It was amazing how quickly a person's eyes could turn, from friendly warmth to suspicion to hatred, faster than a flicker of fire. Zuko could see it when Jet stormed the tea shop, whirlpool of betrayal and hatred, and maybe he deserved it, just a little. Maybe. He could have left Jet to the guards that had been dining there, and perhaps that would have been wiser, but he'd been itching for action.

And perhaps he wanted to stand up for himself, and perhaps it was a sign of respect to Jet too, just a little.

But it was quickly washed away in the flurry of dancing blades, and he just wanted his destiny again, to prove his power, gain solid footing in Ba Sing Se to reach for the future that seemed so far away. Let a fool destroy it? He'd be a fool himself, and that he was not. He could admit to himself though, that he was enjoying the fight, being goaded; here, he was the one in control.

He lost that control at the news of the Avatar, and if it seemed like a bitter parody of the relationship between Jet and he, he ignored the fact. (He was not his uncle; he had greater dreams than that of a simple tea shop.)

That he let his uncle persuade him later that night to turn away, he wondered whether he'd appreciate it someday or whether he'd never forgive himself for it. And there had been something else tugging there too, a feeling of foreboding, but he turned his back. It wasn't his business now.

He just had to convince himself of it.