Zuko marveled.

That would be a great way to start this story, would it not? However, that is not how the story starts. No, no. In fact, there is little marveling at all done in this story, and the marveling that does happen is not Zuko's marvelment (for I truly cannot picture Zuko marveling).

Before I start this story, I feel as if I should introduce myself. I am the Narrator. I have no name—not one that can be pronounced in words. You know me. Quite well, in fact. I am in every story, every word, and everything thought ever written or spoken. Sometimes, the people whisper the story in my ears from their point of view.

But not this time. No, this time, I had to watch the story closely, and gather all the little pieces together, like a puzzle.

But there's still a piece missing. That's where you, the reader, come in. Hopefully by now, you're hooked. You want to hear what I'll say, what happens in this story.

So come a little closer. Put your ear to the keyhole.

Wait. Can you hear it coming? Can you hear me draw breathe—the scratching sound of pen on paper?

You can stop reading this story any time. You know that. I know that.

But, maybe you won't. So I shall begin. It all starts with….

Aang

Aang looked at Katara and blushed. It was early morning—the sun was still prying its sleeping eyes open—and a soft light was on her tan skin. She was beautiful. Her eyes, like the water, her element, stared out far. Farseeing eyes, he thought they were called. Her hair was down, all wavy and crimped from constantly being in a braid. Katara looked over at Aang suddenly and smiled. Aang blushed again and rubbed his bald head.

Hopefully, if you're reading this, you know who Aang is. I certainly know who Aang is. But then again, I have told his story so many times, that I feel I know him quite well. Aang. The avatar. The twelve year old boy who, even with the weight of the world on his small, twelve-year-old shoulders, still laughs and smiles like the kid that he is. Not the person he is becoming—the avatar. But, then again, maybe he all ready is the avatar. The lines between being grown into who you are and being who you were are often quite muddled, misted lines.

"Isn't it a great day, Aang?" Katara asked. No one's voice could compare to Katara's, Aang thought.

"It is! Too bad Appa isn't here to share it with us…" Aang replied mournfully. Katara placed her hand gently on his shoulder in a sisterly fashion (though a tiny spark of hope in Aang's stomach wanted it to be more).

"We'll find him, Aang. For now, let's just try to enjoy Ba Sing Se without getting, I don't know, killed, arrested, or found by Zuko or Azula and those other girls." Aang nodded, smiling inside. Not on the outside, no—but the inner, secret kind of smile that isn't quite ready to face the world yet.

It was a new morning. Something great could happen. Something terrible could happen. Something that seemed great but was really terrible could happen.

And all of those things did happen that morning. But, the most important part to this story, is something seemingly terrible. Something that wasn't so terrible at all. Or maybe it was someone. Someone named…

Zuko

Contrary to how it would seem, Zuko didn't really like waking up early—"rising with the sun", as many said. He preferred to sleep late.

But, it seemed, the world was not on his side that day. Now that I think about it, the world rarely ever is on his side. The world is often too busy with other people.

The question was, were other people too busy for him?

Of course, this was not the question going on in Zuko's mind. This is just what I am thinking—foreshadowing, I suppose. Really, I'm just impatient. A bad secret keeper. I'm bursting to tell the end of this story. But, alas, I can't. Right now, I have to tell the beginning.

Anyway, as I said, Zuko woke up as the sun was still dragging itself from behind the horizon. Zuko imagined that he and the sun were having the same thought—Another pointless, painful day of pretending that I'm someone I'm not, only to do it again and again. While I am not certain the sun has thoughts, I imagine this is not what it was thinking. But, again, that isn't the important part. The important part was that this was what Zuko was thinking.

"Good morning, Nephew. Would you like some tea? It is still hot," Iroh—the kind old man with the soft, warm soul—offered.

"No, Uncle. How many times must I tell you? We work in a tea shop. I am completely sick of tea. What I want is to sleep!" Zuko replied shortly, a scowl on his scarred face. At these words, Iroh's soft soul felt a little bruised, as soft, warm souls often do—for hard, cold souls can never feel bruised or cold, for they all ready are. Of course, as Iroh was determined not to trouble Zuko, he shrugged and sipped the steaming tea.

"Mmm, the tea is particularly fine today!"

"It is particularly fine everyday, Uncle. Or so you say." Zuko replied, staring straight ahead as he tied his apron on (getting ready to work at the teashop).

Now, I think I might have misled you. When I mentioned the cold, hard souls, I was not speaking of Zuko. His soul was a sad soul, though. Like a small tree struggling to sit it. It just needed someone to nurture it.

Not that there weren't people who would try. There was the girl, Jin, sort of (though this is a story for another time, probably toward the middle of my tale, the part in which you can feel the air around you stir, waiting for what's coming next), there was his Uncle, there was Song, and more would come.

Today, however, there was just a dirty apron and a stuffy teashop to look forward to.

But, as you know, people rarely ever get what they expect, for just when they think they know what's going to happen—when they think that Life is routine, boring… a pattern—something unexpected always happens.

The characters in my tale are all in place now. They're ready for what's coming—because they aren't ready. That's what makes this one such a great story.

The only wild card… the one thing we aren't sure of… is whether you are ready. Are you going to dive it? Or just dip your toe in and test the water?

It's all up to you. After all, this story is being told for you.

A/N: This story is written in a very different way from my usual ones. I know not much has happened yet, but it will. Like I said, you're the last part I need. So, please, review! There is more.

There are all ready pairings—my favourites, of course (the main one being Zutara. The rest is a surprise). Also, this is the longest fanfiction chapter I have ever written, so….

Well, review. I need reviews to want to continue. Even if you aren't sure—review and tell me that there's potential or something. Just review. It's nice.

xwlic