AN: Little Zuko readers: yes I am shamelessly reusing crew names and personalities. But these ones didn't get a life-changing field trip with their prince... The Avatar Hunt Pleasure Cruise does not count, as any of them would readily tell you.

Also, "%%%" means "I'm officially declaring that I'm too lazy to convert these million page breaks into real page breaks." And "%%%" is about the only symbol FF doesn't eat when I copy-paste, so it became my goto. So. *lazy salute of lazitude*

Also Also, I'm officially cross-posting all stories with AO3 now! Same username. If you're a person who-I-love-because-you-comment, I think I prefer comments over there rather than here. Because I can tell who I've replied to, holy crap. Why doesn't FF do that? Why? I have used AO3 for two days and I am in love. (Seriously though, use whichever site you find most convenient. Love you all, carry on.)

2. Breath Control

The airbender had made a nest in the holding cells. He'd taken his mattress, dragged it into the hall outside the bars, and piled blankets on top. Zuko wouldn't even be sure the boy was in there if the blankets weren't blowing—breezing?—with his every soft snore. Moving in a way blankets generally didn't. Except when an airbender was sleeping under them, apparently.

Well. Great to see how much the child trusted Zuko to not lock him in. Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose—which had to be some kind of headache record, this soon after dawn—and tried not to take it personally. The kid was scared and alone and acting as if Zuko had no honor.

Since Zuko legally didn't, it was irrational to be angry over yet another person he'd just met assuming that fact. Like his status was branded on him for all the world to see and okay, yeah, it was too early for this. He needed to punch some fire, and not think for awhile.

"Airbender."

"Mmph," the pile of blankets said.

"Airbender, wake up. You will be assisting me in training today."

The blankets rolled over. Zuko couldn't tell if that meant the boy was facing towards or away from him. It was… a pile of blankets. Where had he even gotten so many…?

...The storage closet was down the hall. Zuko was going to need to have a talk with the quartermaster about locking doors per regulation. Also, he updated his cultural notes on airbenders to include 'open, shameless thieving.' Which… did not contradict the idea that they put little value on worldly possessions. Maybe property was communal, in the boy's enclave?

Or maybe he was just a thief.

"Airbender."

A hand emerged from the blankets. And waved him off.

Zuko reached in, and dragged the monk out by the scruff of his robes.

%%%

Okay so Aang had maybe overreacted a little to being woken up by an angry firebender grabbing him but he didn't think—ahh!—that this was—spirits that was close—an appropriately proportionate reaction—

And really he hadn't even meant to blow the prince into a wall. Or down the hall. Or into the other wall.

He had definitely intended the part where he'd wrapped Zuko up in a blanket and run away, but by that point there had been a lot of fire so Aang considered it completely justified and—AHHH!

%%%

Iroh sipped tea, and watched his nephew train with the airbender. They trained up and down the levels of the ship and across the deck. They trained while the crew made every effort to jump out of their way (and were somewhat hampered by the airbender's proclivity for leaping startling distances to hide directly behind them). They trained with live fire, and a considerable amount of localized wind.

It was certainly instructive.

%%%

Zuko wasn't panting. He wasn't. But if his Uncle said breath control he was going to—to—

"Nephew," Uncle said.

"Don't. Say it."

Uncle sipped his tea. He didn't say it. "I was going to ask, in light of our new guest, if you still intended to allow the men shore leave at the Southern Air Temple. Will we be stopping there at all, or do you have a new heading on your quest?"

Across the deck, the airbender was perched on a railing. He was panting, too (not that Zuko was, because he wasn't). When he caught Zuko's gaze, he grinned. And then looked immediately terrified of having grinned. Zuko scowled at one of those reactions, and didn't think too hard about which.

"I'm going to interrogate him. We'll hold course for now."

"Good luck, nephew." Uncle continued not-to-say-it, but he made a point of taking in a deep breath, and letting out a relaxed sigh.

