms on the island. Attendance was exclusive, if Zuko wasn't such good friends with Toph he probably wouldn't be able to afford the monthly membership.
Coming to the gym had been a good idea. He warmed up with some traditional stretches, ran on the treadmill for about twenty minutes, and then called Toph over to spot him while he did some lifting at the benches.
For once she didn't interrogate him. Aang hadn't been able to keep the a secret so she knew most of the situation, and obviously knew Zuko enough not to bother him for details. When he said he was done and moving to the ring, she simply nodded and went to attend to her other regulars.
Removing his shirt and wrapping his hands, Zuko stretched again before climbing into the boxing ring that was positioned in the center of the gym.
There were three trainers who rotated in Toph's ring. The toughest to defeat was nicknamed 'the boulder'. He'd been a street fighter until Toph had defeated him at his own game and offered him a job. Even in his pumped state, Zuko's speed gave him an edge over the much more built man and he easily won three times.
The boulder conceded but Zuko could still feel slight tension between his shoulders so he decided to run through some jab circuits.
He was just finishing his final routine when the room suddenly dropped several degrees in temperature. His breath fogged in front of him as he exhaled heavily.
Everyone had stopped, looking around the room trying to figure out what was going on. It wasn't until Zuko looked towards the doorway that he realized what had happened.
Katara was standing there, slack-jawed, her eyes trained on him.
Zuko smirked. Well, if that didn't make him feel ten times better.
Raising a hand, he waved her over before dropping out of the ring. He was unwrapping his hands when she arrived at his side, her eyes were averted and her cheeks flared with red.
"Like what you see?" He teased, unable to resist.
Her blush deepened. "I don't know what you're talking about."
A loud voice boomed across the open space. "The whole room knows what he's talking about."
The couple turned to see Toph striding towards them.
"Shut it off, sugar queen," she said when she got closer, "or all my patrons will get to see your butt being handed to you by a blind girl."
Zuko chuckled and pulled on his shirt.
"Toph!" Katara exclaimed, but the room still returned to it's average temperature. "Do you want everyone to know?"
"These lily livers don't have any idea what's going on around them," she said. "They're all too focused on themselves and their image. Much like your focus on Sparky, here."
Katara covered her face with her hands. Zuko lightly pushed Toph's shoulder with a fist in thanks.
"Just so you know," the blind girl muttered, "it's four-o-clock and you stink."
Toph speak for get a move on.
Zuko had to leave for his meeting at 5, so he had about an hour to get presentable.
"Walk me to my bike?" He asked Katara, slinging his duffel bag onto his shoulder.
"Sure." She grabbed his hand and followed close behind.
"You probably don't want to hold my hand," he said, pulling it out of her grip, "I'm all sweaty and gross."
"Oh, I'm holding it." Katara caught his hand more firmly this time, her eyes steely.
With his free hand he waved goodbye to the girl at the front desk. She didn't wave back. Her eyes focused on Katara. Zuko looked between the girls, noticing Katara glaring right back at the girl, her shoulders straight and her chin tilted up with dominance.
The final tension faded from Zuko's muscles as he realized what was happening. Katara was marking her territory. Claiming him. She wanted everyone to know that he was hers.
His smile was stupidly large as they walked out into the open air. He didn't understand why girls got upset when boys were protective of them, this was the best feeling in the world. Katara wanted him, and she wanted him all to herself.
"Was there a reason you came here?" He asked. "Or was it your plan to catch me shirtless?"
Katara stuck her tongue out at him. "My dad said you were at the gym so I thought I'd check on you before you headed out." She glanced back at the entrance. "Figures you're here."
Zuko shrugged. "I needed to hit some stuff before I went to face him."
"I understand that feeling," she hummed. "You may need to bring me here sometime."
"I'm fine with that," he said, reaching his bike and setting down his bag. "You do need quite a bit more training."
"You're deflecting," she observed.
Zuko shifted his weight, taking both of her hands in his. His eyes were focused on his fingers stroking the backs of her knuckles when he said, "I'm nervous."
