Chapter 1: Plain and Simple
Edited and Updated on 11/4/2014
Zuko roamed the streets of Ba Sing Se. He was angry because he could be and bored because he had exhausted any appealing activities and he was looking anxiously for something to fill his day. Ever since their relocation, he's spent his days inside their poor excuse for an apartment, drinking tea and wondering how the hell he'd gotten here. It had only been a few months ago that he'd been traveling the seas, searching for his destiny and coming closer and closer to regaining his honor and no he was a filthy peasant, roaming the streets like he was nothing.
He was just about to resolve to heading back to the house when he saw a small crowd gathered around a fountain, upbeat mandolin music filling the air as he approached and pushed through the crowd of mostly men to see what exactly it was that had everyone so enthralled.
Dancing around the fountain was a caramel skinned young women, twirling and gyrating gracefully, a coy smirk on her lips as she cut her eyes at the closest men watching her. Her top was short sleeved and stopped just at her rib cage, revealing a defined abdomen and gently muscled arms, intricate and brightly colored dragon tattoos flying from her wrist, around her biceps and sides. With every swish of her hips, the coins on her skirt jingled and the coins tossed into mandolin players' hat joined the chorus. As the music swelled, a pillar of stone raised up from the ground, throwing her into the air. She tucked into a ball and flipped several times before landing in a split, hands triumphantly above her head. The young man playing the mandolin grinned as the crowd cheered and tossed a few more coins into the hat. The girl stood quickly, brushing herself off as she walked over to the young man.
"Take the money back. I'll meet you tonight," she said.
"Sure thing," he responded as he dumped the contents of the hat into a bag and placed both on his head, leaving her to face the crowd with a wink.
The girl turned to the crowd, biting her lip and sighing as she began to push through.
"I'm sorry guys. I gotta go." She said quietly, her fake smile twitching and faltering with discomfort.
"Come on sexy."
"Don't be so cold."
"Where you headed?"
She was met with the pathetic pleas of horny teenaged boys and charming older men, though she paid no mind to them, escaping the crowd quickly. She skittered off down an alleyway and the crowd dispersed, the object of their attention now old news. Zuko sighed, thinking to himself that he'd never see her again. He didn't care really, but that brief moment of peace, pleasure and entertainment would be missed. He quickly shook the feeling off and began to roam the streets once more. He walked alone for an hour when he heard the distinctive pop of palm on flesh as he walked past an alleyway.
"Please! Please! I wanna go back. I d-don't- I can't- j-just please." The desperate and horrified cries of a girl followed suit.
"You're coming with me. You're gonna be my little servant the whole ride to the colonies and once I get the bounty, I'll be out of your hair," the male voice sneered. Zuko stopped dead in his tacks, the sound of a gruff older man's taunting voice bringing a rare feeling of sympathy to whoever was at his hand.
"Crico please! I don't wanna go please!" She was struggling to take a breath.
"The Great Dragon reduced to a common begging slut." There was a rush of air, the distinctive noise of a large fire being lit.
"No! No Crico please don't!"
Unable to ignore the sounds of a helpless girl about to be burned, Zuko stepped into the alley way.
"Leave the girl alone." A tall man dressed in black looked up from the girl huddled on the ground, a smirk playing on his face as he extinguished the fire whip in his hands.
"Who the hell are you?" he demanded.
"It doesn't matter. Leave her alone." Zuko drew his swords and the man faltered slightly. He inhaled deeply and crossed his arms, sizing Zuko up. With a sigh, he looked down at the girl.
"I'll find you..." he growled to the girl in the purple top and coined skirt. With one last glare at the teenaged boy he turned and stormed from the alleyway.
The girl propped herself up against the brick wall, clutching her chest. "T-thanks. I-" She looked up to find her savior gone and dropped her head against the wall, trying to catch her breath.
"Kunai wait! Let us help you!" The young man who'd only hours earlier played the mandolin for his friend cried out, watching her walk away in the rain.
"Come on Girly! This wasn't out fault." A petite young woman grabbed the dancer's arm.