Zuko grit his teeth, and calmly strode towards the airbender. The airbender responded to his completely peaceful approach by leaping to his feet—still balancing on the rail—and starting those Agni-cursed swirling motions with his arms that hadn't looked nearly as ridiculous and completely overpowered evasive cheating in Zuko's scrolls.

"Stop running!"

"I wasn't running. I was, ah—relocating?" the airbender replied. Still clearly intending to run. His eyes kept flicking from Zuko's scar to his hands and back again.

Zuko turned his face to the side. And forced his hands open, which made it significantly harder to call flames unintentionally. "What do you know about the Southern Air Temple?"

"Nothing. At all." Little breezes followed his hands, harder to anticipate and significantly less flashy than a firebender's unconscious bending. "Well, I know that it's there. But… I've never been?"

He narrowed his eyes. "You're having breakfast with me. Come here."

"I'm not really hun—"

"That was not a request."

"...Yes sir, Commander Prince Zuko Sir."

At least one member of the crew looked at the kid with wide eyes. Then at Zuko. Then tried very hard to look like they hadn't heard anything at all.

…They were all going to be calling him that behind his back by the end of second shift.

%%%

Aang had a feeling this was an interrogation. He also had a feeling that the prince of an evil war-starting-and-continuing empire should be… well, better at it?

"Just tell me where they are!" Prince Zuko shouted. And he looked really scary, even if he hadn't had the scar he'd have the scary face down pat. But, ah. He wasn't actually doing anything? Except to Aang's eardrums.

"Sorry," Aang shrugged. "I forgot."

"You forgot. Where you live."

He flashed a sheepish grin. "You should see how lost I get when I have Appa. But it's really exciting finding new places! And new friends!"

It was kind of mesmerizing, watching the flames on Zuko's hands. They shifted shades with how mad he got, but they didn't actually burn anything. Ever. He had really good control for someone with really bad control.

"Are you even paying attention?" the prince snapped.

"Oh, sorry. Hey, could you pass the rice?"

Zuko very, very grudgingly passed the rice. It had probably been getting cold sitting on the table, but it was nice and steamy by the time it reached him.

"Wow, firebending is really convenient. If I was the Avatar, I would definitely ask you to teach me how to do that. Just let me know if you ever need something cooled down! Or aired out."

Aang wondered, with alarmed fascination, just how on fire the fire prince could get before actually lighting himself on fire. What air temperature did it have to be for sleeves to spontaneously combust?

...He probably shouldn't experiment with that.

...Which was a little like saying he shouldn't ride the hog-monkeys and he shouldn't fly Appa upside down unless everyone in the saddle was an airbender and a lot of other things he probably shouldn't do.

"Hey, could you pass the soy sauce, too? But try not to heat it, it's better cold."

%%%

Zuko passed the soy sauce. And somehow managed not to curl up in a ball and die while he was at it. When it came to Avatar hunting, most of the things he interrogated were… books. Scrolls. The occasional faded mural in an overgrown ruin clinging precariously to the underside of a cliff. It had been a hundred years; living leads were a little scarce. Sometimes he had to intimidate his way past an ancient temple guardian or stomach spirits-forsaken onion-banana juice, but he hadn't actually interrogated a person before. Not seriously. Normally, if someone knew an old spirit tale or a half-remembered story from their grandmother, he could just sic Uncle and a pot of tea on them, and sit back to take notes.

He didn't think that would work here. The airbender was obviously lying, but he was lying to protect his home, not some scrap of a story that couldn't get anyone hurt. It would take more than tea and proverbs to get it out of him.

The royal tutors had never covered extracting information from a prisoner. Zuko was… familiar. With the general concepts. But he was a prince of the blood; if he needed information extracted, other people were supposed to do that for him. Somehow, though, the Wani's budget hadn't had room to keep a torturer's services on retainer. Music night didn't count.

...At least he'd taken them into a room for this. If he'd done it on deck, the crew would be pantomiming his failure until the next port.

