Zuko couldn't take it anymore. Being the perfect son, the crown prince, it was supposed to feel right. It was supposed to be what he spent three harsh years in exile fighting for. But it wasn't. If this was right, than why was his mother dead? For it to be right, then his mother's death would have to be right.
To be Firelord Ozai's perfect son, he would have to accept that everything the Firelords had done was the right thing. And he couldn't. His moral compass tried to point him in two directions, constantly fighting each other.
But he had already decided which direction he would travel. His uncle Iroh was the wisest man he knew. This time, he would listen to him.
Zuko lay awake in bed, on the day before the day of black sun. It was a perfectly nice day, and the sun was its normal blazing, shining self.
His royal bedroom, a regal design of burning reds and adamant black and gold, was where he lie. Zuko felt the same painful sensation inside him, like a ball of needles was moving through his chest.
He hadn't gotten any sleep, had simply lied there and felt his soul burn and waste away while he stayed in this place.
So he rose from his bed, the bed of the prince. The heir to a nation of rage and hate. And he barely made it three steps before the servants arrived. His door slid open, and a small swarm of people who thought they were blessed just to be around the great, heroic avatar slayer Zuko, made their way in.
"My lord," One of them spoke while they all bowed respectfully, "Princess Azula wishes to have breakfast with you today. Do you wish to attend?" Zuko stood in his sleep robes, just risen from a night of deep thought and moral choices, and a half dozen men who feel righteous when they bring the Prince a snack were clambering into his room to bring him any comfort they could.
They couldn't help him with a hot towel or a fruit tart. Zuko didn't need comfort, didn't deserve it. He had done awful things, and hurt a vast number of people. His life was about destruction, just like his nation. Not anymore. This couldn't go on.
"No. I'm going to Mai's house." Zuko hadn't made plans with her, but he needed to talk to her. She, too could see the evil surrounding them thinly veiled in nationalism. All he had to do was tell her, show her. Zuko needed someone to tell him that he isn't crazy, that it isn't treason, what he's thinking of doing.
"Very well my Lord," the same servant spoke to him while the rest continued bowing silently "We will prepare the royal carriage." It may sound fun to sit on silk blankets while royal guards carry you on a large board, but it gets annoying. Especially when you don't want the people to see you. When they worship you for actions opposite of what you plan to do.
"No you will not. I'm leaving, now." Zuko suddenly grew impatient, and walked towards the door. His loyal subjects parted for him, and a feeble sentence started "But, Sir" was quickly stopped. Zuko grabbed his cloak by his door.
So he marched at a quick and purposeful pace down the halls of the prestigious palace. Hair unkept and wearing messy clothes, Zuko looked little like a prince. But anyone could recognize him. Every man woman and child in the fire nation would see his scar and recognize the great hero, the heir to their throne. The murderer of the world's hope for peace.
The royal garden was beautiful, filled with impressive plants that were starting to bloom as summer approached but he didn't appreciate it. Zuko was sweating from his night of thinking, of rebirth. His cloak made him even hotter, but he wouldn't give up the cover for a little comfort.
Mai lived just three streets away once he reached the gate. When he passed the large threatening gate of the palace, it occurred to Zuko that maybe she wouldn't see things his way.
Maybe she would take a firm patriotic stance. Then again, she might not care at all and just shrug off his problems. That seemed more likely. She was getting more involved, more emotional though. She was warming up to him, and he loved it. Loved her.
After moving through the mostly clear morning streets, Zuko approached Mai's house. It was a typical upper class fire nation house, flame insignias artistically placed all over it. Zuko walked up the few wooden steps to her porch, and took a deep breath.
Zuko was a mess. He knew that at this hour Mai would be just waking and not dressed or groomed for the day, but she looked lovely and beautiful even when she put no effort into it.
He wanted to knock. Her father would come to the door, and see Zuko in his current state, ask what was the matter. Zuko would tell him he needed to see Mai immediately, that this was of the utmost importance. Zuko would go inside, and sit on one of Mai's expensive couches while her father went to get her. That's how it should happen.
But he can't. Zuko turned his back to the door and slumped against Mai's wall. He couldn't drag her into this. Couldn't let her become part of the great Prince Zuko's downfall to treason. He loved her too damn much.
Zuko touched his hand to his scar. This was his destiny, his fight. Mai would wonder what was wrong, why Zuko was so worked up She would walk to the couch Zuko would sit on. Zuko would explain his confusion, and his realization that everything around them, the whole nation, the war, is built on destruction and misguided notions of bettering the world.
And she would understand. And she would tell him that they could run away together, be happy and free. He would look into her eyes, and then he would be pulled from his destiny, to join the avatar. They would run away, and, if they were lucky, live happily ever after.
But he couldn't do it. Zuko got up in an exhausted manner, and closed his eyes. This was his fate. His fate didn't allow for his girlfriend to tag along. His fate made him break the heart of the woman he cared about more than anyone else in the world.
Tears began to form at his eyes, and he allowed them to flow down his cheeks. Zuko didn't sob once, and he knew what he was doing was right. The elements were out of balance, and the avatar needed fire, his fire, to restore it.
So he left. Left happiness behind, putting the Earth and its people above himself and his desires. Zuko walked through the street. People still weren't on the street yet, the noble families were eating their breakfast and grooming themselves.
Zuko looked up at the sky, the cloudless, sunny sky. His purpose was to help the avatar bring down his father. That was the reason for everything he had been through, everything Destiny threw at him. It made him who he was. And he would save his nation, and not receive any gratitude for it. That was his destiny.