She was quiet for a moment. "Maybe you shouldn't, maybe it's too risky."
"No." He shook his head. "I'm doing this."
Her voice was quiet. "I wish I could go with you."
His smile was sad as his eyes rose to meet hers. "I would just be worried about you. That someone might find out who you are and-" he inhaled sharply. "No, this is better. Just me."
Leaning up on her tip toes she kissed his cheek. "Be careful. I'll be at the apartment when you're done."
"I'll try to do...that thing you asked me to do."
"About that." It was Katara's turn to look away. "I talked to my dad. He said a lot of the same things you did and-" she took a deep breath- "you don't have to do that. I realized you're both right. Bringing more darkness into this world is the opposite of what we're trying to do."
Zuko smiled. "I'm proud of you."
"Yeah, yeah." She brushed it off but she was smiling.
"You know what this calls for?" Zuko asked.
Her brow furrowed. "What?"
"Celebratory hug!"
Before she could escape, Zuko reached out with his sweaty arms, soaked shirt, and dripping hair to grab her into a hug.
"Ew! Zuko, no!" She wriggled in his gasp trying to push him away. "That's disgusting!"
"Just let it happen." Zuko laughed, ducking his head to wipe his mop of hair across her neck. Katara gagged.
Satisfied that she was thoroughly smothered, Zuko stepped back. "Consider this payback."
"For what?" she demanded.
Zuko smirked. "All those times I got in trouble because of your" -he twirled his fingers at her- "abilities."
Katara sighed. "I'd be more upset but I know where you're headed so just give me a kiss and go shower."
"So demanding," he teased. Then he did what she'd asked.

He'd finally caved and bought another suit. Still a deep maroon but without the ostentatious embroidery. The tailor hadn't even requested payment. As soon as he'd found out who was in his shop, Zuko had been treated like a prince. They'd brought him champagne, offered him a variety of hors d'oeuvres, and then insisted the tab be covered. He would have been grateful was there not so much fear in their eyes.
Now he was riding down the main road, his eyes unfocused while they passed abandoned street after abandoned street. It was obvious when they passed into the western district. Everything was clean, people were milling about in high end shops, and there was a distinct lack of helplessness in the air.
Zuko's fists clenched against the expensive fabric of his pants. How had he allowed this to happen? How had his father blinded an entire island?
Taking a deep breath, Zuko calmed himself down. Thinking about Katara helped. Knowing that when he was done she would be waiting for him.
He looked out with fresh eyes. She was the one who had opened his, after all. The only one who had somehow been able to see clearly enough to realize what was happening. Zuko chuckled when he thought about it.
Then his eyes caught on something.
"Stop. Stop the car."
The tires screeched. Zuko didn't bother waiting for a complete stop before he opened his door and walked up to the small shop display. It was a pushcart, the roof a concaved massacre of aged, waterlogged straw, but the wares we're beautiful. Hair pins sparkled, nestled on rough burlap. Bejeweled rings were scattered within the bottom half of a shoe box as if tossed inside. Expensive watches had been strung along a fishing line crisscrossing along the beams of the cart.
The man was obviously a thief taking advantage of the island's recent suffering. All he'd had to do was wait for Azula to pass on with her cronies. Zuko took a mental note of the location to give to Suki later, but for now his eyes were drawn to a specific item. Artistic waves carved from white-blue marble tied with a dark blue satin ribbon.
Katara's necklace.
"You have an eye for mastery, I see," the man said. "This particular piece would make a fine gift for any beautiful woman. Wouldn't you agree, sir?"
"I'll take it," Zuko said. "And you're going to give it to me for half the price you have listed."
The man's smile faltered. "And why is that, sir?"
Zuko leaned in close, using his height to his advantage. "Because I happen to recognize some of these items from the raids of South Bend."
The man's face noticeable whitened. "Take the necklace," he sputtered. "Take anything you want."