"Hey, is this your room?" the airbender asked, looking around with way too much interest to possibly be healthy. "Wow, your futon is the same as mine. So… I'm sleeping on a bed good enough for a prince?"

Zuko was the one doing the interrogating here, not the airbender. So he didn't tell the little monk how they'd bought the futons in bulk. For a discount. Or that Uncle had stolen the invoice off his desk and used his own private funds to do so, and Zuko would pay him back one day, because getting new A-Man-Needs-His-Rest beds for himself and the crew was not his fourteenth birthday present.

"You could really use some better decorations, though. Those fire hangings look like they came with the ship."

Zuko didn't curl up and die. Except on the inside.

%%%

"How did your interrogation go?" Uncle asked. He was now playing his own one-man pai sho game, and carefully composing a letter of moves for his friends.

"...We'll maintain course for the temple."

"Thanks for breakfast, Zuko!" the airbender shouted. Across the entire deck. "I mean, thanks for breakfast, Commander Prince Zuko Sir!"

%%%

"...The ocean is really big," her brother said. Unhelpfully.

"Yes, Sokka. I've noticed."

The Water Tribe siblings kept flying. And keeping an eye out for one very small ship on one really big ocean.

%%%

It took three more days to make it to the island of the Southern Air Temple. If it had been four, Zuko wasn't sure he could have stopped Lieutenant Jee from tying the airbender to a railing. Or a propeller. The kid was just… everywhere. Primarily where he shouldn't be. And he was ruthlessly friendly about it, so most of the crew was left awkwardly floundering on how to politely tell him off.

The lieutenant had no such social constraints.

"Did I TELL you to stop?" Jee snapped at the pikesman. Who had rather quickly aborted their practice when the airbender had raced past riding a ball of air, because apparently that was a thing he did when he got bored. He just.. circled the deck. Endlessly. "If the mosquito-fly wants to get pinned, oblige him!"

"Wow," the boy said, coming over to hover by Zuko's side. "Your captain is kind of mean."

"Is there a reason you're talking to me?" Because Zuko could not fathom one. He didn't actually mind, he was only nominally observing the drills while actually watching the coastline slip by—the southern archipelago was beautiful, a fact he would never admit to Uncle—but. But he really didn't know why the airbender would want to talk to him. With the exception of Uncle, people didn't just come up and do that. They hadn't at the palace, they certainly didn't on the ship, and someone sauntering over to talk with the scarred teenager in a port town was the quickest way to spot a lady of the night. Or gentleman, because apparently Zuko didn't look like he had a preference. (But at least he looked like he had money?)

The kid tilted his head. With a smooth motion of his hands, he dispersed the airball, landed back on his feet, and dropped the smile for once in his life. "Why are you going to the air temple? There's nothing there."

Oh, the monk had an ulterior motive for talking to him. Zuko's world made sense again.

He stared down into grey eyes. Down, because the kid was twelve. Twelve and naive as a baby rabbit-squirrel coming up to a fox-cat to play, and if that wasn't a sign he'd never seen death, Zuko didn't know what was. And those were his not-so-distant relatives up there.

Zuko swallowed. And started lying, hard.

"I'm looking for traces of the Avatar. Scrolls and… other things. They say he was raised at the Southern Temple. It's the only place in the world I can be sure he's been."

The airbender's face got all scrunchy with skepticism, which was a fairly typical reaction to Zuko's attempts at lying. "You said you've been hunting him for three years. Why haven't you been here already?"

"I have! But it doesn't hurt to check again. We're in the area." Zuko gestured broadly at the gray seas and the green-topped cliffsides towering around them. See? The area. They were in it.

"...Was there anyone there?"

Zuko wasn't good with people. He knew that. And he knew that whatever sad-strange fear-hope was on the airbender's face, he couldn't even begin to parse. So he shrugged his shoulders, and leaned against the railing, and watched a school of puffinphins play in the waves off the ship's bow.

"No. No one."

"Oh."

The kid got really quiet after that. Zuko… could do quiet.

%%%

Maybe they were hiding.

