title: the bitter taste of what could have been
summary: the words came out tainted on her lips, and they both felt the suffocating air around them that spoke of their past and what could have been.
notes: okay this is really kind of depressing, and i'm actually really sorry about that because i love them together. but i decided to write something relatively canon, and they do have a lot going against them. sorry they're kind of ooc too, i haven't written them in over a year.
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Two burgundy-clad kids in short sleeves and long pants tumbled across the stifling hillside, toy swords clutched in their hands and laughter bubbling through mock-ferocious words.
"God, remember when we were that young?"
She let an exasperated sigh escape her mouth, but there was a knowing light sparkling in her eyes. The sun caught the precious water stones that were embedded across the robes which the water tribe lady had let slide to her elbows, exposing tanned shoulder skin to the Fire Nation sun. Leaning against the brick wall of the garden, she flashed a hesitant smile to the Fire Lord beside her and nudged him.
"You were one of them, huh? A little Fire Nation heir, you and your…" Her voice trailed off, and she turned her blues eyes from the kids to face him. "I'm – "
He flashed her a pointed look to cut her apology short. "No, you're right. That used to be us."
"I mean, you always had the others..." Her attempt at compensation was lame and half-hearted, and she wasn't offended when he didn't answer.
Biting her tongue, she knew she had said all the wrong things. Now Azula and Mai danced in his mind, two women she knew he'd rather not be constantly reminded of. She shifted her thin robe back over her shoulders, all of the sudden feeling chilled. Her stomach began to clench; had it been a mistake coming here yet again? After all, she felt as though she may be reminding him of everything he wanted to forget; they had little to talk of outside of blatantly overlapping past. Earlier that day in the dining hall, she felt as though their clipped talk of their time with the Avatar had even grown stale. It was going on five years since then, and this was the third time he had requested her presence. But each time the stories grew repetitive, and she began to see the cracks in what she had once believed was the most miraculous journey anyone could ask for.
Her thoughts became too much, and she broke.
"Tell me what you're thinking," she begged him suddenly, her hand lingering lightly above his arm. He looked at her, stiff at the almost-contact, eyes unreadable. "I feel so out of place coming here talking of the past. I'm even starting to feel like it's washed out, like it was a darker time instead of one I spent with my friends. Why do you keep asking me here? God, I'm talking too much now, I'm sorry, I just – "
"Did you know," he began, his voice a thin whisper under the heat of the day, "I was so in love with you after the war ended that I was destroyed in our initial separation? I'm surprised you didn't figure it out the first time why I invited you here. And the first time you were so happy, I thought I was wrong for living in the past. And then the second time, I thought I'd try again, and again, when we brought up the past, it only seemed bitter and terrible, something that deprived us of our childhood. And now, all the memories are bitter – they're not what they used to be, and I don't know why. And maybe that's the point. Maybe we're supposed to grow out of those memories. Maybe that's what I need is a nudge into the present. Because, you don't understand, Katara, I've been living in the past ever since we walked out of that war alive, and I found you were halfway across the world the next day."
His declaration was not very surprising to her; she felt the warmth return in a prickling fashion, tickling her cheeks and making her squirm. It was no secret that they had fooled around a bit upon her first visit to the Fire Nation, but neither of them had discussed their feelings. After all, they had been teenagers then and still remembered each other's bodies like their own.
But as she met his eyes, she knew too much had changed, and their flame was dying out with their stories, nothing but flaky ash that nobody wanted to deal with.
"I was so young," she began, shaking her head and closing her eyes. "I didn't know what I wanted and neither did you. I guess things do run its course, but, Zuko…"
"I also need to marry," he threw out there, trying to catch her gaze. "I just needed to tell you. I just needed you to know what I felt. I wanted to know if…"
If you felt the same way is what he wanted to say, she knew.
"I…" she started again, her head still rocking slowly to each side, the air starting to become sticky on her skin. "I don't know what I wanted. I liked you, I think I could have loved you had our circumstances been different but…"
He nodded in acceptance, his countenance once again unreadable even in the brightness that all at once began to seem blinding to the water bender.
"I don't want to remember the past worse than it was," she finally whispered, a battle tingling at her core. "I'm sorry it has to be like this."
"Some things do run its course, like you said," he followed up after a moment of silence. Pushing away from the wall, he beckoned her inside. While the air was not as stifling as it had been earlier, Katara couldn't pinpoint this new feeling in the air. It was a mixture of melancholy, uncertainty, and closure. "Come on, we can have dinner and make plans for your return to the pole."
The smaller of the burgundy clad kids let out a scream, and she stopped to make sure he picked himself up before she turned to follow the Fire Lord.
Maybe in another time things could have been different – their memories not tainted with their stolen childhood. Maybe in another time they wouldn't live days away immersed in different ways of life.
As he watched her board her ship the next morning, he realized that even in closure there is that nagging question that begs 'what if?'.