a/n: Oh dear. That is all I can say about this. For clarification, this takes place after something that reminds Katara of the war - I've left it ambiguous so the reader can imagine whatever they'd like to, and also because I'm lazy. (:

disclaimer: Nope.

Reviews are always appreciated.


HEAVEN IS WHERE IT NEEDS TO BE.

For some, the anger went away, but it left emptiness instead of peace. For others, the anger never went away. Some had their anger soothed, but it knotted around their hearts and minds and strangled them. It drew and quartered them until something sliced away the restraints and all the anger and sorrow came rushing out again. Zuko knew this better than anyone, and yet -

She ran down the steps of the Fire Nation palace. Zuko stopped, leaned against the doorway, and pled, "Katara—"

"Shut up!" She turned her head to scowl at him. She was already half-blinded by tears, and frustrated by confusion, and she tripped and fell to rest at the bottom of the stairs.

Zuko didn't think about moving. He ran, taking them four at a time, and knelt by her side. Her head wasn't bleeding, good – nothing was, that he could tell - and then he looked at her legs. A bloody mess capped her right knee.

"Zuko, I'm a healer. I can take care of this myself." He nodded but didn't budge. Katara moved a hand over her knee. The blood scurried back into her veins, and the layers of fat and muscle and skin knit back together.

"You should still take it easy." He cupped both her elbows as she stood, and before she could snap another retort she stumbled again, this time into his chest.

"I'm fine," she said, her voice hitching. Then, because lying was a betrayal of the body and she knew how much betrayal could hurt: "I'll be fine. Eventually."

A gust of wind blew petals into the courtyard. There were purple jacaranda blooms and pink cherry blossom flowers, and clusters of violet wisteria. A breeze flowed through the chimes that hung from the porch roof as well. That was why he'd requested them, he remembered – he'd thought the land had seen enough misery, and the sound of chimes was…soothing.

"I know you will be, but right now..." He'd never been good with words. Zuko realized that at some point they'd wrapped their arms around each other, even though he no longer needed to support Katara's weight. It was…nice, but… "You know what my uncle always says?"

"A cup of tea clears the cloudiest heart?" Her words are muffled by the fabric of his rose.

"…How'd you know that?"

"He has it on a welcoming mat outside his tea shop." Katara pulled back and knuckled the tears away from her eyes. She made a valiant attempt at a smile. In a way, she was braver than he was. They'd both done their best to make it unscathed – or to not add any more scars to their collection – during the last months of the war, but neither of them had succeeded. "If you're offering, yes, I'd like a cup of tea."

Katara's fingers brushed the back of his hand on the way back, as if in thanks.