Zuko was the most obviously Fire Nation person ever, so probably the monks had seen him coming from miles away, and made sure the temple was empty before he got anywhere near. They were just waiting for a real airbender to come back, that's when they'd show themselves.

They had to be hiding.

Aang sat down, dangling his legs through the railing, and stared up at the scrub-dotted cliffs. The fire prince kept standing next to him, like he was trying to be supportive.

Then Aang remembered that he'd basically stolen the prince's spot on deck and probably Zuko was just being too stubborn to give it up, and the world made sense again.

%%%

They dropped anchor on the northern coast, where the land formed as close to a natural harbor as the island had. It wasn't the best: the air nomads and their flying bison herds hadn't been thinking of storm anchorages when they'd chosen where to settle. It was too open for Zuko's liking. But the depth readings were good, and the beaches provided inland access even to people who didn't scale cliffs for fun, and there was fresh water not too far in.

His ship probably had the most accurate map of this island made in the last hundred years. Maybe even before that; the air nomads had been great travelers, but not great map makers. The freedom of the air didn't like being pinned to measurements on parchment. Or at least, that was what Zuko thought. He'd been to three of the cardinal temples and countless minor ruins, but he hadn't yet found a map made by the monks.

He realized he could ask.

"Did your people make maps?" It was the first thing either of them had said for eight degrees of the sun. This close to the south pole's summer, that was roughly an hour by the sand clocks that Uncle kept in his rooms (and Zuko really did find it bizarre that in the Earth Kingdom, the hours of the day were as steady as bedrock, instead of changing with the light Agni shone on different places and seasons. And he hated the mechanical clocks some Fire Nation craftsman were starting to turn out, with their perfectly regulated ticks and complete disregard for the changeability and adaptation that Agni himself had blessed their nation with). What did the Southern Water Tribe use? What did the nomads? "And what do you use for clocks? Do you have clocks, or is time," he moved his hands, in kind of a wibbly-wobbly manner, "not something monks keep track of?" Because the world was impermanent and time an illusion, and… yeah. Zuko had read more air nomad philosophy scrolls than was strictly healthy for a sixteen-year-old who stomped scowl-blushing away from port town hookers.

...The two might be related.

The airbender was still sitting on deck, his legs dangling over open sea and his arms on the rail above. He looked… bemused. "Of course we have maps. Um, what's a clock?"

"It's a… a thing. For measuring time?" Oh Agni the monk looked confused, maybe removing themselves from the world for a hundred years had shifted their culture even further from anything resembling normal. "Which is, uh—it's a way of dividing the day into equal segments, for… for coordinating activities, I guess, and—"

...And now the boy was grinning. Because he'd been joking. Of course. Zuko shifted into a scowl, and turned away to yell at his lieutenant. His lieutenant, in turn, yelled at the crew. And everyone felt better.

Zuko's own preparations had been done days ago. He double-checked that the mice-hoppers hadn't gotten into his food again (they really needed to get another mimic-catopus, Sushi was getting old). He triple-checked that he'd remembered to bring the good rope. He quadruple-checked that uncle wanted to do this with him.

"I can handle it on my own," he scowled.

"I know you can, Prince Zuko." Uncle shifted his weight, doing that alarming thing where he looked like he was going to hug him in front of the crew and only just contained himself in time. "But you should not have to."

Zuko didn't thank him. But he nodded, a little jerkily. Then he double-checked Uncle's food and triple-checked Uncle's rope and also the rest of his climbing gear, because Uncle was a little careless with maintaining it sometimes, and—

"Sushi. No."

—Evicted one self-packed cat from Uncle's bags. The old girl changed from spare-clothes-red to deck-gray as she crawled out, her fur sparking between colors as she wrap-cuddled around Zuko's leg with all of hers, her tenta-tails curling happily behind her. He scratched behind her ears as he very firmly and securely closed the bag. He was not accidentally carrying a cat up a cliffside again, and neither was Uncle. They had enough weight with the urns alone. It would be even worse on the way back, especially if they had a cat with a stomach full of native species.

