The Blue Spirit ღ (Zuko x OC)

Chapter ⅩⅩⅠⅠ: Catching Breath

A few days later, Zuko had been feeling much better. He'd found a new pace and his conscious felt ... lighter. He was proud of his Uncle for his accomplishments, and was eager to see Nala, hoping to surprise her with an idea he'd had. She'd been there for him through a lot, and she had a part to play in his sunny outlook today. Being with her just felt ... right. It was the only thing that felt right. As he approached the campsite, he saw Ying step outside to his right.

"Oh, good morning, Lee." There was a ridiculous grin painted across Ying's face that stretched infectiously to Zuko's expression. He was starting to see what Nala had meant about him: a goofy grin as contagious as Pentapox.
"Good morning."
"You here to see the show?" Ying asked, causing Zuko's eyes to flick toward Nala who was dancing with Qigo, hanging off her every word as her mentor gave firm instruction. A smirk radiated from Ying's expression. "Come take a seat. I can tell you already love what you're seeing."

"I ... uh ...?" Trying his hardest to conceal the colour finding his cheeks, Zuko followed Ying to some cushions strewn about in the grass. As he sat, he found his eyes meeting Nala's, who suddenly seemed flustered.

"Good morning." Zuko said shyly.
"Good morning." Nala almost squeaked as Ying grabbed her by the shoulders and began to shake her out.

"We're going over the original scene Miss Akihiko made for you. I know you can do this." Ying reassured with a too-wide grin. Nala's eyes fell back to Zuko.
"... Practising ... now?"
"You're going to need to relax a lot more than that." Ying tilted her chin up to him. "Chin up, arms out."

Just as she did as she was told, Nala heard two pairs of feet sneak up behind her and felt the other girls' fingers jabbing her in the sides, making her squeal with giggles.

"Are you relaxed?" Chikaro's voice came.
"Yes, yes, please! No more, I'm relaxed." Nala pleaded and the girls relented, skipping away to practise their own routine.

Nala took a deep breath, her expression melting to the show facade Chikaro had taught her; a sultry and fanciful expression, her head tilted up toward Ying. He took a few steps away, then took his first stance as Nala took her's. She led, taking purposeful steps, her body drifting delicately over the grass like the clouds high above. Zuko watched in utter bewilderment as her form rolled and twisted. She became the wind, then the rain, then sadness itself within a few movements. Her arms swung like swords over Ying, her feet taking her into a twirl as Ying pressed himself into jagged shapes only just above the ground. They turned to each other and Zuko watched as they linked arms, then broke apart, only to pull each other back together again.

Ying let Nala's arm slide through his hands as she bent backward, dangling like a wilted flower over a stream. Zuko's eyes rolled over her form in these moments, letting them linger in his mind. Now, they'd reached a part Zuko recognised as Nala layed her forearms against Ying's, and he could see the muscles in both their arms flex as they counter-balanced each other. His lips were ajar marvelling at her incredible strength. He felt quietly anxious as Ying pushed her off his forearms, but relief flowed through him as Nala effortlessly, but dramatically, spun in a controlled fall to the ground and he questioned how he could have ever doubted her. Her bicep muscles tensing, Zuko watched her easily push herself back to her feet, then begin a dance of fury against Ying once again. He couldn't help finding the story they told in their movements incredibly familiar; a push and pull, coming together only to pull apart.

The finale was electric, Nala's movements complimented perfectly with the fury in her eyes. Zuko was fixated. He'd never seen anything like this from the dancers and entertainers in the palace growing up. There was a certain raw and unrefined way to their performance that was captivating, even as their battle drew to a close, their backs turned on one another and a moment of silence let the heat of the performance sink in.