AN: This is an AU based off the premise that Zuko ran away from home at the age of ten. It is currently a one shot but may turn in to a larger fic later if anyone wants me to continue.

Please read and enjoy! Reviews are much appreciated.

Disclaimer: If I owned Avatar, M. Night Shaymalan would be out of a carreer.

An Unlikely Meeting

The air was dank and moist. The smell of alcohol, sweat, and unwashed bodies permeated the establishment, clinging to its patrons like perfume. The lighting was dim and men of various ages and occupations sat sprawled around uneven wooden tables scattered in a haphazard arrangement around the building. In one corner of the room, the tables and chairs had been shoved aside and a group of men watched expectantly as two others participated in some sort of gambling game, their shouts drowning each other out and drawing eyes from the rest of the room's occupants. As the die were cast once more, the door opened, letting in the cool night breeze.

A figure clothed in black, a deep hood shrouding his face in shadows, walked quietly into the building, the door closing behind him without a sound. He was not very tall, about a head shorter than most of the others around him. It was impossible to judge his age or build, yet he wove through the tables and chairs with an assassin's grace and held himself as an experienced swordsman. Sheathed dual blades hung across his back and dark boots encased his feet. He made no sound as he walked, seeming to glide across the wooden floor. Several heads turned in the direction of the curious stranger but most were too drunk to pay attention or merely did not care.

In a more secluded corner of the room, at a table all to himself, sat another man behind a Pai Sho table, legs folded under him in a half lotus position. A single lantern hung above him, casting light on the game board. Beside him was a leather bag and a tray of tea. He was an aging man in unassuming garb, yet there was no doubt in the minds of those he had played that he was a Pai Sho master.

The dark figure approached the table and sat down across from him.

"May I have this game?" he asked. His voice was young and slightly hoarse and the man across from him ever-so-slightly raised a brow.

"The guest has the first move," the elder replied by way of invitation.

Gloved fingers reached into the folds of his cloak and drew out a Pai Sho piece, placing it in the center of the board. There was a much more noticeable raise in the older man's eyebrows before his face settled into a rather knowing, neutral expression.

"I see you favor the white lotus gambit." The man cupped his hands upward. "Not many cling to the old ways."

The younger imitated the gesture. "Those who do can always find a friend."

The older man made the next move, placing his piece in one of the corners followed by his opponent's. The two continued to lay tiles around the border of the board in quick, precise movements. It was as if the two were recreating a message and each piece represented a word to be deciphered. When the two stilled, their pieces had formed a pattern around the board with the white lotus tile in the very center.

The elder leaned back and studied his companion, eyes then scanning the room for possible eavesdroppers. After a moment he leaned towards the other, extending his hand.

"Welcome, brother."

A smaller, gloved hand grasped his forearm in greeting.

"And what is your name?"

Deep in the shadows of his hood, the young man smirked. "They call me the Blue Spirit."