"I didn't know you had a cat!"

Sushi flattened herself against the deck and turned steel-gray (with a dabbling of rust for authenticity, even the cat made fun of his ship—) as the miniature tornado approached. Of course small animals would be natural airbender attractants.

"...Uh, where did she go?"

"She's a mimic-catopus. Figure it out." Zuko shifted his own pack just a little, to hide her lump from view. He stood, and crossed his arms, and stared down at the kid (and didn't twitch at all as Sushi slowly, slowly dragged one tenta-paw after the other as she edged her way between his legs and back towards the door to the lower levels.) "You are to remain on this ship and obey every order Lieutenant Jee gives you. Do you understand?"

"What if he orders me off the ship? Because those would be two conflicting—" the airbender was paying more attention to searching the ground than to this conversation.

(Helmsman Kyo quietly closed the door that Sushi had fled through. Very rarely, in limited circumstances, Zuko loved his crew.)

"You will listen to Lieutenant Jee," Zuko barked, "or I will have to court-martial him upon my return for flaying a prisoner alive. That would be unfortunate. He'd be hard to replace."

"...Uh."

So the monk didn't know when Zuko was joking, either. Good to know.

"Lieutenant, the ship is in your hands. We'll be back in a week."

The crew had readied a rowboat. Zuko set his and Uncle's bags in it, made one last check for cats, gave one last glare to the airbender hovering at the ship rail, and set out.

" 'He'd be hard to replace'?" Uncle quirked an eyebrow, once they were a fair distance away.

Zuko finally let himself smirk.

%%%

Land. Sweet blessed not-just-ocean-in-all-directions land. Sokka slid off the bison and considered kissing it, but Appa turned and started eating it before he could. Well, the bushes on it. And the grass. And at least one unfortunately scrumptious young tree.

"He might be faster than a canoe," Sokka commented, "but he sure eats a lot more."

So, islands. They'd found islands. Maybe they'd even find a ship, soon?

...Once their flying canoe was done refueling. And sleeping.

Sokka approved of both of these activities. The bison, he decided, was an acceptable mode of transportation.

%%%

Zuko had been gone for three days and Aang was going a little crazy because what was the fire prince even doing up in the temple? He said he'd already been here before, why had he needed to come back, had he found some trail last time and now he was hunting down the last of Aang's people and, and—

"Boy! Those komodo-rhino hides had better be silky enough to wipe a noble woman's posh posterior or I will tan yours."

Aang grumbled, and kept scrubbing at Cherry Daifuku's back with the pumice stone. The rhino lowed appreciatively. In the next pen over, Wasabi Peas was rolling in the only patch of mud on the entire beach how did he even find that, now Aang was going to have to wash him all over again—

"Who even named you?"

It was mostly a rhetorical question, but the crewman scrubbing down the saddles actually answered. "The prince. We think he was going through a food phase. It's stuff he could probably get any time he wanted at the palace, right?"

"So why doesn't he just go back?" Aang was maybe a little frustrated. Maybe. And could Cherry please just hold still, he never knew a komodo-rhino could be ticklish (he never knew he could get this close to a rideable animal and want nothing better than to stomp away from it).

"You have seen our ship, right?" the crewman said.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Small?" the crewman prompted. "Rusty? No railings on the lookout tower? Galley food approaching vegetarian whether we want it to or not?"

Aang felt like this was going somewhere. He just wasn't sure where.

The crewman sighed. "Banished prince, kid. He's not going back. Welcome to the Avatar Hunt Pleasure Cruise. Next stop: wherever he throws a dart at the map. It's a good way to see the world, at least. My little sisters really like my letters."

"Bad place to get promoted, though," the woman trying to fit a new bridle to Melon Dango's head said.

"But," another crewman, the one trying to trim Dorayaki's toenails said, "a really good place to avoid actual combat."

Lieutenant Jee glowered over at them. "If you ladies—"

"Excuse me, sir?"

