La Giustizia Audace (The Audacious Justice)
Author's must read: Believe it or not, this is only the second longest oneshot I've ever written. The longest one is 57 pages long so be glad I didn't put you through that again XD In actual fact this wasn't even supposed to be as long as it was but once I started my muse decided to grace me with its presence and I couldn't stop writing! Maybe it's because I haven't written anything in a while, or maybe it's because this is the first, and probably last, time that I've done a modern Zutara fic. I never had the will to put any of the Avatar characters into modern day until DefyGravity2502 requested it. Why did she get to request me to write her a very crappy and sometimes pointless fic? Because she was the 100th person to review one of my stories. I was initially going with the 100th person to review a story but the highest number of reviews I've ever gotten on a single story is 41 so that was going to take MUCH too long.
In case you were wondering, yes, I am going to give a request to the 200th person too. So if you want to make review number 200 come quicker review, please. I love reviews. Seriously. Even really mean ones. It means somebody read my random c**p.
Anyway, back on track. DefyGravity2502, I'm SO sorry this took so long. It wasn't the actual writing of the fic that made this so late (I finished it in three hours) I just had no time to start it before yesterday. I sincerely hope that this is ok… Please feel free to say if it's not: you won't hurt my feelings. Thank you SO much once again for taking the time to review every chapter of my other random Zutara fics. You deserve this prize :)
Only two more things. One: Any questions are welcome to be directed to me: there's a lot of hidden meaning in this fic that only my insane brain can understand. Two: La Giustizia Audace is Italian.
Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender or any of the characters. (They belong to Mike and Bryan, the lucky people with the brilliant minds.)
The plot of this story belongs now to DefyGravity2502. (Although it would be much appreciated if, by the huge, huge miracle, somebody draws fanart of it that I'll be sent the link. Not that actual fanart of my disasters will happen soon…)
The little hall was almost packed with dutiful parents and friends there to show their support for the prizewinners. She was glad to be in the crowed this time; it was a new experience for her to be seeing the stage instead of being on it. It wasn't that the honour of being up there meant nothing to her; it was just that once you won enough prizes for being first in every class the awards started fading together in a meaningless blur. Tonight, however, stood out like a searchlight on a moonless night. Tonight she was strictly observing, clapping politely but waiting in silent apprehension for him to come on stage. She could not spot him in the line yet, but she forced herself not to panic. There was still time. The ceremony hadn't started yet; the buzz of voices was still loud in the air as people talked amongst themselves about different things. The most popular topic was speculation of who would receive the little trophy of "Best Achiever". Nobody really cared about the award itself: it was given to the person who had improved the most over the course of the semester. What everybody was really interested in was what the award winner would do with his La Giustizia Audace. The Audacious Justice. The chance to do whatever you wanted to one of the pupils of the school and not get in trouble for it. The last student had locked her ex boyfriend in the janitor closet for the entire day. The teachers had heard his calls for help, of course, but she had posted a note on the door claiming that that was how she was using her La Giustizia Audace and so none of them could do anything. La Giustizia Audace was supreme law at her school.
One of her teachers walked by the row she was sitting and beamed at her.
"Miss Katara," he said in a booming voice that made a few people turn and stare.
She smiled back, used to the eyes, and greeted him back. She saw his smile slip slightly as he noticed what she was wearing and it was with a frown on his face that he walked to his seat right in the front row. Katara tried hard not to smile at his expression. Her long, brunette hair was, as accustomed, tied back, that night in a braid. She was wearing neat little black shoes and black pants; typical to her everyday wear. But what had confused her teacher was that, over her characteristic blue top which that night was a V-necked tee, she wore a bright green T-shirt with the bold and perplexing logo of "Save Water: Drink Tea". In addition to being green, and not blue like her tops were every day, the shirt was also about two sizes too big for her, and hung loose around her slender frame.
She giggled slightly as her teacher turned around in his seat to look at her, as if to make sure he had really seen her wearing the top. She turned her bright blue eyes away, fighting down laughter. Almost unconsciously she lifted the front of the shirt to her nose and smelled it. The scent was not hers and, try as she might, she could not name what it was. It simply smelled of him. Her gaze flickered back to the line of people receiving awards by the stage and she searched through them carefully. Her blue eyes met a pair of gold ones that were locked on her position. The intensity of his gaze took her off guard, as it had the first time she had seen him…
Her math teacher's footsteps echoed loudly in the deserted corridor as the two walked in silence. She had hardly ever been down to this part of the school and so her curiosity kept her busy on the silent walk and almost made her not notice when Mr Jaun stopped outside a door. He looked at her with worry lines on his face.
