Katara is teenaged, naïve, keeping a low profile to protect the Avatar when she hears two men discussing how each person could live a thousand lifetimes in worlds exactly the same but for a few small changes.
When she is in her twenties, Katara thinks she's made enough mistakes for all her thousand lifetimes.
There's so much she failed to do, so many half-lies. Sure, she helped to save the world, and still is. But now it's diplomacy. She can solve very little by donning black and dealing out vigilante justice.
When she's alone – and she is alone too many times – she thinks of the portrait she saw of the Fire Lady. She remembers how well she fit their Fire Nation disguise. She remembers who wears a scar for her.
She wonders if there's an alternate universe where things are different for them. Maybe she didn't find the Avatar until she was older, and he was too young to steal her heart so the future Fire Lord did. Maybe Mai didn't want him back when all the dust settled. Maybe there had never been a war, and she was just a sort of princess in the south, and their fathers wanted a good match, but Kya insisted on letting them be friends first-
She wonders what Mai thinks, when the Fire Lady sees that star forever etched on her husband.
She wonders if it's fair that she has to compete with the world for her own husband's attentions.
(One dark night she asks him this.
She screams at him, instead of telling him she's pregnant.
He sits alone and mopes, rather than celebrate their first baby girl.
Even when she's forgiven him, she doesn't mention their daughter will bend water.
She's not ready to see that inevitable disappointment.)
But when he holds her, calls her "My Forever Girl," Katara thinks this lifetime has its own joys.
When she is in her thirties and forties, Katara hopes there is a lifetime where she gets some peace and rest.
There are two children to chase about the house while trying to teach them right from wrong. No matter what 'Uncle' Sokka says, she's not as 'stick-in-the-mud' about it as she was when she was fourteen.
No, she's learned as every mother must to have grace under pressure. She can deliver punishments firmly now, without any exasperated sighs. She smiles when Kya or Bumi bring her trouble, for she's learned to dip and bend when dealing with children like she was waterbending. Using all the love in her heart, she teaches them to be strong and independent.
It's all she can do to make up for what they've already lost.
Kya will be an impressive bender, just like her mother. But over her head will hang those four words: 'just like her mother.'
Bumi, her brave soldier, stands as a lonely little boy. He thinks himself ordinary, though in his family he's the unique one. Katara watches her son, and worries. He will always work twice as hard as his siblings, and everyone he knows for that matter, without being asked. She can already see he thinks himself less. Katara doesn't know how to tell Bumi that he's already made himself more.
For her youngest son, Katara worries the most. Tenzin is the airbender his father prayed for every night. He will be bent underneath the weight of that burden for as long as he breathes. He's too young to see how he's become the center of his father's world. Tenzin doesn't realize that his father is dividing his time between caring for the whole world, loving his family to the depths of his soul, and focusing on Tenzin.
She can't reach her youngest son, though he loves her dearly. His eyes are too full of stars that shine for his father. And though they love her, she will never be enough for her other children.
She'll run herself ragged to try.
When she is in her fifties and sixties, Katara thinks of the lifetimes where they lost.
She watches the young, handsome Iroh II start and finish military school, caught in-between the generations of her children and theirs.
As he receives honors, she thinks of worlds where he was never born. She thinks of lifetimes where the North fell and the Earth Kingdom was scorched into black nothingness.
She shudders.
She thanks the spirits for this lifetime, as one son becomes a respected general and the other a father.
When she is in her seventies, Katara does not care for other lifetimes.
She trains a young girl to bend her element once more, and does not think of other worlds.
She looks into her student's eyes and sees only youth.
What do other lifetimes matter, when in this one her husband, Aang, is dead and reborn as her student?
The two sit in companionable silence and sip tea.
They have both lost much, standing alone without sibling, spouse, or parent. Treasured confidants are long gone, as are beloved friends. These two alone are left, in their age, to sit separated by distance as their children change the world with no real understanding of how the world came to be as it was when they were born.
Of course, these two are old enough to know they have never really understood the circumstances they changed. They knew the how, but never understood.
"You have improved in brewing tea."
His lips twitch, and she wishes he would smirk. It might make him look younger, never mind the white hair.
"Uncle alone would not be shocked at that statement. Finally, his blood has shown through."
He does smirk, and she counts it a victory.
"How is the Jasmine Dragon?"
"It could use a few more waitresses."
"Apologies, I stopped being some flirty young thing a long time ago."
"Oh no, please apply. You might finally drive away some uncultured youths only there for the girls."
"There was once an uncultured youth only there for girls who ended up owning the place, if I remember correctly."
"Ah, but I was after those two girls for very different reasons, once I learned they were in the city."
She smiles over the rim of her teacup, having long since learned the details from the other side of the chase. Now, she just uses past ignorance to goad him.
The sun light is lovely, highlighting the cityscape. The distance between them has finally been crossed, thanks to her student. The two sit in the city they built with their friends and watch the world pass by.
"Is there anything you would change?" he asks. It is a question that ends a long silence, but it does not come suddenly or abruptly.
She turns to meet his eyes.
With the weight of decades, of seeing the whole world change around her, Waterbending Master Katara meets the gaze Former Fire Lord Zuko. She does not back down (like she ever did when faced with him) from the myriad of questions that rest in his amber eyes.
He gives no parameters for his question, no clarification. He leaves the words wide open for her to interpret and twist as she desires.
When she is old and has enough wisdom to know she is not wise, Katara is not bothered by the thought of other worlds, alternate universes, or differently lived lifetimes. While a heart once stopped will rarely beat again, many lives can be lived in the time she has taken to die.
"No."