"I said ladies, Teruko! Are there any actual ladies here to take offense? If you ladies have time to gossip, you have time to finish before you get any lunch!"

Aang joined the chorus of groans.

And turned his eyes towards the mountain again, and the temple he knew was up there. There was smoke coming from the mountain peak. A thin stream of it, since yesterday, and what was Zuko doing to his home.

When the groaning-complaining-joking crew was finally allowed to trudge towards the firepit the cook had started for lunch, Aang groaned right after them. Slowly. Until he was the last one. And Lieutenant Jee took his eyes off of him for just one second—

Aang disappeared quick as a mimic-catopus. But, ah. With less changing colors, and more diving into the underbrush.

%%%

"...Should we go after him?" Kyo whispered.

"I really don't want to," Teruko replied.

And Lieutenant Jee resolved not to chase the airbender that his entire crew hadn't been able to catch while contained on the fleet's smallest ship. Not into an island forest. Not until after lunch.

%%%

The bison was a lot faster when properly rested and fueled. This was not a flying canoe, this was a sailboat on the leading edge of a typhoon.

"Woo!" Sokka screamed into the wind. And then added a preemptive brotherly, "Shut up, Katara."

"I didn't say anything," she said, with sisterly smugness. Like she wasn't just as surprised that their bison-boat could not only fly, but fly so fast they could probably cross continents at the speed of plot.

There was another island ahead. And a harbor. And a Fire navy ship.

%%%

There was a white cloud flying against the wind, circling their location. Lieutenant Jee resolved not to deal with that until after lunch, either.

The rest of the crew very studiously and with no particular discussion on the matter finished their meal while staring at the sand. They had three years of experience at not seeing anything even vaguely spirit or Avatar related; not while on shore leave.

%%%

Zuko was sweaty and sooty and exhausted, but almost done. Which was good; he actually would have time to look around for any Avatar clues he'd missed. Not that he couldn't have extended the time they had here, there was food and water and the crew wouldn't complain about more time lounging on the beach. But he liked to keep a schedule. To make one, and stick to it. It made it feel like he was doing something, getting somewhere, even if the somewhere was just loops on a map. Patrolling the world for for Avatar clues, like maybe this time past Whale Tail Island or Chameleon Bay he'd find something. Right. Zuko ran a sleeve over his face, let out a breath, and ran to help Uncle. Who was just supposed to help deal with them, not carry them up and down a million stairs.

"Give me that," Zuko snapped. But he accepted the cloth-wrapped bundle with great care. It was… small. Way smaller than it should be, it made him sick when they were that small and he could smell the fire on them and fire shouldn't ever be so wrong—

"They are not heavy, nephew. And I am not so old you need to worry about my back."

"Yes. You are."

"Ah, but it is my heart that you wound."

Uncle's banter was… was nice. Zuko didn't have to reply, Uncle didn't expect him to. The words just… washed over. Like the sounds of the sparrowkeets, and that one chittering lemur that kept trying to steal their food even though the trees were full of fruit, and Zuko was regretting not bringing Sushi along to guard their bags, respect for native wildlife be damned.

He let out a breath, and carried the bundle downstairs. They'd picked a spot off the main courtyard. It was best to do this over stone, especially smooth stone they could sweep properly afterwards because… because it was best. But doing it in the center of the temple, like they had any right to be here or be doing this—they couldn't. He lay the bundle on the fire-marked spot they'd used for all the others, and took up position on one side. Uncle stood opposite. Together they took in a breath, and started the flames.

Cremation didn't take much power, but it did take focus. Low hot flames that would turn even bones to ash.

It went quicker, with the small ones.

"Breath control, nephew," Uncle reminded. So Zuko steadied himself, and just… breathed.

When it was done, Uncle dispersed the fire and the heat, and began sweeping up what remained. Zuko went back up the stairs for the next one. The urns they'd brought were small, almost disrespectfully so, but they hadn't known how many they would need. He hadn't… hadn't counted, last time. So he'd had to buy ones that were easy to pack, so they could bring a lot. It looked like he'd over-estimated. Which was… it was good. It also said something about his memories of this place from last time, but it was good.