"Are you sure you have to do this, Katara? I'm sure we can find another way for you to get extra credit in math…"
"Mr Jaun, I really need this A-plus," she told him, a smile on her face. "The school's policy is that if you get an A for a subject and want extra credit you have to tutor somebody else."
"Yes well…" The man shifted uncomfortably, then sighed. "You know already that your pupil is from a… difficult background. And he's known for fighting… Please be careful."
"I'll be fine; it's just math," she smiled reassuringly.
He slowly stepped away from the door, still looking slightly unconvinced. He took three steps away and then turned back to her, deadly serious.
"The requirements for extra credit is to tutor somebody for at least three lessons and then to receive credit based on how much the pupil has improved. If you feel uncomfortable…"
"I know. Three lessons and then I'm free to quit."
He nodded, almost absently and turned away again. She took a step towards the door.
"And, Katara?"
"Yes sir?"
"Try not to stare; he really hates that."
Katara blinked at her teacher's retreating back and then cautiously went to the door, standing on her tiptoes to look inside the window before going in. At first she thought Mr Juan was talking about staring at his clothes, but she could find nothing wrong with the black and red garments other then they were a bit worn. Next she turned her attention onto his looks, expecting ugliness and finding none. In fact, she noted with surprise, he was actually quite handsome with his ivory skin, black hair that hung low on his collar and into his eyes, the eyes themselves that were a very strange gold colour-
Then he turned his head slightly and she felt her stomach disappear. She had seen scars before, of course, but the angry red mark that marred the left side of his face was unlike anything she had ever seen before. Outside, in an abandoned corridor, standing on her tiptoes to see, she could not stop staring. Her gaze locked on the blazing mark in a sort of horrified awe. Finally she managed to swallow and look away. Taking a few deep breaths to ready herself she opened the door. His eyes swiveled to her instantly, one only permitted to open halfway thanks to the scar. She felt the words she had prepared die in her mouth at the utter intensity of that gaze. It was like he was boring through her, a searing laser that cut through everything with it's burning force…
"Uhm…" She cleared her throat. "Hi. I'm Katara. I'm your new math tutor."
He didn't say anything, but his gaze calmed slightly and she breathed easier, unpinned by his stare.
"So… I thought we could work in the library; it's the easiest. You alright with that Mr…?" He stayed silent but didn't object and so she turned away. "OK then," she muttered to herself.
She was at the door when a sound stopped her in her tracks and drove jolts into her nerves.
"Zuko."
"Excuse me?" Her voice was squeaky as she turned around.
"My name's Zuko," he replied in the husky voice that, once again, made her tingle for some odd, unknown reason.
She found that his gold eyes were concentrated with something different as she stared at him then.
000
After that the two met after school every day in the library. Zuko said very little at all but she would often get a glimpse of something in his eyes, like some raw force being contained. That scared her. Who was she to stand here in front of this stranger and try and tell him what to do? Who was she to think that she could handle him if the control on that hidden force slipped? Was it all really worth it, the risk of standing before him truly blind to what he was thinking, feeling… who he was? But then she saw him improve, at a rate that shocked her. It was as though all he needed was for her to explain it practically and he clicked.
She had the gnawing feeling, though, that it was more then her ability to explain that made him respond: it was the way she treated him like a human being instead of dumb vermin the way his sort of people were usually treated. And, even though he was mostly silent, as the days wore on she found herself being able to relax around him as if they were friends. She certainly lost most of the fear she had had the first time they had spent alone together. And she found the more she relaxed around him, the more he relaxed too. After two weeks she found out that he could actually smile, although the expression on his face looked a little strange for a while. A fragile, tentative bond of sorts was beginning to form between them, one that was far too tiny to be called friendship yet but that she found, with honest surprise, was growing stronger.
However, the knowledge of that bond did not stop her heart from hammering in her chest as she walked down the dingy street. Every noise that happened in that neighborhood sounded sinister, and there were far too many shadows for that time of day. She kept her eyes ahead, counting the house numbers but refusing to look at the buildings themselves, at the feeling paint or the desolate, abandoned way their windows gaped… Her breathing quickened as she saw two people spot her and slowly start to shadow her. Clutching the books she held tightly to her chest she began to walk quicker, wishing the necklace she wore would not shine that way in the afternoon sun and catch their attention. In relief she saw the number she was looking for and swung into the driveway, promptly crashing into somebody. Two strong, hard hands grabbed her shoulders and she gasped in air to scream-
"Katara?"
The air whooshed out of her lungs as the familiar voice said her name. Relief pounded through her, but it was short-lived. Zuko did not look pleased that she was there; he was glaring at her with anger now instead of just his usual bouts of surliness when he didn't understand something she was trying to teach him. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.
