Prologue
...December 29, 2000…
Chilled thin sheets of blackened ice coated the paved streets. A blanket of fresh white powder, dusted the whole town below. No one knew of the tragedy coming from within the small Alaskan town. A poor family was unprepared for what was about to happen to them, on that dark night. There was a sudden loud knock upon the door, as the little girl raced to help her Papa and her older brother. Once she opened the door, she then faced someone entirely different.
There stood a deranged member of the city's secret police, an older man, graying hair with a burning anger, these indescribable eyes. He kicked open the door, gun in hand. He then pointed the 9mm at the frightened little girl, with the safety off. The mother froze, and then stood firmly in front of her baby girl.
Waving the gun in her face the little girl backed away from the man. He started shouting about money and how passed due the rent was. He grabbed the girl by her hair as she began to scream, the mother begged him to let her go. He did, hitting the women with the back of the gun.
Her mother told her to go down to the town's tavern to get Papa and her brother. The little girl in blue ran, as fast as she could, lungs burning from the strain. Once she got to her Papa and brother, the three of them raced home as fast as they could run. They came back to their home set a blaze. That little girl walked over to her mother's blue betrothal necklace upon the sidewalk.
The once white snow, pure and clean, drifted down in the sky now darkened by the black soot and smoke. The night burned into the little girl's memories, forever. Looking up at the fire, she felt the single tear roll down her cheek. There she saw him; the man walking away right passed her, looking at her one last time. She would never forget those eyes. Then he was gone.
—
...May 22, 2011…
Everyone craves a routine to fallow, needing that familiarity as a safe comfortable pillow of protection. Wanting to feel safe from change, and being creatures of habit we allow ourselves to sink into these patterns willingly.
As always, upon the gas burner was a coal black kettle. Silence stolen by the familiar sound of a match scraping the matchbox. The old man's rough pale hand brought the lit match to the gas, watching the flames flickering to life for what felt like the 1000th time.
Walking towards the front of the small teashop, he flips the open sign hanging on the door. Per usual the woman in blue is pulling her car up to the same spot on the right. It was her routine, being here at six in the morning.
The older man gave her a warm smile, going to get her cup ready. While she sits in the first table beside the counter yet, besides the windows. Where she could always watch the world awakened by the spilling warm golden sun.
The scent of her Oolong tea played at her nose, as she blew upon her tea to cool it down. Taking a small sip, she drank, the warmth relaxing her instantly. The cup clinked slightly against the table as she exhaled. Looking down she saw a name etched into the wood clearly. Running her fingers across, brushing each letter twice.
"Hey, Iroh." The woman asked the elderly man softly. Still tracing the first letter, she looked up.
"Your nephew, what's his name?"
"His name miss Tara, is Zuko." She watched him smile widely. "Actually I believe he is about your age now, works here part time, nights and weekends. Never quite this early though." He laughed as if he had told a good joke.
Katara gave a small smile looking back down at the name, Zuko, carved at the ledge of the table. She felt sad suddenly, this was special. It felt special to her for some reason. What she did not realize, was how special.
…September 20, 2013…
'Everything was pretty much hopeless at this point.' Katara thought as she sat at her sat at her sad excuse for a kitchen table. Money. Money. Money. She thumbed through the stack of unpaid bills sighing and opening her laptop. This job search was not getting her anywhere. Nothing would even hire her, and her last couple of jobs were, awful.
Katara looked at her empty inbox and no news from any of the applications she sent out in the past few months. Then she grimaced looking down at her cell phone, this was her last resort, and yes, she was now, officially that desperate. Grabbing her phone, she went to her contacts, scrolling all the way down to the S's, and hit call.
"Hello." Everything about the voice bothered her right now for some reason.
"Sokka, I need some help." Katara said unknowingly chewing her lip.
"With?" he sighed and Katara rolled her eyes.
"I need a temporary job until I can find a permanent job; I just need money for my bills." She said quietly then waited, his silence was deafening.
"I knew it!" he shouted, then scoffed to himself.
"Please Sokka. I'm about to be kicked out of my flat." She was about to beg him to let her.
"Okay, fine, I will have Suki set up an interview later this week, and you can start the fallowing Monday. How is that?" he asked begrudgingly. "Even though I offered this job to you like a month ago, but I recall you being too good for it."
"I know, and I am sorry. I just wanted to do this on my own, but it is harder then I assumed…" she winced and he scoffed.
"Yeah, I know. I have to go, talk to you later." He said and ended the call. She was in his debt.
Author's note- New Zutara Story! Let me know what you think so far, I was going for a modern way to bring them into an office kind of setting, with trying to keep the storyline pretty close to what was in the actual cartoon series. Review, please. Let me know your thoughts and opinions. I am going to re write my other story too. Therefore, I am going to take it down for a while.
I also have the next chapter already written so how about FIVE review. Thank you. Much love.