...Oh Agni he needed to bathe, he was filthy. Just a few more. He carefully picked up the next shroud-wrapped pile. Fire Nation this time, and why had Great-Grandfather left troops behind. It was disrespectful. Not that—not that he had any right to presume to know what Sozin had been thinking, he was a great man with incredible vision to lead their nation into the future—

But who did that?

"What are you doing?" a voice that was way too young to be here asked.

Zuko startled. Hard. But he didn't drop the shroud as he spun around. "You're supposed to be on the ship!"

"You're lighting things on fire at my temple!"

"You gave me your word you'd stay—"

"How could I stay when you're up here doing something horrible—"

"—Not that I should have ever trusted the word of an air nomad, all the stories say you weren't bound by contracts like any civilized person—"

"—And—"

"—And the first thing you ever did was lie to me. Twice. So great, here's the third time, does it make you happy to break my trust?"

"Don't yell over me! You threatened to burn down a village and then you took me prisoner and now you're burning things at my temple, what have you ever done that I could trust!"

"I didn't break my word!"

"That doesn't count when all you're doing are horrible things!"

"I don't always do horrible things! If I did I would still be home!"

"How does that even makes sense!"

"I don't know!"

They were both panting. Again. Zuko was willing to admit it this time, because he was covered in soot and trying not to think what the soot was and apparently he was a terrible horrible person, and if there was one person in the world allowed to stand in the courtyard of an air temple and say that to his face it was definitely an airbender.

"What are you doing?" the little monk repeated.

"...Laying their spirits to rest," Zuko said. Maybe too quietly, because for a moment it looked like the monk hadn't heard him.

Then he realized the kid just didn't understand.

And then, suddenly, he did.

"...Oh."

"Sit down, airbender." Zuko set his own burden down as quick as he respectfully could, and then he made the little monk sit down. Wait, bad idea, not here—not when the kid understood what the half-dozen shrouds around them meant. Zuko grabbed his arm and marched him to one of the side areas, a pretty little terrace overlooking an amazing view of island and ocean and oddly moving clouds that neither of them were really seeing. Then he sat him down, on a ledge built into the wall. Two hands pressing down on the shoulders of one very small airbender who looked weird, like he was somewhere between passing out and punching Zuko or maybe calling up a tempest to tear this whole place to the ground. Zuko should… he should get Uncle, was what he he should do. But that would mean leaving the kid alone, and that seemed like the worst possible idea—

"Breath control," Zuko blurted. "Here, come on. Just… breathe with me."

So they did. For awhile. They just breathed.

"Everyone died?" the monk asked. Which was Zuko's cue to take his hands off his shoulders, to stop touching him. He leaned back against a wall nearby, instead.

"Not everyone," Zuko said. "Your people made it."

Which… wasn't the right thing to say, apparently, because the kid leaned forward and hugged his knees. "How did this happen?"

Zuko didn't know if that was a how that was a how, or a how that was a why. He answered the first. It was easier. "Sozin's comet. It, um. It comes every hundred years, and it… gives firebenders more power." He swallowed. "A lot more. It… wouldn't have really been a fight."

"They wouldn't have fought," the airbender said. "We're pacifists."

Pacifists backed into a corner. Which was a lot like uncle's cornered mouse proverb the other day. There had been… rooms here, rooms he was glad he and Uncle had cleared out so the kid would never see. Places the monks and their students had definitely fought back. Especially that one guy, with the necklace—the bones had been in layers around him, what kind of commander sent his men into a kill zone like that? What kind of pressure had the troops been under that they went? Zuko didn't understand, he didn't.

"I don't understand," the airbender said.

