A/N: Well, that officially killed me, and I'm not entirely satisfied with it still, but it's done!
In order to not disrupt the flow of the end of the story, I'll put my review request up here: Guys, as I write this, the story has one hundred and twenty two hits and four reviews. Could we maybe fix that, please?
Strangely, this last-minute piece is my first completed multi-chapter fic. Woooo! -streamers-
Katara searched the guarded face before her, trying so hard to find something – anything – that would give away something he was feeling. Even when he gave that wry smile, she couldn't tell what lay behind it. She looked from his firmly set jaw to his slightly furrowed brow, and finally to his golden eyes. The scar didn't interest her in the slightest. A scar would not tell emotion, would not reveal the dreams and motivations of her almost-friend. All that a scar could tell was the past, not the present or the future, and it was those that she was interested in. The past could wait.
"Do you come here to think a lot?" she tried, hoping that something would give him away. Not being able to read him unbalanced her, made her feel as if the situation was entirely too far out of her control. Only then did she realize that she had asked a stupid question. Of course he didn't; the carnival was only here once a year. That was the most he could ever come to this secluded little corner of the universe – but why he would want to, she wasn't completely sure.
She emerged from the maze, panting hard and for some reason shaken.
"But Father-"
"We have some things to discuss, Zuko." Cold. So cold, but with the slightest undertone of fire that she instinctively knew shouldn't be released.
"Told you." The little gremlin of a girl lurked behind her father, whose business suit and briefcase contrasted almost comically with his surroundings.
He didn't answer for a few moments, but his face remained the same.
"I haven't come here since last time."
He didn't have to explain what "last time" meant.
"Zuko…" she was unsure where to begin. Hell, she was unsure of a lot of things. She didn't know why she had been so worried about him after he left with his family, for instance. Maybe it was the sight of his terrifying father; maybe it was the dark little girl who seemed to follow in his footsteps. Maybe it was that clumsy waltzing and the sheepish smile…
"Father, I don't want to go." The words were defiant, but the speaker unsure.
"Really?" No, no, don't let the fire out –
Slam.
The briefcase's metal corner left a dent in the lurid green wall, a few feet to the right of the entrance…a few feet to the left of Katara. She flinched back, fighting the urge to hide, to run.
"We're going."
"…Yes, Father."
And just like that, without a backwards glance, Zuko – the smiling, waltzing Zuko, her Zuko – was gone.
The ride was beyond thrilling, both from the expertise of the engineers who had created the loops and turns as well as from the purely terrifying feeling of the machinery groaning around you, threatening to shake itself apart. Carnival rides – half the fun was in the near-death experience. It was useful for distracting him from the problem at hand. By the time they had gone through half of their ride he had almost forgotten what said problem was – almost.
But it was still there, a nagging in the back of his mind that he just couldn't manage to shake off. Toph liked him.
Toph, the ruggedly fierce and independent one (Loop-the-loop).
Toph, the one who couldn't seem to go a day without insulting him (Corkscrew spiral).
Toph, the only girl who would ever be able to whup him in soccer – or pretty much any sport, actually, though he would never admit it. It just wasn't manly to be beaten out by blind girl all the time (He didn't even know what that loop thing there was, but it left his head spinning and his insides twisted even worse than before).
Toph was different than just a little blind girl, though. Toph was…well, she was Toph. There was really no other way to say it; she was an absolute.
The ride was in its final loop now. No time to think. Whatever he had to do he had to do now, or he'd never be able to...to what? What did he need to do so urgently? Tell her. Tell her that they could only be friends, that he didn't return the feelings. That he didn't want to break his friend's heart. He was a man, wasn't he? He could do this. He had to tell her the truth.
The ride slowed to a stop, and Sokka cleared his throat to begin.
He was cut off, however, by the sound of Toph's laughter, unrestrained and joyous beyond words.
"That…was…awesome!" she cried. Obviously the ride had done a much better job at distracting her than it had him. In a rare movement that startled him completely, she leaned over the restraints and turned her head towards him, unseeing eyes gazing at his face in glee. Whether she was aware of it or not, they were directed uncannily at his own.
Pure.
