The darkness offered him coverage; darting across the rooftops, the masked figure locked his sights upon another figure in the distance. He had heard rumors of her, this so-called "Painted Lady," a spirit who had supposedly long since left this realm. It had been many years since her last appearance, he had overheard a villager saying, but then she had suddenly appeared again out of the blue. He had caught sight of her earlier that evening, gliding along the river, a heavy mist blocking out any chance for him to truly see her. That had been hours ago. But now he had her in his sights- just at the edge of the dock, her mists rising up all around her.
Quietly, he approached, remaining on the roof of a small dock just above her. Peering down over it, he watched her, seeing now that she wasn't alone. There was a small family living beneath the roof of that dock, apparently without a home to call their own. It was a father, a mother, and a small child no older than five or six, from what he could tell. He could also see that their child was ill; he lay on a straw pallet, a thin, worn blanket pulled up to his trembling chin. The mother was crying softly, her words lost on him, though her tone obvious. Beside her, the man put his arm around her slim shoulders, overlooking his son as the Painted Lady leaned over him.
Reaching out, her hand brushed the child's temple, slender digits brushing hair from his sweaty brow. He was burning up with a relentless fever, one he'd been fighting for three days now. But no longer would he have to suffer. Closing her eyes, she willed the power to come, and a soft blue glow began to shine in the darkness. It took a few moments, but then she was sitting back, watching with a smile as the child blinked back into consciousness. His mother let out a yelp and as the boy sat up, she was throwing her arms around him, pulling him to her chest. "Mama, I can't breathe," the boy's voice came, muffled against his mother's chest. The woman half laughed, half sobbed as she released him, the feeling of relief washing over her entire being.
The Painted Lady rose up, silent as always, her smile brightening her somewhat sad features. "Wait," the man called as she turned to go, rising up, a hand halfway outstretched. She turned back, a hand reaching up to steady the hat upon her head, dark hair tumbling across her shoulders. "My son, you healed my son… How can I…" He broke off, shaking his head, tears spilling from his eyes as he fought to find the words. But the spirit was backing away, literally falling from the dock to stand upright on the water itself. And then she was gone, gliding away across the river, disappearing into the mists that rose all around her.
At once he was on the move again, following after her as she disappeared to the other side of the river. It was late now and the moon was high in the starry sky above; he skidded to a halt atop the roof closet to the bank she stood upon, watching with wide eyes as she pulled the obscuring hat from her head. She cast it aside, allowing it to flutter down to her rest at her feet, revealing to him a cascade of dark waves. She was shrouded in shadow, turned too far from his line of sight to catch her face. He craned his neck as the clouds shifted and a moonbeam fell upon her, illuminating her. It was then he realized she was not a spirit, but a young woman, her beauty taking his breath away. "Are you going to follow me all night?" Her soft vocals just barely reached him but when they did he started, realizing he was caught. Jumping down from the roof, he landed behind her, watching as she pivoted her entire body to face him.
Behind the mask, his eyes widened at the sight of her face, recognizing it behind the makeup. His mouth opened and he shut it, remembering just in time that he couldn't speak without giving his own identity away. "Hello, Zuko," she greeted a moment later, a small chuckle falling from her lips, arms folding across her chest as she pinned him with her beautiful eyes.
"How…" He began, tugging the mask from his face, his golden eyes wide with surprise. "How did you know it was me?" And then he remembered one of the first times he had donned the Blue Spirit's mask, when he had found Aang. Of course. "Oh…" He shook his head, answering his own question before she even had a chance to speak. "Aang told you."
Katara nodded, silent and still, her arms still folded across her chest. She had noticed him earlier that night, lurking over her as she left food at the door of a little old woman raising her grandson. Her eyes trailed over him, from the mask in his hand to the dual swords sheathed on his back. "What are you doing?" She asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. In all honesty, Zuko was the last person she wanted to have a conversation with. However, she did want to know what he was doing. At once, she could see him become flustered, his hand coming up to grip the back of his head, his weight shifting from one foot to the other. Had it been anyone else, she might have thought it endearing. But not him. Not him.
