when it rains, it pours | zuko

seven ; repress

It was Sokka who had found him. 

Along the street lost in his grief over Yue's transgression, Sokka had walked into an unmoving sack — almost stepped on him — lying on the icy floor, littered with soot and char from the fire. And although Raiu was in a state of unconsciousness, his eyes were open — so you could imagine the shock and horror that overcame Sokka when he discovered the body.

It was Katara who had healed him, not that there was much to heal. The lightning zap was a minor shock, meant to immobolise and shouldn't have had any lasting effects. But then again, some wounds ran deep, deep enough to render physical healing redundant.

Raiu could still feel the chill, could still envision the blurry memory that seemed to replay in his mind over and over. For the rest of the day, he stayed like that, sapped of energy and life and too drained to move a muscle. Yagoda had diagnosed him, when he first arrived at the North Pole, with amnesia, and Raiu had never been that awfully curious about why or how or what. So as the years passed and nothing came into remembrance, he had made peace with the fact that he'd never regain that part of his past.

But that was the first memory he recovered, definitely not pleasant, and definitely not the last.

The memory haunted him, its gray tendrils creeping over his vision. His heart felt like lead and swallowing his dry and ashy throat became a chore. Whenever he caught a reflection of himself — the mirror, the steaming tea, in his friends' concerned gazes — he felt like clawing away at his skin. 

Master Paku had fussed over him round the clock, periodically stopping by the tent — where he temporarily stayed with the Gaang as Katara watched over his condition — amidst his duties.

"I've always said you were too arrogant! Now look what happened!" Master Paku wringed the wet towel dry and returning it to its place on Raiu's forehead. "I look away one moment and you get yourself into this trouble."

"You don't have to look after me, I'm fine," Raiu groaned in exasperation. "It's not even a fever I don't need this towel."

Next thing he knew, his vision went dark as something cold and slimy was deposited atop his eyes.

"Cucumbers," Master Paku grumbled. "And wear these feet warmers, and put on this blanket."

And just like that, Raiu was gift wrapped as a breakfast burrito.

Noticing the relieved tensions, which may or may not have been achieved by the burrito wrapping, Aang took this chance to ask Raiu the burning question. "Are you feeling better? Do you want to talk about it?"

Master Paku paused in his fussing about, more than curious to find out, but also concerned about pushing the matter into sensitive waters.

"I'm fine nothing really happened. The old man that was with Zuko electrocuted me just a little bit — and I'm fine, physically. On a normal day, it would've been an itch, a scratch." Raiu twisted in his burrito, "But that day, the pain triggered a bad memory."

They all regarded him with pinched faces, concern overriding their expression, even Sokka in spite of his own grief, cared about Raiu's predicament.

"Ugh, I don't want to talk about it. It was just... unexpected and... I didn't know how to react." The silence stretched out.

"Raiu, I know it may not always be obvious, but I care about you, I'm your fa- guardian," said Master Paku tenderly, as he stroked the silver hair peeking out from underneath the blanket. "I'd be concerned even if it were a small scratch or a threat to your life. So you don't have to downplay the pain that you go through."