She wrenched her arm away easily. "No! You were supposed to look out for me. But you know what, it doesn't matter now. I'm. Done." She growled through gritted teeth. To the chorus of many protests, she pushed forward, leaving the woods and leaving the camp for good, unwelcome tears pooling in her eyes. She knew she needed medical attention, that her wounds were beyond her own healing capabilities yet she pushed forward, anger, pride and betrayal fueling her adrenalin. The rain began to poor down on her and every drop stung whether it hit a bruise or a burn. She looked up at where the moon was supposed to be. A lunar eclipse. In any normal circumstance she would have prayed for rain when her wounds were this bad but with no power behind her, the rain simply mocked her pain. She limped through the city streets aimlessly. In any other place, she stood some chance of finding a sympathizer with the cause, a spy or someone who'd simply outgrown the militia lifestyle but there was no war in Ba Sing Se and she was utterly alone. Heavy depression set into her chest to replace the adrenaline and she became aware of the weakness in her muscles, the tingling in her fingertips. She placed her palm against her back, wincing at the sting and scowling as she brought her hand around, covered in deep red before it was washed away into the streets. You won't pass out. You won't pass out. Her will did nothing to keep her legs from buckling beneath her. She barely caught herself from falling face first into the cobblestone. She tried to lift herself up and when her arms refused to cooperate, she fell back down with a sigh of defeat. She should have died long ago and while this was not nearly as grand as she'd hoped, it was okay.
"Are you ok…" a voice seemed to echo. She was face down and all she could do was groan as an answer. She was lifted and soon enough being carried in the arms of a stranger. She could care less. So I guess I won't be dying she though neutrally before relaxing into his arms and giving in to unconsciousness.
Zuko carried her back to the house. What would his Uncle think? He went out to get food and came back with an unconscious bleeding girl. None of this made sense. He looked her over, noticing she was the same girl he'd seen dancing blissfully by the fountain, endangered I the alleyway. He kicked open the door to their humbled house.
"Uncle!" he called. Iroh looked up.
"Who is this?" Iroh rushed over to his nephew, staring in confusion at the lifeless form in his arms.
"I found her in an alley way. She looks bad." Zuko said flatly. Iroh nodded.
"Lie her down." He instructed, pointing to his cot. Zuko nodded, placing her gingery onto the bed. Iroh examined her, rolling her over to her side. A look of obvious disgust crossed his face as he pushed aside the ripped, singed and bloody fabric on the back of her shirt.
"This was caused by fire whips. She was beaten badly which must have agitated the wounds." He rummaged through his cupboard, pulling out gauze and healing herbs.
"There are some special tea leaves in the far left cupboard. They have healing properties that will be essential to her recovery." Zuko nodded and went to the cupboard, throwing the odd bag of leaves and herbs together in the pot.
"She looks familiar." Iroh murmured.
Zuko nodded. "She's a street dancer."
"Yes. I've seen her before."
Zuko rolled his eyes. Nasty old man. Zuko brought over the tea just as Iroh finished wrapping her wounds. Iroh rolled the girl to her back, tilting her head up. She let out a groan, dancing on the edges of consciousness. He brought the tea to her lips.
"You must drink this." She groaned but allowed him to put the cup to her lips, sipping weakly. He laid her back down.
"What do we with her?" Zuko asked.
"We wait until she is well. Then we can return her to wherever she belongs." Iroh said.
"But Uncle! We can't afford to have some random girl in our house!" Zuko exploded, clenching his fists. "What is she finds something out?!"
"We cannot simply leave her to die. She is young, Zuko. I am sure she will be back on her feet before she has the time." Iroh said.
Zuko growled and sat down with a humph. He looked at the sleeping girl. She's would be trouble for sure.
Zuko stared at her intently. He had been forced to watch her while Iroh went out. She still hadn't completely awoken yet and now she slept peacefully on her side, head pillowed on her hands. He had to admit, she was rather pretty. Her face was round with soft edges, full lips and heavy lidded eyes. Her hair was black and held with tiny and intricate braids. His thoughts were interrupted by a tiny moan. Zuko stiffened as her eyes began to flutter open. He was struck by the first sight of her eyes, wide and light lilac.
"Damn," she breathed, blinking several times before her eyes focusing on Zuko. "Where am I?"
"You're at me and my Uncles house. I found you in the street." Zuko said, looking away.
She sighed as the memories poured in slowly. "You saved me in the alley from Crico, "she said quietly.
"If Crico was the man who was beating you then yeah."
She pushed herself up, scowling as the movement pulled at her wounds "You were at the show too."
"Yeah. I... Uh saw you."
"You stood out," she said with a smirk.
Zuko grimaced and turned his head so his scar wasn't facing her.