"I'll just take the necklace, thank you." Zuko removed the correct amount of change from his wallet. "And I'll give you a promise in return." He waited until he had the necklace in hand, slipping the delicate trinket into his suit pocket, before giving his thoughts. "I have friends in law enforcement, and if I ever see you here again, I will notify them immediately."
"Of course, sir." The man nodded. He hadn't touched Zuko's gold. "Never again, sir. Won't catch me here, sir."
"Preying on the weak is a tool of cowards and bullies, wouldn't you agree?" Zuko stepped back, his driver opening the back door for him.
"Yes sir." The man nodded and even bowed a little bit. "Cowards, sir. Couldn't be more right."
Not feeling great, but feeling a little bit better, Zuko ducked to get back in the car. Once they'd started driving, he slowly pulled the necklace out of his pocket and examined it. Running his thumb over the smooth stone, he smiled. She would be ecstatic. Maybe even kiss him in front of Sokka. He was simultaneously exhilarated and terrified by the thought.
The gates of the compound loomed ahead, giant and steel. Zuko took another deep breath and tucked the necklace back into his coat pocket, patting it against his chest.
Two hours. He just had to last two hours. First, a short meeting with the advisors. Keep his head low. Most of them would be distracted by the upcoming deadline anyways. On his way out, a quick slip by the archives room. If anyone asked he would say he was going to see his mother. Her room was located in the adjacent wing. The unofficial corner for things his father didn't want to deal with anymore.
His anger was going to be the biggest issue.
Sitting in what could only be described as a throne, Zuko listened to the advisors prattle on to him about the upcoming changes that would come into effect once he graduated. In two weeks. Not that it mattered.
His fingers drummed against the table in annoyance.
Tap tap tap tap.
Tap tap tap tap.
The advisors looked nervous, but it wasn't their fault. How could they know that Zuko's purpose for being there was to undo everything they were trying to explain to him? Why did it matter that his responsibilities would grow if they were going to be stripped from him just as quickly?
He found himself reaching up often to pat the breast pocket of his coat, the presence of Katara's necklace reassuring.
It wasn't that Iroh was going to take charge, he was aware now that his father needed to be removed.
It had been in this very room, seven years prior, that he'd had the conversation that changed the course of his life.
Zhao was giving his weekly report. "We've raised turnover in the outer rim warehouses to spur dedication. Some of the workers were getting complacent with their positions on the line. Productivity has risen ten percent."
"Excellent," Ozai said, "keep the files in the archives. They will be crawling back within the month for half the wage."
"Your wisdom is astounding, my lord."
Zuko wondered if he'd have to be addressed that way. He wondered if he'd like it. Then the administrator's words registered. What had he said? They were firing people simply to create a culture of desperation?
When Zuko's eyes refocused, Zhao and his father were looking at him.
"Yes, father?" he asked. He'd only been permitted to speak the year prior, and only when spoken to.
"You think my methods are inadequate?" Ozai asked.
Zuko's mouth went dry. He must have said something out loud. Zhao's eyebrows were drawn together in anger, his mouth twisted down.
"I suppose…" Zuko trailed off, unsure how to proceed, "I'm confused as to our goal. Is the intention to raise productivity?"
"Always."
"Then I guess, I would imagine there might be other avenues to pursue rather than letting go of loyal workers."
"The industry relies on the control of it's factory workers," Ozai explained. "Your grandfather found this method to be the most stimulating and I agree with him."
Zuko swallowed. "I wondered…shouldn’t we be trying to understand how the world works now rather than trying to force things to stay the way they are? Have we ever considered talking to the factory workers to see what they think?"
The administrators paused their work, the absence of their scratching of pens sent a shiver up Zuko's spine. Their eyes turned to Ozai.
The Phoenix king slowly set down his own pen. "You're insinuating that the men working metal on my order are able to determine the best course of action for our business?"
"I only meant…" Zuko backtracked, his eyes darting around the room for support that would never come. Everyone was watching him. When had he become the enemy? Didn't they see he was only trying to help?
"You would take their word over mine?" Ozai asked.