So Zuko slid down the wall and sat next to him, and they didn't understand together. Just breathed. Uncle probably checked on him at some point, he'd been gone a long time, but he didn't see the old dragon and whatever Uncle had seen was apparently not enough to get him to rescue Zuko from sitting next to the great-grandson of the people his great-grandfather had murdered. Not murdered, killed—he couldn't think murdered, that made it sound like it was wrong, and if he thought it too much he might say it and if he said it someone might hear and then they'd tell because they always did, and he didn't need father thinking he was harboring treasonous thoughts on top of every other way he'd failed the man.

...Zuko really, really needed to go find a nice place to kick around fire for awhile. But the airbend—the prisoner's health was his responsibility, so he stayed.

"The comet comes every hundred years," the little monk said, eventually.

"Yeah."

"It's been a hundred years."

"Yeah."

"When will it be here?"

"The end of summer," Zuko said. "Well, the northern hemisphere's summer. Not this summer. About eight months."

Something in the kid's face tightened. "What will you do with it this time?"

%%%

Aang watched the fire prince closely. He kept expecting… fire. Especially after he asked that. But Zuko just leaned his head back against the wall, and shrugged.

"Watch. We're scheduled to be around the eastern edge of the Earth Kingdom by then."

His hands tightened over his knees. "What will your father do with it?"

Zuko didn't answer. Just… shrugged again, a little, and turned his face away.

...Aang had to stop the Fire Lord, before the comet came.

The Avatar had to stop the Fire Lord, before the comet came.

%%%

AN: Ever wondered why the Southern Air Temple was full of bones, but the Western was clear? If the White Lotus or anyone else cared enough to lay the airbenders to rest, they'd have done it everywhere. Which implies to me that no one particularly cares. So, who do we know is a secret softy who had three years of nothing-much-to-do and a lot of carefully repressed guilt about his ancestor's actions, and who definitely visited the Western temple before the Gaang got there? I'm totally nominating Zuko for the Not As Bad of a Grave Desecrator As He Could Have Been award. Also, Zuko had to have done something besides just angst and shout disrespectfully for three years, or Uncle wouldn't have had nearly as much faith that his nephew still had a good heart.

Cheating-at-Pai-Sho!Zuko totally scheduled this air temple visit for after the south pole trip so he wouldn't be shivering in artic seas while also super depressed. Good mental self-care, Zuko. Pat-on-back. Hug your cat.

On a lighter note, I maintain that Sushi is canon. What self-respecting ship doesn't have a ship's cat? If you look very closely at the background of ship scenes in the show, you may be so fortunate as to spot the elusive mimic-catopus in its native habitat, ie, mooching off of sailors.

Trivia: Sushi was originally a chameleon-cat, and then I started writing an author's note about how I know that's not how real chameleon coloring works but a mimic-octopus-cat sounds like the start of a Lovecraftian shipboard horror. At which point my brain fizzled because why was I talking myself out of that, exactly? So. Please enjoy the newly edited eldritch horror, which can be found purring in the dark void of Zuko's room at night. Possibly while attached to the ceiling by its many many tenta-paws.

The name 'Sushi' also got about a million times more hilarious when applied to an octopus. Sorry, I meant catopus.

Replies to guests:

Unamed, ch 1: Glad you're liking it! And oh man, I didn't even think of having Zuko and Aang run across power-switching shenanigans… ehehe.

Ale, ch 1: Thank you! Fanfic is ridiculously addictive to write and suddenly I have all the ideas.

m, ch 1: Unclear if pleased 'ahhhhhhhhh' or danger 'ahhhhhhhh'. Going to assume the chin emoji ate you. RIP m.

Sweet Caroline, ch 1: Thoughtful-angry is definitely how I picture Zuko before the show began. He's like a kid who's been on summer vacation too long and maybe traveling around the world was exciting at first (if he just repressed how this all got started) but now he just really wants something to happen. And he does NOT mean another game of pai sho, Uncle! *internal scream of frustration intensifies* He's still a good kid, somewhere under the layers of shouting.

Blackdrake, ch 1: Here's hoping you enjoy the ride. :)