Disclaimer: AtLA is property of VIACOM and Nickelodeon. No profit is made from this story. Big thanks to Bryke for providing such a safe - although probably not at my level - obession for people worldwide.

Spoilers: Although none of it is in-your-face Season Three events are given away here.

Notes: This is first in what will hopefully be the 100 Zutara challenge. This is more of a challenge for me than anything else, I'll be using multiple writing styles and POVs. The purpose of Dying Embers, for me, is to expand on my abilites as a writer, and all constructive criticism will be greatly appreciated.

Setting: Post Western Air Temple.

'Everything becomes a little different as soon as it is spoken out loud.'

- Hermann Hesse

She is sitting on the ground, cross-legged, completely and utterly ignoring him. Her eyes – blue as the sky, in his opinion – are steadily looking ahead, her jaw set, back straight as can be. He knows that she refuses to let her guard down in front of him, refuses to admit that things between them have yet again changed, refuses to admit that maybe there is hope for this 'relationship' of theirs.

Of course, ever since he first joined 'their side', they have never spent any time together – alone. Whenever they talk, her voice is always cold and hostile, and he will back away and stay in the shadows. He's the Avatar's firebending instructor and nothing else.

There is the steady drumming of rain on the roof. He doesn't understand why Aang wants to go flying on Appa now of all times, here of all places. They have had nothing of the outside world for days, for all they know the Fire Nation is scouring every corner of the globe for the Avatar and his friends. He of should people should know just how easy that can be – from brutal experience.

Minutes pass in silence, he doesn't dare to speak. Instead he wonders … what if it had been his sister, the blue-fire demon, he had attacked instead of the Avatar? What would have happened between them after that? Would the invasion have worked out after all? For a while – but a long time in his mind's eye – he ponders, getting lost in the land of possibility that never came.

Then she makes a sound, at a first he isn't sure what it is. Then it happens again, and there is no denying it: Katara is crying.

Unsure of what to do, he glances her way. Instead of meeting blue-eyed hostility, he just sees giant wells of pain. Without thinking, because, as Uncle says, he never does, he walks across the temple floor to her side, crouches onto his knees, and asks what's wrong. She turns away from him, furiously wiping her eyes. And although he's telling himself that what she did was expected, a part of him is still slightly hurt.

Sighing, he himself turns away from her and stares at the wall. If she doesn't want to talk, fine. It's not his problem that she's crying for absolutely no reason. But then he realizes that he's lied to himself because he does know the reason, or at least a part of it. He knows that he is no mind-reader, but a part of him knows that she's angry and hurt because of what he did – and so is everyone else, in their own way. The only one who isn't really holding anything against him is Toph, and for that he is grateful.

She is full-on sobbing now, and he can't help but look. Her face is buried in her hands, knees drawn up to her chin. She looks up and their eyes meet for a second – hers are red and puffy, and her hands are shaking. He doesn't say anything because he now knows that he isn't allowed to say anything to her. But nevertheless, he stays by her side because it seems like the right thing to do.

Since when did you know the difference between right and wrong, Zuzu?

The sobs suddenly stop, as if cut off.

He asks if he can do anything to help, because that's all he feels he can do, all the while not expecting an answer.

To his surprise, her eyes meet his own.

And then she says something and there is the spoken word – it does not matter what she says, because all of a sudden he knows that there might be hope for this distorted mess known as their relationship after all.

'I'm sorry.'

Notes: Why was Katara crying, you may ask? I like to think that she was really angry at Zuko, more than anything else. From her POV, this was the guy that betrayed her in more ways than one - she's tried to shove aside all this hurt and anger she's been feeling, and now that he's here and they're alone together she has to face it.
Hope that helps.