A/N: I don't own Avatar: The Legend of Aang.

Sorry

It is a smoky summer evening, and I am singing as I prepare dinner. Mother taught me how to cook before she taught me how to read; I can do it effortlessly, and maybe this is why I can concentrate on the song as well as chopping and stirring and kneading and, occasionally, tasting. "It's a long, looong way to Ba Sing Seeee…"

When it is nearly done, I open the window and call out into the street. "Kids! Dinner!" After a moment, my three pile in, muddy and happy and tired, and Feng is telling me about a bug he found, and Huilei is sniffing the meal, and little Li is sitting patiently at the table, waiting to be served, the only one who is ever patient or quiet.

"Go and get father, Li," I instruct, and he obediently trots off to find Chang. Soon, we are all sitting round the table, tucking into the meal.

"This is wonderful," smiles Chang, gazing at me for a moment too long and causing Feng to stick his tongue out. I admonish him. We are all chatting, happily filling each other in about our different days, telling jokes, stories.

And then there's a knock at the door. "I'll get it," says Huilei, but I tell her to sit back down because by now it's dark outside (and raining), and this is Ba Sing Se after all, a breeding ground for shady types. I stand up instead, and go through to the main room where the front door is. I don't want to let in a draft, so I shut the door to the kitchen. Rain is whispering on the roof above my head.

Another knock at the door, more insistent this time. A man, I think, the steady beat of thick knuckles on wood. I open the door.

There is a stranger standing there. He is taller than me. He (it is a he, I can tell) is wearing a dark cloak that casts his face into deep shadow; there are patches of pale skin lit up, iridescent in the light from the candles. Darkness seems to cling to him like a frightened child.

"Hello?"

"Jin?" he inquires in a voice that I cannot place; it is low and rough, but with an oddly refined edge to it that sounds vaguely familiar.

"That's me," I say boldly, though my knees are knocking underneath my skirt. Cloaked strangers rarely arrive on my doorstep. And then, "Do I know you?"

For some reason, the stranger finds this mildly funny. "Not at all. Not ever."

"Oh. Well." A pause, in which I try to make out his features and catch the glint of a golden eye. "If you're selling something, I'm not interested."

"I'm not selling. I came to tell you something." The stranger folds his arms, creasing his cloak. His hands are very thin and strong, like spiders. When I look at them, I get the feeling that I have seen this person before; maybe in a dream, maybe just passing him in the street, but I have seen him, and for some strange reason my girlhood comes back to me in that moment. The songs I used to sing, the friends I used to have, even the fountain I used to love visiting; all these things rush through me, sight smell sound taste touch, and it is as though a dam in my mind has been broken. I close my eyes, sway slightly – and then remember there is a stranger on my doorstep.

"What did you come to say?" I ask, regaining my composure.

"Sorry."

"Pardon?"

"Sorry." Sorry for being stupid. For taking the wrong side. For pretending, and lying, and fighting against everything that was good. Sorry for –"

"Who are you?" This has gotten far enough, and by now I am spooked out completely. I wonder whether I should call Chang, but no, I can handle this myself. I have encountered plenty of other madmen in my time, after all. The fact that this nutter is vaguely familiar doesn't change a thing.

"Just let me apologize. Let me apologize and go." He sounds desperate. "You don't know me. I just want to say that I'm sorry…"

"Who are you?" The rain is getting heavier.

"I'm sorry…"

"Who are you?" I am about to slam the door.

"I'm sorry for lighting the fountain."

I go completely still. "What?"

He is striding away, back down the street, through the rain, and now I remember. The scar; the stupid coupon; the fountain; It's complicated;everything. "Wait!" I call. "Wait!" I want to ask him how he found me, why he came, why he remembered me when I forgot all about him. It didn't mean anything to me then, but here he is, after – what? – sixteen years.

What happened?

"Wait!"

But he is almost gone, now. The darkness is embracing him like a friend, welcoming him into its depths, and I am calling, "Stop! Stop!" again and again but he doesn't hear me, and then I shout "LI!" and he halts, and turns around.

I go up to him slowly like a frightened little bird, scared that if I move too fast he might disappear. "Why?"

"My name isn't Li. It's Zuko."

"What?"

"Zuko – my name is Zuko."

Oh, help, no. Tanks outside the walls, a baby wailing, my mother almost fainting with fear. Fire Prince Zuko killed the Avatar; Fire Prince Zuko is victorious; the Fire Nation is going to win.

"Go away." My son is called Li.

"I will." He sighs. "You weren't supposed to remember me. You were just supposed to… to listen, like you did before."

"Go away." But it is me who is turning around, marching back to the house. Back to the warmth and Chang and the kids, and dinner, which I will not be able to eat, thanks to one of my many teenage infatuations coming back to be and telling me… telling me…

Sorry.

A/N: Jin didn't know what she was signing up for when she asked Zuko on a date! (Lots of drama, that's what she signed up for XD)

Ack. First person is hard to write, and I'd appreciate any advice on how to make the character sound more real/not wooden. Review, please, and have a nice day!