"What are you doing here?" he demanded, his voice almost furious.
"You forgot your books," she told him, holding the said objects out to him. "You'll need them; there's that huge test tomorrow…"
"And so you decided to just parade down to my house? How did you know where I live, anyway? Did you break into the school's records or something?"
She blushed; his last accusation was almost entirely accurate. Suddenly she was filled with an almost irrational anger, born out of her fear for him and this place, his attitude and the guilt and embarrassment she felt because of his words.
"Well I'm sorry for trying to help you out," she snapped at him, her eyes turning to ice.
"You should be," he growled back, his eyes turning to hard gold slabs.
Her eyes narrowed at his retort and she was about to snap something back when a voice floated out of his house.
"Zuko? Who are you talking to?"
Katara blinked, momentarily thrown. The voice was rich and warm but held the same tenor of roughness as Zuko's did. The teen before her shut both his eyes in irritation.
"Nobody, Uncle," he replied through clenched teeth.
"Well would "nobody" care to come in for some tea? It's fresh. And don't answer for her!" he added, just as Zuko opened his mouth again.
He closed it with a slight growl and looked at Katara, surliness evident on his face.
"Well?" he asked shortly. "Do you want tea?" When she didn't reply at once he added in a slightly less hostile voice, "Uncle makes good tea."
"Your uncle makes good tea?" she repeated in disbelief.
She had never thought of Zuko's family at all, and finding out he had an uncle that made good tea seemed rather ludicrous and surreal.
"Yes. He cooks well too, in case you were wondering." His voice was full of antagonism as he scowled.
Her former aggravation at him returned, and she scowled back.
"Then what's left for your mother to do?"
She was going to add the question 'does she do hard labour?' just to be spiteful, but the words died in her throat as Zuko flinched like he'd been struck. Every muscle in his body tensed.
"I don't have one of those," he replied shortly, his voice flat.
She stared at him but didn't see a sullen teen glaring down at her. Instead she saw the coffin lid close over a beautiful woman before being lowered into the ground. She saw her father, face utterly shell-shocked, throw a rose after the casket. She felt her older brother's hand squeeze hers, felt how it was shaking…
"What about your father?" she heard herself asking, thinking about her own father who traveled for work and left her and Sokka with her grandmother.
Zuko snorted, his face hardening to stone.
"I wish I didn't have one of those."
She was spared from answering by Zuko's uncle who came to see why they were taking so long. He was a jolly old man whose eyes twinkled as he spoke and laughed. She felt herself relax almost instantly, although some of the things he said made her blush and Zuko roll his eyes. His tea was excellent and she could barely get enough of it as he told her exciting stories with much animation while Zuko sat silently in a corner. She supposed that was one of the reasons he was so silent; in his house he couldn't get a word in edgeways.
The many cups of tea, though delicious, made her have to interrupt one of Iroh's stories so she could be excused to the bathroom. It was the last of three rooms down the tiny hallway. The first room she passed was an explosion of things, all of them worthless and some broken in some way but obviously all dearly loved in some way. Judging from the way the rest of the house was decorated, she knew that it was Iroh's room. Zuko's room was almost the complete opposite. It was so neat she wondered if anybody even stayed in there, let alone a teenage boy. The only thing that was remotely out of position was a lone book that sagged against a wall as though it had been thrown there. But it was not the contrasting neatness of that room that screamed that it was different from the rest. She stood staring at it in puzzlement for a long moment before she realized what was missing: unlike every other room in the house, each which was filled with many colourful, and sometimes even chipped or broken, mirrors, Zuko's room did not even hold one. In fact, she reflected as she headed back to their living room, it had hardly any reflective surface at all. She was still deeply wondering why that was when she entered the room again and Zuko turned to look at her. The answer hit her like a hard blow in the face when she saw the left side of his face.
"Miss Katara," Iroh said, making her jump as she was pulled back to reality. "I'm afraid my nephew has to go and get the groceries and will be unable to walk you home. Thus I will do so."
Katara saw Zuko raise his eyes to the heavens and had the shrewd suspicion they had discussed this while she had been out of the room. She tried to protest politely, telling the man there was no need to walk her home, but he sternly dried up her protests by reminding her that they were not in a very good neighborhood. Zuko murmured something neither of them could hear at that, but when he turned to say goodbye to her his face was calm.
"Thanks for bringing my books."
"No problem. See you tomorrow?"
He nodded, grabbed a wallet from the kitchen counter and headed out the door without another backward glance. His uncle watched him go with a careful look, but turned to Katara with a smile when he was out of sight. Her walk home was much more pleasant then her walk there, and she smiled to herself at how the streets and houses looked so much more welcoming with Iroh chatting easily by her side. As they neared her house, however, his babble stopped and he turned to her, looking serious now.