"Of course not!" Zuko insisted. "I just thought they might have insights from working in the warehouses themselves that we aren't considering."
Ozai's eyebrows flicked up. "You believe they have knowledge that we lack?"
"I- I don't know," Zuko said. "I've never been down to the factories. Surely you have, father?"
Mouths dropped, gasps rang across the marble.
"Why would I bother with the rabble that line up on the streets to catch sight of my tinted windows?" Ozai drawled, "I am above them, Zuko."
"What if they see something we don't?"
His father's eyes narrowed, their golden depths flickering. "There's a reason they're where they are." Ozai leaned back in his seat. "Phoenix Industries is a blessing to them. They do as their told. They are incapable of advancement on their own. It takes our superior understanding to keep them afloat, and you would prefer I ask their thoughts? What could the inexperienced and uneducated possibly have to offer?"
"But father," Zuko hesitated. "If we don't ask, aren't we limiting ourselves? Without their experience, we are merely sustaining the constructs of the past. We should be equipping ourselves rather than tying our hands behind our backs."
The flames surrounding the room rose, their heat filling the room with a stifling air. Zuko's lungs tightened, sweat dripping down his brow.
"Insolence." Ozai spat. "You think I am inexperienced? Uneducated?"
Zuko paled. "Father, please, I meant no disrespect. I am your loyal son."
Ozai stood, his presence overpowering. "If it's so important for you to learn, then learn you shall, and suffering will be your teacher."
Zuko gasped back to reality, his hand clenched over his jacket pocket. Whoever had been speaking suddenly stopped.
"Sir?"
The room came into focus, the administrators watching him.
No support.
"Can I get you some water?"
All alone.
With a deep breath Zuko intentionally unlocked each finger of his right hand. He was not a teenager anymore. Taking his time, he straightened his jacket and sat up in the chair. "I'm fine," he said. "I grow weary of your babbling. Have Kei send me a copy of the responsibilities and I will review it myself. This meeting is over."
Not waiting for a response, Zuko stood and strode from the room.

Raiding the archives couldn't have been easier. It helped that Kya had mislabeled the will, which caused it to be filed with the productivity reports. She'd chosen Sokka's birthday. The aisle was the month, the shelf was the day, he found it in the third box he opened.
It wasn't until he was making his escape, the will tucked securely next to Katara's necklace inside his jacket, that things started to go wrong.
And it couldn't have been worse. It was Azula.
Her posture was leisured, leaning against the far wall gently peeling an apple with a knife. "Can't imagine what business you have in this part of the house, Zuzu."
"Mother expressed that she wants us to visit more," he said, straightening his jacket.
"I might believe you," she crooned, "were it not for the fact that that woman is currently in a healing session with some white-coated buffoons."
"The fact that she's busy doesn't change that I came to see her."
Azula took a bite of her peeled apple, chewing slowly. "I'm impressed. At least you've learned to lie better since I last saw you."
"Is there a point to this?" he attempted a drawl of indifference.
"It's your turn to lead the raids tomorrow," she said," but I told father I could handle it."
He spoke slowly, "Why would you do that?"
Her eyes flashed and a hint of a smirk curled along the edges of her lips. "I know it's you, Zuko."
"What?"
"You're the Blue Spirit, you've betrayed us all."
Zuko scowled. "Mai told you?"
"No, you just did." She smirked. "And now you're going to help me get something back."
"Why would I do that?" he demanded. "So I can spend the rest of my life with you holding my identity against me? I don't think so, Azula. I won't be your little lap dog."
She huffed dramatically and Zuko was happy for once to have seen through her lies. Then her lip twitched. "So you figured that out, huh?" she asked, taking another bite of her apple as if she didn't have a care in the world.
Her ease had Zuko's shoulders tensing.
"I thought perhaps a return to the company would tempt you, but since you aren't strong enough to look out for yourself then I guess I'll have to play to your other interests." Her smile was wicked. "Have you heard about the plans for your precious lady?"