She rolled her eyes and snorted. "That's not what I meant. I mean you were the only one not groping at me," she said.
"Oh," Zuko said simply and not entirely believing her.
"What's your name?" she asked gently despite the gravel in her voice.
Zuko sighed, his attempts at being anti-social failing. "Li." Zuko said flatly.
"Kunai," she said and smiled. The edges of Zuko's lips twisted upwards despite himself. Iroh came through the door, holding handfuls of groceries.
"Look who's awake," he said happily, setting the bags down. "What is your name, young lady?"
"Kunai. My names Kunai. Thanks for taking me in."
"Do not thank me. Thank my nephew. He is the one who brought you here." Iroh said. Zuko surprised himself as he blushed and looked down.
"Now why don't we get you something to eat," Iroh said.
"I don't want to be any trouble. I can pay you back if-"
"Oh nonsense. You are a guest," Iroh said, running to the kitchen to begin cooking.
"Tell me about yourself," he asked.
"You're refugees?" Kunai responded, narrowing her eyes.
"Something like that," Zuko replied slowly, matching her suspicious glare.
"What my nephew means is that we have just recently arrived and are trying to start a new life, just as everyone else is," Iroh said.
Kunai shrugged in satisfaction. "I live... lived with the Dragons militia," she said carefully. Zuko's good eye widened.
"The Dragons? The most notorious militia in the world?" he asked.
Kunai nodded. "That's the one. I grew up with them, lived with them, fought with them from the colonies to Omashu," she said, waving her hand lazily. Iroh glanced at her and he stirred the soup.
"You say you used to live there?" he asked.
"I left them... how long have I been out?" she asked.
"Three days," Zuko said.
"Then it's been three days since I left them," she said with a deep sighed. She pinched the bridge of her nose. "You burn out on that life real quick."
"How did you get injured?" Zuko asked, receiving a glare from Iroh that could strike fear into the heart of anyone.
Kunai's nostrils flared and she looked up at him, jaw set tight. "Occupational hazard."
"Well, with some time I'm sure you will return to health," Iroh said, handing Kunai a bowl of soup. They ate in pregnant silence for some time.
"Can I have some water?" she finally asked.
"Why don't I make you some tea?" Iroh asked. Kunai shook her head.
"I'm not going to drink it," she said, not seeing their confusion as she slowly pulled off her bandages. Iroh nodded and gave her a small bowl.
"Thanks." She bit her lip as she pulled off the soiled bandages from her wounds. She dipped her hand in the bowl, drawing the water into a glove on her hand. She arched her back and hissed as she placed her hand on the wound. The water began to glow and the blue tendrils spread out over her wounds, stitching the flesh back together. With a satisfied sigh she pulled the murky water away and flicked it out the open window. Both men gaped at her, Zuko being the first to speak.
"I thought you were an earthbender!" he said loudly.
Kunai chuckled softly. "Sorry. I tend to forget everyone doesn't know who I am." She crossed her arm over her chest, pointing to the orange dragon on her forearm, the shortest one that stood out among the other grander ones. "They call me the Great Dragon. I was… eight year old when I first found out I could bend all the elements. I mean, my air bending is piss poor but it's there."
Silence.
"But how...why...what!" Zuko sputtered.
Kunai snorted. "I love the reactions," she said dryly to herself. "I'm not the Avatar. I had a couple dreams when I was younger where this man came to me and told me it was all part of my destiny. Besides, even before the new Avatar came along, it couldn't have been me. The next Avatar would be pure water tribe."
"Have you ever met the Avatar?" Zuko asked excitedly.
Kunai furrowed her brow. "No. Only heard about him. Why?"
"Oh it's nothing. My nephew is quite curious about the Avatar," Iroh said kindly to her.
Kunai shrugged. "Alright. Where can I change? I should probably get out of these clothes, change my bandages."
"Of course. Nephew." Iroh motioned for Zuko to follow him into the other room, sliding the door quietly behind them.
"What are you doing?" Iroh whispered harshly.
"Nothing! Don't pretend like you didn't want to know!" he whispered back.
"This is beyond us, Zuko! Such ability must have great purpose, purpose even she does not know. She is a guest in our home and should be treated with hospitality, not interrogation." Iroh replied.
"She could-" Zuko began through grit teeth
"She is a guest," Iroh repeated. "She is just a child and needs to rest." Iroh said.
Zuko groaned. "Fine," he grumped and leaned against the wall.