"Miss Katara"-he still refused to call her just Katara, no matter how much she insisted-"I must apologize for the way Zuko acted earlier."
"That's alright," she mumbled, embarrassed as she remembered her anger.
"There is no excuse for his rudeness, but you should know the reason he was so hostile is because he grew up in very different circumstances. Moving to down there without a cent to his name after he spent twelve years of his life living in luxury… He took it very hard."
Katara was silent as she imagined Zuko living in one of the huge manors further up town. Somehow, she could picture him there amongst the royal and rich.
"He doesn't like his father much, does he?" she asked quietly.
For a long time the older man did not speak. "They were never close," he replied finally. "His father favoured his younger sister and ignored Zuko. He was, because of that, extremely close to his mother." There was a pause, and then he added quietly, "There is much suspicion that Zuko's father played some role in his mother's death. That and the fact that every day on the way to school Zuko has to pass his old house and see his father and his sister living like royalty…"
Katara was staring at him with wide eyes and her mouth hanging open. She had never in a million years thought that… Iroh looked at her gravely.
"Miss Katara, I am not trying to influence you to see my nephew the way I do. You must decide who and what he is for yourself. Just please know that he is like a turtle; his very hard shell is there to hide and protect his soft, soft interior."
She was left thinking about what he had told her the rest of the evening.
000
In her ten school years she had never once been called to the principal's office until then. She could feel nothing but shock and surprise in her as she walked past his secretary and knocked on his door. She entered when told to and then stood, unsure and awkward, in front of his desk.
"Miss Katara, I am very sorry to call you out of class like this," her principal apologized, loosening the knot in her stomach slightly. "There has been an… incident that I thought you should be made aware of."
He pointed to the corner of the room and for the first time Katara was aware that there was somebody else in the room. Her eyes widened as she saw an unknown boy sitting sulkily on the chair. He had dried blood on his face and clothes and his lip was badly split. He glared at her as she stared, and she blushed and turned back to the principal.
"The one it seems is responsible for starting the fight is… well the actual reason you were called here. I believe he is being tutored by you." He surveyed Katara as her stomach plummeted and she nodded silently. "I do not need to tell you that fighting is strictly forbidden. If he is found guilty again he will be suspended, and you will not be able to get any of your extra credit." He looked at her for a moment. "I am not supposed to tell you this, but if he gets a C on a few of his tests he will stand a chance of winning the "Best Achiever" award at our prize giving. Not only will that benefit him, but you, being his tutor…"
Katara nodded, understanding. She spoke to the principal for another few moments then was shown into the room next door, where Zuko sat, his face a mask of fury. She was surprised when she saw him; after seeing the other guy she expected him to be much worse. But all he had was a swelling cheek and cut lip.
"Well, I hope you're pleased with yourself," she told him coldly, folding her arms. He scowled at her but didn't reply. That just made her angrier. "Do you want to mess up your whole future? Huh? Do you honestly want to stay where you are for the rest of your life? What about making something good for yourself? Your uncle? Do you think he wants to live down there?"
He stood up and with a sinking heart she wondered if she'd gone too far. His face was livid, his gold eyes almost burning like a fire.
"Do you think," he said, and his voice was deadly calm. "that I want to be nothing? To live without any honour? I'd do anything to get out of that dump I call a home now."
"That's not what I see," she told him. "If you really mean that, you wouldn't be looking for trouble. Do you understand that one more slip might get you expelled? Then what will you do?" He stared at her wordlessly. "You're going to have to try harder. No more fighting."
"I didn't start it," he snarled at her. "It was that ba- Idiot."
"Then don't fight back!" she yelled, exasperated.
"I am not just going to let him get away with-" he started heatedly, but she interrupted as she got struck with an idea.
"La Giustizia Audace," she told him.
He frowned. "The Audacious Justice? Ok, that'll allow me to teach them a lesson without getting into trouble, but to get it I have to win that award."
"You'll just have to get a few Cs then," she told him primly. "Starting with your math test today."
His face went blank, and then his unmarked cheek tinted pink.
"Uhm… I kinda missed that because of the fight…" he mumbled.
She threw her hands up in exasperation, a gesture she had picked up from her brother. Then she took a deep breath and faced him.
"Then you'll have to work even harder to make up for it. And you are not allowed to fight, or fight back or anything like that, got it?" He nodded after a moment of hesitation. "Promise?" He nodded again. "If you don't keep to your side of the deal, I'm out," she warned him. "Then it's all over." She paused to let it sink in and then became thoughtful. "Well we're already studying every day after school, so now we're going to have to study over the weekend too."