He winced at the crunch of her next bite. It was a fight to keep his expression cold, to not pale at the thought of Azula getting her hands on Katara.
"My lady?" he asked.
"The healing spirit, the Painted Lady, the Village savior. Ring any bells?" she taunted, then shrugged. "Father intends to make an example out of her."
"What kind of example?" Zuko ground out.
"The kind that will stop others from trying what she did. The kind that will remind everyone who's really in charge of this island." Each statement hit him like a blow, but she wasn't done. "The kind that defines history books and will not be forgotten by anyone any time soon."
Zuko cringed. "Well, we have to catch her first."
To his surprise, she smiled. "Exactly, Zuzu, for once you're top of the class."
He narrowed his eyes on her.
Azula was practically preening with confidence. "And how happy father will be when I tell him I know exactly who this Painted Lady is."
Zuko's heart stopped. "You know who she is?"
"Of course, brother." She waved her hand. "You think those little water splashes would scare me off so easily? I saw that boy scare the hat right off her little, peasant head."
No.
"And how convenient for us that you're already so well acquainted with the girl."
No.
"She's homeless now, isn't she? I read her mother's file." Her teeth sank into the flesh of her fruit, her smile dripping juice. "Seems the apple will share the same fate as the tree."
"No!" Zuko shouted. His fists flamed, sparks fluttering throughout the room like schizophrenic fireflies.
Azula was smiling. "No?"
"Don't touch her," he snarled, all pretense gone.
"Haven't you learned by now?" she said, tossing the half-finished apple over her shoulder. "Caring for others is a weakness."
"What would you know about it?"
For a second her eyes narrowed and her nose crinkled in distaste. Then her flippancy returned. "Nothing, of course, but that's what allows me to see clearly." Azula was in his face now. "I've used sentiment to cripple men before. You'll be no different."
Zuko swallowed.
"Now. Do I have your attention? Good." She leaned forward to whisper in his ear, "Listen closely."

Any minute now. Katara was glued to the clock behind the counter of the tea shop, her blue gaze tracking the steady tick-tick-tick of the second hand moving around and around the face.
Sokka and Suki whispered quietly to one another at a small table nearby. Iroh busied himself with cleaning the kettles that had been used throughout the day. Katara briefly wondered who would watch over the Jasmine Dragon once he left. Perhaps Zuko would, as he'd no longer have a company to run...
Zuko had been gone for over four hours. Giving about an hour for travel, his time at the industry shouldn't have exceeded two.
He was late.
The fact was doing unpleasant things to her stomach.
Just when she was about to dawn her Painted Lady garb to storm the facility herself, the door to the Jasmine Dragon opened.
"Zuko!"
He looked up just in time to catch her oncoming figure as she threw her arms around his shoulders.
"You're back!" She held him tightly.
Hesitating slightly, Zuko's hands slowly rose to wrap just as firmly around her waist. His eyes closed of their own accord as he breathed in deeply.
"You're okay," she whispered. "You're here. You're safe. You're okay."
Rubbing his face against her shoulder, he remained quiet. Katara was patient, stroking a gentle hand down his back until his breathing steadied and he looked up at her.
Drawing her hand across his cheek she fought the urge to cry. His stare was flat, the muscles around his eyes tight with strain.
"What did they do to you?" she asked.
"I'm fine." He pulled her hand away, not meeting her gaze, and moved towards the counter where everyone else was sitting. Sokka and Suki watched with caution, their eyes shooting between Zuko and Katara. Not knowing what else to do, Katara shrugged helplessly at them and followed.
He sat at the bar, his head bowed but his back straight. Katara knew that look. He was broken, like the weight of the world was resting on his shoulders.
Suki was the first to break the tension. "So did you…y'know…do it?"
Zuko took a deep breath. "I got it."
"Perfect," Sokka said, "I'll message Toph to let her know to get her lawyer friend down here ASAP."
Just as Katara was about to say something, Iroh spoke up, "I hope you know, nephew, that I intend to bring you with me."
Zuko's head shot up. "What?"