"I'm decent," Kunai said and tapped on the door.
Zuko stormed out of the door, nearly running into Kunai who chuckled and stumbled back a few steps. "In a rush?"
Iroh placed his hands on her shoulders gently. "You should get some rest. You need to take care of yourself."
"I-" Kunai sighed in resignation. "Alright. Thanks so much for being so nice to me," she said as she eased herself back onto the cot, minding her still tight wounds and bruises.
"It is our pleasure," Iroh said as Zuko stormed out of the door.
"Kunai, just breathe." Her best friend Calila soothed, cradling the young girl's head in her lap. Kunai shook her head.
"It hurts! It hurts so bad!" she squealed, writhing on the floor of the tent. The 16 year old sighed and dabbed her younger friends head with a cold towel.
"The healers will be back in a little. You're ok…" she lied.
"No… No!" Kunai bemoaned. Another wave of pain rippled through her body and a squeal tore through her throat.
"Just make it stop!" She kicked her legs and rolled around in the puddle of blood slowly forming.
"It hurts!"
Kunai sat straight up, thrust awake by a vivid nightmare. She ran her fingers through her hair, dropping her head into her hands as she struggled to catch her breath. That wasn't a night she liked to think of along with a million others from when she was fourteen. She slowly pulled herself to her feet, the dim light of a lantern, illuminating a path to a porch outside. She followed the lighted path, surprised to see Zuko's shaded silhouette.
"Why are you up? You should be resting" he said quietly and almost cold.
"Couldn't sleep. You?" she asked.
"Me neither."
Kunai nodded and looked out at what by day was a bustling city filled with light was now desolate and dark. Not a single soul stirred. The two stood there in an awkward silence, Zuko staring out at the city and Kunai idly examining her nails.
"So your real names Zuko?" she asked.
Zuko turned sharply to her, eyes wide. "How did you know that?" he barked, taking a step towards her.
Kunai held her hands up and smiled. "Hey, I'm not new to this. I overheard you talking to your uncle. The only reason I'm going by my real name is that bounty hunters wouldn't dare bother me here. I just wanted to know." Zuko faltered, the smirk on her lips and the kind glint in her eyes bringing him down from his anger. He stepped away from her and turned back to face the empty streets.
"Don't call me that."
"Li it is."
Kunai nodded and spoke before another pregnant pause could set in. "So how old are you?"
"I just turned seventeen," Zuko said looking down at her. She was shorter than him by several inches but her presence, head tilted up, arms crossed, made up for it.
"I'm sixteen. Been in the game ten years."
"The game?" Zuko asked.
Kunai chuckled. "With the militia. Ten years since the war got to me and I've been kicking ass and taking name ever since."
Zuko didn't quite smile but for a moment, it seemed like his tough exterior cracked for a moment. "Where will you go?" Zuko asked.
Kunai clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "The militia left already and I… I'm done with that life. I have an idea but..." she trailed off. She swallowed and ran her fingers through her hair. "I have to figure some stuff out."
"You… you can stay here I guess," he said distantly. This was a stupid idea. He had no plans of starting a life here and inviting strange girls into his house was trouble. Then again, she wasn't like the other girls he'd met affected by the war. She had questions but wasn't overly curious. She could only do so much harm.
"Thanks," Kunai said incredulously. "Honestly, it means a lot. I don't get a lot of hospitality out of strangers."
Zuko nodded understandingly. "It's cold. You should go back inside," Zuko instructed.
Kunai nodded and headed back inside, sparing him a glance over her shoulder. He was built like a fighter, slim and toned as far as she could see and that scar had to have a campfire worthy story. He was a tough one but he was good deep down. She liked him.
A week passed slowly and Kunai's health quickly turned for the better. While Iroh and Zuko worked, she stayed home and cleaned and cooked for them. Each dish had a story of how she learned them, each one a product of Fire Nation colonial food and desperation. While Iroh always had more questions about her and her old life, Zuko studiously avoided long conversations with her. He didn't want to start a life here.
It was early one morning and Zuko awoke with sun as usual. As he stood he realized Kunai was gone for her cot that had, against his will and sense of personal space, been moved into his room. He searched the house to no avail. He went out to the empty lot behind their house to find her doing pushups, sweat dripping from her chin.
"Morning," she grunted as she finished her 10th set of 10. She pushed herself up onto her haunches and released a satisfied breath.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Working out," she said as-a-matter-of-factly, standing up and wiping the sweat off her brow.