"What?" Zuko choked, his eye popping.
"I'm coming over to your house on Saturday," she announced. "Have your stuff ready."
She turned on her heel, intending to stalk out before he could answer, but his voice caught her before she left.
"Katara!"
"What?" she replied, facing him and ready to argue again.
"Bring a jacket; it's going to be cold," he said evenly.
000
Saturday morning found her arrive on Zuko's doorstep bright and early, this time with less fear then before. When he opened the door she was once again thrown into surprise. Every time she had ever seen Zuko he had been wearing black and red, the same way she always wore black and blue. But on that day his usual red was replaced with a bright green T-Shirt.
"'Save Water: Drink Tea'? Isn't tea just leaves soaked in hot water?"
"Don't let my uncle hear you say that," he begged her, wincing. "That's one lecture you never want to have to sit through."
"He bought you the shirt?" she guessed with a grin.
"Christmas present," he affirmed, rolling his eyes.
"I've never seen you wear it before," she said, genuinely curious.
"Green isn't my colour," he muttered.
"And you don't want it to get messed up," she added.
The look in his eyes told her she was right, and she smiled secretly to herself. Zuko cared more for his uncle then he'd ever admit to anybody, even himself. The said man greeted her with tinkling eyes and a warm smile.
"So are you two going to take a picnic and go and study up on the hills?"
"Uncle," Zuko hissed. "she's going to tutor me, not have a tea date."
"Yeah, I think a picnic is a little inappropriate," Katara added, wondering why she reacted that way to the word 'date'.
"Well then," the old man replied, not looking ruffled but with a mischievous look in his eyes. "I guess you'll just be sitting in Zuko's room then. On his bed."
There was silence.
"A picnic sounds good," Zuko said.
"It's a very nice day out," Katara agreed.
And so the two found themselves lounging in long grass, bees buzzing around them harmlessly as they learned calculus and algebra. When they got hungry they unpacked the food Iroh had sent up with them, and they started to talk. Later Katara would never remember what they had talked about, only that she had laughed a lot and the afternoon seemed like one big ball of happy sunshine. As they were headed back however, the absence of the sun made her shiver and rub her bare arms.
"I told you to bring a jacket," Zuko told her with a disapproving frown. "You didn't listen, did you?"
She shook her head shamefully and he sighed at her, shifting the picnic basket and his books so he could shrug off his own jacket. He held it out to her and after a moment of shocked staring she took it. She was surprised at how big it was for her; Zuko was taller but he did not seem so much bigger. And yet his sleeves trailed way past her hands and the end of his jacket hung low on her hips. Somehow, instead of making her feel foolish it made her feel safe. They stopped by Zuko's house to drop off the basket and his books and he quickly changed out of his green tee into a long-sleeved red shirt. This time it was him who walked her home and although it was dark, she did not feel afraid. The conversation did not flow as freely as it had with Iroh, but it was still there. There was a moment of awkwardness as they reached her door and they said goodbye, but it was only several minutes later, when she was up in her room, that she realized she had not given his jacket back.
She played with the frayed hems, noting every worn place and every tear. Then, wondering why she wanted to, she lifted a sleeve to her nose and sniffed it. Her brother caught her at that very moment and so she took it off and hung it on her desk chair, thinking of giving it back on Monday. It was the last thing she saw before she fell asleep. It was not long, however, before she was woken up again. Lying in the darkness she wondered what had caused her to wake up. Then there was a clatter on her window; somebody was throwing stones. Still too asleep to be scared, she opened the window and peered out.
"Katara?" a very familiar voice hissed.
"Zuko! What the heck are you doing?" she hissed back. "It's past midnight!"
"I need my jacket back," he whispered loudly. "The police patrol on weekends and they won't let me go home if they see me like this…"
"You're not making any sense," she grumbled at him. "Wait there, I'll be right down."
Cursing him in her mind as she slipped silently down the stairs, his jacket in hand, Katara came to the conclusion that he was either drunk or just an idiot, like all men. She flipped on the outside light, thankful that her brother and grandmother's rooms were on the other side so they would not see it. Stepping silently outside she turned to where she saw his form.
"Now explain again why- Zuko!"
She stared in utter horror at him, her eyes raking over his body. Over the cuts, bruises and scrapes, his torn red shirt that was caked with dirt and dried blood. His lip was busted open and his scarred eye had the beginnings of a bruise on it. She suddenly understood why he needed the jacket; the police would never let him go in the condition he was in.
"What happened?" she breathed.
"Bloody idiots decided I was their punching bag for the night," he growled, wincing slightly as he shifted.