The old man's eyes crinkled with his smile. "You think I would ignore such a body of wisdom? I agree, your father needs to be shut down, but…now that my son is gone-" he sucked in a deep breath.
"Don't say it," Zuko pleaded.
Iroh choked out- "I think of you as my own."
Zuko's expression was pained. "There's something I need to explain."
Ding. The bell over the door of the shop drew all their attention to the entrance.
"Well." Azula grinned. "Isn't this adorable."
Katara had only ever seen her through a grate in her prison door. The Phoenix daughter was dressed to the nines. Her shirt was similar to Zuko's, shimmering red silk embroidered with pure gold strands. Her jacket was an inky black, strewn across her shoulders like a royal cape. In her hair she wore a golden clip of embellished flame.
"What's she doing here?" Katara asked.
Glaring at his sister, Zuko's eyes were hard. "You were supposed to give me more time."
"How long does it take to say two words?" Azula drawled. "Good. Bye. See? Nothing to it."
Katara's brow shot together as she looked to Zuko. His fists were clenched at his sides, his shoulders rising and falling with his heavy breaths.
"What is she talking about?" she asked, her hand absently reaching towards him. Iroh had come out from behind the counter, Suki and Sokka standing with him.
Zuko growled out, "This wasn't the deal."
"Deal?" Katara screeched.
"Where's the scroll?" Azula asked. Her voice was calm, her expression almost bored.
The room was deadly quiet, hardly anyone daring to breathe as Zuko reached into his jacket and procured a wrapped scroll sealed with red wax. "This is what you want, isn't it?"
"It's what we both want, Zuko," Azula said. "Now come on, this is your chance to redeem yourself."
Calling out, Iroh advised, "The kind of redemption she offers is not for you."
"Why don't you let him decide?" Azula purred to Iroh, then she dared a step closer to her brother. "I need you, Zuko."
Watching his sister, his throat muscles tensed.
"Zuko-" Katara whispered.
Azula spoke over her. "At the end of this night you will have your title back. You will have father's love. His respect."
"I'm begging you," Iroh tried again. "It's time to start asking yourself the big questions. Who are you? What do you want?"
Turning slightly, he finally looked back at Katara. They caught eyes.
"Zuko, please," she said, her hand was out with her palm up. "Give us the scroll."
"Don't be a fool, brother." Azula's tone had turned sharp. She must have sensed the hesitation that Katara could see flashing in his eyes.
He looked from Katara to Azula.
"That man wants to take what's rightfully yours." Now she had his full attention her voice had returned to it's sickly, sweet nature. "Are you really willing to give that up? Are you willing to-" she smirked- "risk everything you worked so hard for?"
The hesitation was gone. He tossed the scroll to his sister who promptly set it aflame with her fist.
"No!" Katara screamed. She jumped forward with her hand still outstretched, but it was too late. Paper and core melted together, ash littering the clean tile of the shop's floor.
"No," she whimpered. He was facing away from her, his shoulders taught pulling his suit jacket tight across his back. "I thought you had changed!"
A beat of silence. "I have changed." Then he strode away to join Azula who had the audacity to smile at her over the flames of the burning document.
Katara moved to follow him but Sokka caught her around the waist and started to drag her back.
"Zuko!" she yelled.
Walking away from her, his gold embroidery glinted in the soft, yellow light. He didn't react when she screamed. He didn't react when she cried. He didn't slow, he didn't stop.
He didn't even look back.

With Azula beside him, Zuko walked purposely through the front doors of the Industry and strode with power down the marble hall.
"Wake my father," he called, his head held high. His fine shoes clicked against the stone, his suit swishing with the sound of expensive fabric. He would have to get used to this now.
"Sir?" Assistant Kei was having trouble keeping up with his long strides. "What's going on? Lord Ozai will not be happy to be disturbed at this hour."
"He will be when you tell him what it's about."
"And what, exactly, is this about?" Kei's squeaky question had Zuko stopping to face him.
"Tell him," he said, "I found the avatar."