"For what?" Zuko asked, cocking an eyebrow.
Kunai shrugged. "I was restless so I figured I might as well do my usual morning routine. Fought all the time with the militia."
Zuko smirked slightly. "You?" He'd expected her to be a tag along with the group, a refugee they'd taken in because of her unique abilities.
Kunai rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips. "Don't be so condescending. Yes me. Since I was eleven or twelve. With my group, I was the muscle," she said in a playfully sassy tone as she flexed her bicep that Zuko had to admit was rather impressive. In fact, examining her now, her slightly stocky hourglass was formed with muscle, strong but soft unlike the sharp and unattractive weapon like bodies of the female soldiers from the fire nation.
"Yeah. Right," he said, turning to leave.
"Don't believe me? Come at me!" she challenged.
Zuko turned. "I'm not going to fight you."
Kunai chuckled. "Why? You scared?" she teased, her eyes brightening.
"Scared I might hurt you." Zuko said, a smirk playing on his lips.
"I'm the Great Dragon. You'll be lucky to get a hit in," she said and pursed her lips, sitting in her hip.
In a mixture of pride and curiosity, Zuko resigned. "Fine. No bending. Hand to hand to keep it fair. Plus if anyone sees you…" Zuko said. Kunai nodded and cracked her knuckles. She spread her legs, lowering into a fighting stance and staring daggers at him, daring him to make the first move. Zuko lunged into a deep kick which she carefully evaded, jumping into the air and aiming at his side with her foot. Zuko caught her leg, flipping her off of him. She rolled over into a crouch and he smirked at her features, gently twisted into a sinister smile and her violet eyes bright with fire. She swept kicked him, knocking him off balance. She took advantage of it and jumped into the air, pouncing on him and pinning his arms above his head. She cocked her fist back and smiled, slowly bringing it down and tapping his neck.
"Crushed your windpipe," she chirped smugly.
"Hey let me up! Let me up!" he said, trying to push her off him. She pressed him down harder.
"No. You gotta answer a question first," she said, her face suddenly turning serious.
"What?" he demanded.
"Are you Fire Nation?" she asked.
Zuko grimaced and knocked her off unceremoniously, standing up quickly. "How do you know that?" he roared.
Kunai scowled up at him. "Calm the fuck down. I already suspected it with the gold eyes and the pale skin and all. But fighting with you? I know what fighting a firebender feels like. Now help me up," she demanded. Zuko sighed and held out his hand, tightening slightly when he felt a spark as she gently placed her hand in his. Kunai bit her lip as she had felt it to. Zuko quickly pulled her to her feet and relinquished her hand awkwardly.
"Don't worry. Why do you think The Dragons have that name? They started out in the colonies. I'm half Fire Nation." She placed a hand over her chest and smiled. "It doesn't matter to me. I just wanted to know."
Zuko was staring at her in shock and relief when Iroh came out into the yard, holding a tray of tea. "Good morning you two." Iroh said.
"Morning." They said in unison each taking a cup.
"She knows we're Fire Nation, Uncle." Zuko said flatly. Iroh's mouth fell open and Kunai waved her hands dismissively.
"Don't worry. I don't plan on telling anyone. Deserters or refugees? "she asked, sipping her tea innocently.
"Both, you could say," Iroh said.
Kunai smiled from behind her cup. "I've only ever known a few firebenders personally. The military got the benders before we could," Kunai said nonchalantly.
"How many have you known?" Iroh inquired.
"Four. Most of them were good people. One of them was this kid, Shun. He's only twelve or something and I trained him. Miss that kid," she sighed nostalgically and Zuko watched her, smiling slightly unaware of Iroh watching him.
"I shall be right back," Iroh said, collecting their empty cups and scurrying back in the house.
Kunai bowed to Zuko. "It was an honor to face a worthy opponent," she said sincerely.
Zuko bowed back. "But you beat me."
Kunai shrugged. "Well if we could have used bending I bet it would have taken a lot longer to kick your ass," she laughed.
Zuko frowned at first but his grimace slowly softened as he realized she meant no insult. "Yeah right. You don't have any idea how good of a firebender I am," he joked.
"Well you'll have to prove it to me some time," she said, walking away from him, swinging her hips with an effortless grace. Zuko shook his head, ridding any thoughts of her pure or impure. Whoever she was, whatever she wanted, he had bigger things to attend to.