God, they were so pure. Through the bangs, the stubborn rebel had prettiest eyes he had ever seen.
"Hey…you know something?" He flopped onto the ground.
"What?"
"Well…I dunno, it sounds kinda corny. It might make you feel better, but you also might punch me for the utter sappiness."
"Spit it out."
"Fine. You being blind and still being able to do everything everyone else does and more is just-"
Amazing. She was amazing.
He numbly got off the ride with the throng, his sudden slowness earning him a shove from Toph. The thrill seemed to have abated her nervousness and reverted her to a closer version to her normal self.
Sokka had always been an idiot.
How could he have not seen? Him, the most protective of any of them when Toph was looked down on. Him, finding himself enjoying things more when Toph reluctantly allowed him to guide her through an especially crowded area or a sidewalk dotted with puddles. Him, using the "girlfriend" guise to fool the carnie – honestly, was that really necessary? – and liking the feel of her hand in his.
"Toph…" he stopped walking, grabbing her wrist.
"What, peabrain?"
It was a stupid thing for a man to do to stop walking in the middle of a crowded area.
It was a very stupid thing for a man to do to convey his emotions to a girl he had just realized he had feelings for not five minutes ago.
And it was an incredibly stupid thing for a man to do to kiss said girl then and there. It was sudden and clichéd and would most likely get the man slapped.
Then again, Sokka had always been an idiot. And he wasn't quite yet a man.
"You know my name?" Zuko asked, still using that carefully guarded tone.
"Your sister used it."
"And you remembered all this time?"
She smiled wryly.
"I remembered a lot about you."
There. That's what she had been looking for. She had been examining the wrong place; he obviously had much practice with disguising emotions in his face. His hands, however, he had not perfected control of – he held them in loose fists, and the nails dug into his palms slightly as she spoke.
"I know it's weird. I don't even know why myself, but ever since I was little I just couldn't…" Forget.
Why?
"I don't know, it might have just faded away if I wasn't so…well, your dad came and then…then the next time I saw you, you were so different that I-"
"A lot of stuff happened that year." Now he looked slightly uncomfortable, like a bit of his composure was slipping away.
"I don't understand. What happened? Why did you…"
"It's complicated."
"I worried about you! I spent the entire night after we met worrying about my 'new friend.' I was little; I nearly cried when I figured out I'd probably never see you again! Then when I do you just brush me off like…like…I don't know! But don't just give me an 'It's complicated,' tell me why!"
Tell her why her emotions were getting so involved over a boy she danced with once upon a time in a little glass ballroom.
Any weakness that he had been beginning to show was replaced with anger.
"Why, so you can judge me? You haven't gone through anything I have; you barely know me! It's insane! I have questions too. Why did you remember me after all this time? Why did you worry? Why are you so infuriatingly, sickeningly there?" He stopped short, and the tense silence hung in the air.
"What do you mean?" she asked, searching his eyes once more.
He avoided her gaze, looking off to her right, not focusing on anything in particular. His next reply was strangely quiet, but just as intense.
"You're not the only one…who wants to understand."
She was stunned into silence as she slowly realized the meaning in his words. He was here for the first time in years…to try and learn why he couldn't forget her, either.
Somehow, she found herself laughing quietly. He met her eyes sharply, expecting the laughter to be directed at him. She shook her head, quieting his opposition before she explained.
"I'm sorry. I guess I need some sleep. It's just that…every year when I come to this carnival, I start thinking about you. I always wonder where you are and what you're thinking, and why you changed. I always expected you to have the answers, but…"
She gave him a helpless shrug, smiling ruefully.
"Neither of us does."
He was silent for a moment; serious eyes bored into her own.
"Then maybe we don't need them."
Yes.
She didn't understand their relationship; it shouldn't have existed, shouldn't have continued. She didn't understand how Zuko had gotten his scar or why he had changed. All she knew was that they were there, in their own little glass ballroom, and that that was right.
She extended her hand.
"Come on, it doesn't hafta be for long."
"…Don't tell anybody."
A giggle.
"Okay. Now…"
"…Let's dance, Zuko."
And the princess waltzed with her prince once more.