If
you could step in into my head,
Tell me, would you still know me?
"Who's that?" she asked, her fingers skimming the face through plastic.
"That'd be my mother," Zuko said, throwing an arm around her. The photo album lay undisturbed on their laps, one that (he regretted to say) had been covered in dust when he found it in his cabinet.
"She's beautiful," Katara said, smiling faintly at the small boy who sat next to her. They were sitting next to a small pond, feeding ducks and testing the water with their hands.
"I'm sorry she's gone," she said quietly, more to herself than to him. He kissed the side of her head, giving her shoulder a quick squeeze, "Me too."
"Zuko," she said, closing the album and placing it on the coffee table in front of them, "I know he was your father and everything, but… don't you kind of… I don't know… hate him?"
He sighed and looked at her face, with blue eyes that indicated that even if he said no, she knew that yes, he did. And so did she.
"Yes, I do," he said softly, "There were times back then when I would wake up calling for her, and remember what he did."
She leaned her head on his shoulder and grasped his hand as he continued, "There were times I wanted to kill him."
"I know," she said.
"There was a time I almost did," he said hesitantly, as if at any minute, she would bolt from the couch and run out the door.
"I know, Zuko," she said patiently.
"I hate him because he ruined my perfect family, even though I never had it to begin with," he chuckled darkly, "Maybe I hated him because he made me see it. Because he made the break clean…"
He turned his head to her, and found only a smile, "I know."
"Sometimes I wish I had killed him when I had the chance," he said.
"Zuko, stop," she said, "Whatever you say next is not going to send me off to the police station, you know."
"Not even the fact that I once tried to smother my sister in her sleep?" he said.
She smiled, "Eh, I tried it too. The day of my graduation night, at her party."
He gaped and she shrugged,
"It's overrated."