"But I don't understand," she whispered, thinking of the other fight he had been in and how he had remained unscathed. "Did they tie you up or something?"
"No," Zuko replied. "I didn't fight back."
"And you are not allowed to fight, or fight back or anything like that, got it?"
Her gaze turned horrified as she remembered her own words. Guilt engulfed her.
"Zuko…" She swallowed. "Wait here, I'm going to fetch the first aid kit."
She hurried through the silent and dark house, grabbed the kit and dashed back out again. She carefully made him sit on the outside bench, feeling her heart clench as he grimaced while lowering himself. She started with his face and arms, cleaning every wound and putting Band-Aids over the worst of them. Then she took a deep breath and looked down at his middle, where most of the blood was. It was impossible to see much with his tattered shirt still on and so she made him slowly raise his arms and gently pulled it off him.
She stopped breathing for a moment at what she saw. Across his ribs were dark, angry bruises and lacerations where heels, fists and crude weapons had struck him. In one or two places he was still bleeding, the red slowly oozing out and staining his white skin. She then realized that his wincing was due to the fact that he'd broken at least five ribs. She took a deep breath, reaching for more gauze, and saw something that promptly made her stop breathing again.
Underneath the ugly wounds and dirt, Zuko was muscular. Very muscular. She couldn't help but gape in surprise. She would never have thought that he could have a body like that. Words like gorgeous, hot and even sexy chased themselves around in her head as she stared at the toned muscles of his abdomen. She turned a deep shade of red when she realized what she was doing and thinking, and promptly immersed herself with fixing him. He hissed in pain once or twice but otherwise took it without a sound. Finally she bandaged up his ribs, wincing with him as she pulled the material tight, and tossed everything, including the plastic bag full of the used pieces of gauze, back into the bag.
"Where'd you learn all this?' he asked her, examining her work.
"I took a course after I realized it was something I was naturally good at," she shrugged.
"Katara the healer," he grinned, his split lip making the expression look funny.
His warm breath tickled her cheek as he said it, and she was very suddenly and acutely aware of how close he was sitting. He seemed to realize it in the same second as the grin left his face and he stared at her, waiting for something to happen. She stared back, not knowing how to react, and as she looked at the two different sized points of gold something rose up inside of her and gripped her entire body. It was a desire so strong, her heart seemed to be fueled by it. Her hand twitched, willing to obey the burning feeling it had to run itself through Zuko's hair. She clenched her hand into a fist and swallowed, scared at the ferocity of the desire. She wanted nothing more then to lean inwards and upwards, only a few feet towards his face…
"I think I'd better go now," Zuko said in a hoarse voice, his eye wide.
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak and he got up quickly. Too quickly; he groaned in pain. At that one sound the spell holding her shattered and she instantly felt her stomach clench for him. She helped him into his jacket, handing him his torn top to carry instead of him having to try to painfully pull it on and off again. And then he was gone, limping as quickly as he could down the street, refusing to slow down because of pride. And she was lying in her bed again, in her dreams smelling a smell she could not identify and feeling his hot breath on her face again.
000
Monday found her at the head office, picking up forms for her homeroom teacher. As she leant against the counter waiting for the new secretary to locate and photocopy the forms, the sound of a slight argument reached her ears. Curious, she peeked around the corner to the nurse's office, trying to see who the elderly lady was arguing with. She didn't have long to wonder as the door was suddenly flung open by the nurse and somebody was gestured to get out. A scowling Zuko excited the room, still limping as badly as he had been in the early hours of the previous morning.
"What was that all about?" she asked him quietly as he spotted her.
His frown deepened, but he stopped to talk to her, using the counter as support as subtly as he could.
"She wouldn't give me the medicine I asked for," he explained quite calmly. "I think she's scared I'll sell it to young children or something."
"What type of medicine?" she asked him. "And in her defense, you've never asked her for medication before. That's what you told me, anyway."
"I never have asked her; I was telling the truth," he replied a little sharply. "It's just that today I'm writing two tests and I know I have to do well in them so I figured I'd get some fever medication from her to-"
He broke off as Katara immediately put her hand on his forehead. It was blazing hot and now that she looked at him properly she could see the sweat clinging to his hairline and face. Her mouth set in a thin line.
"You should be in bed," she told him. "I'll bet you didn't even see a doctor, did you?" When his face took on a defensive look she sighed in frustration. "I'm no medical doctor, Zuko! You should have gone to the hospital and stayed in bed to let yourself heal today. In fact, I think you should go home right now."
"You just said you're not a medical doctor, so I don't have to listen to you," he replied arrogantly. "I'm staying here and I'm writing the tests."