"I… Well… I…" Zuko turned away, unsure of what to say, considering the chances of her believing him were slim to none. So why bother? But as he turned back to face her, his eyes found hers, and he found he could not help but to speak and speak the truth. "I heard there were Fire Nation soldiers messing with this village, I came… To stop them." He watched her face closely, for any sign or flicker of expression, but her face remained impassive.
"In a mask?" She asked skeptically, arching a brow, reaching a hand up to brush hair from her face, smudging her makeup in the process. He sighed, seeing her point, but knew it was a waste to try and explain it to her. He knew she would never let go what had happened in Ba Sing Sei… But, did he blame her? Not really. Zuko shook his head, silent, turning as if he meant to go. "No… Wait…" She called out, unable to stop herself from speaking out. The look in his eyes… She couldn't shake the feeling that it gave her. "I guess the Prince of the Fire Nation shouldn't reveal himself to those he's trying to stop, especially those from his own kingdom." the unspoken words fell between them why now, why the change of heart?
"I have to do something." He shrugged, his eyes lowering, lids falling closed; the mask in his hand shook slightly as his emotions took root. He hated knowing what his father and the Fire Nation was doing. He hated knowing he was a part of it. "Anyways, what are you doing? By yourself no less." He gestured around them, to the silence, to the lack of her friends. Not even Aang bounced around her, as he so often did. In truth, he was surprised to find her alone.
"We passed by this village earlier…" She said softly, sadness tainting her lovely features. "I…" She shook her head, turning back to look across the river, to where the village slept, more at ease than they had been in years. "The Fire Nation cut them off, they're all starving… Sick… The village head told me people were dying at such a rate that the village would soon be wiped out." A shudder ran down her spine and she turned back to face him, her blue eyes bright in the moonlight. "I couldn't just go on and let that happen." She remembered the first time she had donned the Painted Lady's appearance, the first time she had done something like this for complete strangers. "I couldn't just turn my back on strangers in need."
Zuko blinked, new found respect for the waterbender rising up within him. "I didn't know you could heal illness," he stated, recalling her ability to heal from their time in Ba Sing Sei, when she had offered to try and heal his scar. He reached up, his hand absently touching the marred skin, well aware of her eyes on his face. "That's incredible." He turned back to look at the village, knowing without a doubt that she had made a difference. That she had done something unbelievable for the people she had never even met before. "I know you don't trust me, don't even like me…" He trailed off, shaking his head, unsure of why he was even mentioning such a thing. Especially right then. But then he pivoted, turning back to face her, only to find her already staring at him with those striking eyes of hers. "But thank you… For doing that. I wanted to help them too, but I can't do anything without resorting to violence… Without causing a fight with the soldiers." A small smile was blooming across her features, a blush arising beneath the makeup.
"It was nothing, really," she replied, shaking her head, a lock of dark hair falling across her features. She glanced upwards, to where the sun was beginning to peak over the horizon. Katara knew she needed to return to camp, the others would soon be waking and would know she was gone. "I have to go," she said, turning away from him, slipping the hat from her head, revealing her tousled dark locks that fell in waves down her back. Zuko found himself longing to reach out, to allow his fingertips to touch her hair, but she was turning back then, as if something was forcing her to linger. "Aang would tell you that you never have to resort to violence," she said, thinking of the Avatar and his never ending belief that violence was never the answer. Katara was inclined to believe him, but in truth, she knew better. She had grown up in a world of violence, of war, of even death. And so had Zuko. "But I'm here to tell you, we don't live in a perfect world. Some problems can't be fixed with words." Zuko kept his eyes upon hers, listening intently to the soft words she spoke. "I hope someday they can be though," a smile flashed and she lifted her hand in a gesture of goodbye, before she leapt back onto the water, gliding away into the mists of early morning.
Zuko watched until she had gone, until there was nothing left of her to see. But her words stayed with him, long after they had parted, long into the coming days. It was three days later that he sought them out, seeking their friendship in the temple of the air nomads. He knew she would never accept him, at least not outright, but their meeting that day had given him hope. For whatever reason, she was the only one he sought forgiveness from- perhaps because she too understood the pain of loss, or simply because she was the face of innocence in all of this. Either way, Zuko knew he would fight to become her friend, fight to be her ally as well as the Avatar's. and then someday he could tell her that she was the reason he had come to join them- because she had been right: words didn't always solve things, but he too hoped that someday they would.