They scowled at each other for a long time before she gave in, defeated.
"Fine. At least let me get you some medication, alright? Wait here."
She got the nurse to give her the pills without any hassle, and then she stayed and watched Zuko drink them all. She was inwardly worried about him; he looked much paler than normal and she could not shake the image of his battered abdomen from her head. But he was stubborn, and she had no choice but to watch him limp off down the corridor. For the rest of the day she had him always at the back of her thoughts. What scared her more than thinking of him collapsing somewhere was the sudden, crushing knowledge that having him occupy her thoughts was not something unique to that day; he had been there for a while without her fully noticing.
She was standing and chatting with a group of girls from her science class after school when suddenly they all fell quiet and started staring, with looks of varying disgust, at something behind her. Turning she found Zuko, his eyes defiant as he stared right back at the girls. Ignoring them, Katara strode towards him and saw at once from the expression on his face that his tests had been graded already.
"Did you get Cs?" she asked immediately. Her stomach dropped as he shook his head and ploughed ahead to dispel her own disappointment even as he opened his mouth to speak. "That's alright, there's still another three tests coming up before the prize giving. I mean, you worked really hard and you're sick…kinda. You're hurt! Badly. So that's gotta be why..."
"Katara," Zuko said calmly. When she didn't stop in her stream of consolations, he tried again. "Katara!"
"Yeah?" She was a little breathless.
"I got B-pluses. For both of them."
Her mouth fell open and she stared at him, waiting for him to tell her it was a joke. He didn't. His gold eyes were filled with something that looked suspiciously like pride. Then it really sunk in, and she beamed.
"Oh my gosh that's amazing!" she half squealed.
Her instinct took over her rational thought and she let her limbs do what they wanted to: crash into him in a hug. She heard the breath whoosh out of him in a groan and she immediately stepped back, her eyes wide.
"I'm so sorry! I forgot… I'm… are you ok?"
He nodded, his eyes locking onto hers. And then it came again; the powerful, consuming impulse she had felt after healing him. This time it seemed to be even stronger and more demanding. She felt her fingers and lips quiver, her hips shifting without her telling them to, her shoulders relax completely. A strange silence seemed to engulf her, and suddenly her and Zuko were the only two people alive. She could hear his heart beating- or was that only the sound of her own pounding pulse?- and could see every line on his face, on his scar. She felt herself unconsciously shift closer, as if she was a piece of metal being drawn to a powerful magnet. She was somehow getting closer to him… So much closer…
Zuko wove on his feet, his knees almost buckling, and once again the spell shattered like fragile glass. The sound rushed back to her and she hurriedly stepped back.
"You're staying home tomorrow," she told him sternly. "I'm telling your uncle that I'll bring your homework over after school. I'm presuming I'm right and he's on my side?" added smugly as he scowled.
"Yes." His voice was frosty. "He nearly fell over backwards when he woke up yesterday and saw me," he added softly.
"You see!" She rolled her eyes. "Why men insist on ignoring good advice is beyond me. Come on, let's see if we can get a ride halfway there; you won't be able to walk the whole way."
Late that night she was still trying to figure out what type of intensity his eyes had been burning with when he had looked at her after she'd hugged him.
000
"I've got to be dreaming," he muttered.
Katara turned her head to grin at him as they made their way to the rooms backstage.
"Hello, you got B-pluses for basically every test you wrote after I started tutoring you. You deserve to be here."
"Do you know what I'm getting a prize for?"
"Perseverance?" She shrugged. "I haven't got a clue. Although I think it might be the one we're aiming for…"
"La Giustizia Audace." He said it like a holy word but then sighed. "I heard there's somebody who went from failing to straight As, though, so I'm not too confident."
"It could just be a rumor," she said brightly, begging silently that she was right.
They reached the room where the men got dressed into the tuxedos the school had hired for the night.
"Katara," the assisting teacher beamed at her. "This is the men's changing classroom. The ladies' is next door."
"Oh I'm not participating tonight," Katara smiled back. "I just came to show him the way."
The teacher's smile faded as she looked at Zuko, and Katara found herself feeling overly grateful that Zuko was wearing his green tee; it was far less shabby then all his other black ones. With a sniff the teacher jerked her thumb at an open, makeshift room where a tux hung waiting. Zuko rolled his eyes at her parting comment that the tuxedos were hired and so had to be looked after. Katara giggled at his expression and before she could turn away he had yanked the shirt over his head. Unable to stop herself she looked down, feeling her pulse quicken ever so slightly as she saw his toned stomach muscles again. His ribs were almost all healed now, and only one cut had left a scar. And yet, as she stared at his milky skin, she could still see the bruises and blood that had coated his skin for such a long time after the fight…
"Katara?"
She jumped and her face instantly heated up as she realized he had caught her staring at him. Her eyes dragged themselves up to meet his gold ones.
"Uh…" He seemed unsure on how to phrase himself. "Uncle would be really disappointed if this shirt goes missing so do you think you could look after it for me?"
He held out the green T-Shirt to her, his face as pleading as she had ever seen it. She couldn't say no to that.
Which is why she found herself sitting in the small school hall, wearing a bold green T-Shirt and having her teachers oogle at her in shock at her colour choice. She shook herself out of her memories as the principal read Zuko's name. This was it. In his droning voice the headmaster told the crowd how Zuko had worked very hard and pulled his grades up from Fs and Ds to high Bs. She heard her name mentioned somewhere in there, but was too busy squinting at the trophy Mr Jaun was about to give Zuko to pay any attention to what was said about her. She was too far away to read what was on the trophy.
"And so because of his efforts," the principal concluded. "he is being awarded the school's prestigious trophy of 'Best Achiever.'"
Katara's abdomen contracted and she felt short of breath. He had done it. He had won La Giustizia Audace. She met his eyes as he walked down the stairs and saw the burning triumph there. For some reason the look made her stomach knot even more. There were two more people to do, and then the ceremony was over. People instantly began to murmur, shooting looks at Zuko as they speculated what he was going to do with his chance. Trying to ignore them, she pushed her way to the front just as all the teachers turned to congratulate Zuko.
"You… are aware that that award has… another privilege?"
Yeah. He's going to use it to beat the stuffing out of some of your pupils.
"Yes sir," Zuko answered him calmly. His eyes focused on Katara. "And, if you don't mind, I'd like to use my La Giustizia Audace now."
The principal shifted but could not say no, and so Zuko walked towards her, his eyes never leaving her face. She couldn't move, once again held in place by the burning intensity of his eyes. It was like the first day they had met, yet different; the power of his gaze had been different then. She realized with a jolt of cold shock as he stopped before her that the intensity she saw there was the same kind as after she had hugged him.
Is he going to hit me?
His hand came up and she watched it, unable to even flinch. But it did not make contact with her. Instead it gently grabbed her arm and pulled her the last few inches towards him. She had no time to blink before his lips touched hers.
If she had thought the impulse had been consuming and powerful before, then she had no word to describe it now. It was as though Zuko had lit a fire in her as soon as his lips had touched hers. Again they were the only two people in existence, and she was spinning, whirling, dancing in a void of pure emotion and bliss…
He pulled away from her and the world came back. She realized that she had closed her eyes only when she opened them again. Zuko was looking at her, his face one big question, his muscles tense as he waited for her to react. She vaguely noted the teachers were all staring, shocked, and waiting for the exact same thing.
"Sir?" she asked the headmaster in a shaky voice. "I know I didn't win the prize but may I…?"
"I think in this case it is needed," he replied, looking very uncomfortable.
They all expected her to slap him, and so every one of them were supremely shocked when Katara's rising hand instead grabbed the front of Zuko's hired tux and yanked his face down to hers. Again the sensation of kissing him reminded her of flying. She felt utterly at peace, as though that was what she was meant to be doing in life. Standing around and kissing Zuko. If that was her calling she'd take it gladly. When they broke apart, slightly breathless, she saw that the teachers had all scurried off. A dread took hold of her as she looked up into his familiar face and realized she didn't need to tutor him anymore: they would no longer be seeing each other after school. There would be no more visits to his house, no more stories from his jolly uncle…
She took a deep breath and silenced her thoughts by blurting, "You know, now you have a reputation to uphold. You'll have to keep on working hard. If you want, I could… You know…"
"How about Friday?" he asked almost immediately. "We could go see a movie and… study English."
A thrill of joy filled her and she tried very hard to keep her face straight.
"That could be arranged. Although to prepare you for the advanced level of English in the movie we'll have to start with simple sentences this week. We can easily do all the sentence types in a conversation that we can have… after school most days?"
"That sounds like a plan." He paused. "Can we start with a simple sentence now?"
He suddenly looked nervous and all she could do was nod, half curious and half anxious. He leant down until his face was right by her own, his unscarred cheek brushing hers.
"I think I'm in love with you," he whispered.
For a moment all she could do was remind herself how to breathe. Then she leaned upwards a bit until her mouth was by his ear.
"In think I'm in love with you, too," she whispered back.
She felt his warm fingers lace into hers and she was surprised by how well her hand fit, like it was meant to be there. But even more joyous than that revelation was the one that her hand would stay, snug and warm and comfortable, in his for a long time to come.