Zuko made record time back to the estate after he left Mai bawling in the school parking lot. Speeding a good twenty miles per hour above the set limits, he began to wonder what exactly he was racing home for anyway. The reality set in that his father was scheduled to return from his business trip that morning, meaning it was only a matter of time before Ozai summoned his son to account for his actions. Though Zuko had assured Azula on numerous occasions that he wasn't afraid of Ozai's wrath, deep down he knew his father would have more than a few cross words for him after this incident.
Pulling his car into his parking space near the fountain, Zuko groaned when he saw his father's car parked on the opposite side. He tried to push the unpleasant thoughts out of his head as he jogged up the steps; his direction took him determinedly through the foyer straight to the kitchen. Yugoda always had food prepared for him after he returned home from classes and he hadn't spoken with her for quite some time.
He smelt the aromas from the kitchen before he entered and when he did, he found Yugoda with Meng and Jin, all three women cooking and quietly gossiping. As soon as Zuko appeared in the doorway, the chatter ceased.
"Zuko," Yugoda greeted him happily with a smile.
"Hey, Yugoda." Zuko looked around the kitchen at the two other maids, who silently turned their backs to Zuko. "Pardon me, but may we have a moment?" he asked, addressing the two cooks, who had suddenly become timid.
The women looked up, startled, as Yugoda nodded for them to leave. Jin and Meng glued their gaze to the tiled floor as they silently and quickly brushed past Zuko.
Yugoda walked to the sink to wash her hands, as Zuko picked an apple from the large fruit basket.
"What's the matter? You look a little down," Yugoda noted as Zuko pulled out a stool.
Tiredly, he rubbed his hands over his face, feeling his rough facial hair begin to make an appearance. "Is Father back?" he asked, ignoring Yugoda's inquiry.
"Yes, of course—" Yugoda began before her gaze focused on the battered state of Zuko's knuckles. Quickly drying her hands, she moved to stand across from him, releasing a gasp as she saw the true extent of his injuries. Gently she pulled his right hand away from his face. "What happened to you Zuko?"
Zuko promptly yanked his bruised hand out of Yugoda's, embarrassed and not wanting to account for his actions just yet. "You should see the other guy," he quipped, attempting make light of the situation.
Yugoda saw right through his forced and unconvincing smile as she picked up her wooden rolling pin. "You've been fighting again, haven't you?"
"You make it sound like it's a common occurrence."
"Common enough, and stop trying to avoid telling me what happened."
Zuko averted his gaze as he finally relented. He quickly recounted the entire incident to Yugoda who listened quietly and thoughtfully, proceeding in her tasks.
"I told you them boys were trouble, Zuko."
"They were fine until yesterday. I couldn't be a part of their brutality."
"And I'm proud that you weren't. I figured one day something like this would happen, where you'd realize that you're too good for their company."
Zuko looked away once again, shame overtaking him as he remembered past events that weren't so noble. "No, I'm not, Yugoda."
"Yes, you are. That took courage Zuko – standing up for someone like that even when you know you'll get flack for it. Now, I can't speak for Katara, but she's a good girl. I'm sure she's fine, and grateful for what you've done. I don't like fighting…but sometimes you must. And I'm proud of you, Zuko, very proud."
Zuko's cheeks flushed at Yugoda's heartfelt praise. "Yeah, but Father sure won't feel the same way."
Yugoda shrugged. "Then he's wrong."
Zuko smiled at her honesty. "I wonder when he'll yell at me for all of this. Lecturing me on fighting, and reminding me of how reckless I am. Blah, blah, blah."
"He'll probably call you into his office soon. Boy, he's gonna be mad!" Yugoda nearly laughed as she shook her head. "You better start preparing your excuses now."
Zuko resisted a glare, as he wondered why Yugoda couldn't sugarcoat things…at least sometimes. "I bought Katara a new copy of the book that was destroyed by one of my 'friends' yesterday. I figured that she at least deserved that."
Yugoda blinked a couple of times rapidly. "Did you now?"
"Yeah, Jee ran out last night to pick it up for me. I told him I didn't care if he had to go a hundred miles to find the thing; I wanted it immediately so that I could give it to Katara today. He said he had to go to three separate stores to find it."
Yugoda was impressed that Zuko would make such a grand gesture towards Katara. "Three stores, you said?"
Zuko nodded as he continued to eat his apple. "Yeah, he's a good guy. I hope Katara found it," he said, smiling to himself.
Yugoda looked up from her rolling pin to find Zuko with a dopey grin on his face. "Found it? What does that mean?"
"What! Nothing, I m-m-mean—"
"Zuko, quit stuttering. Why are you acting so strange today? Did Jian knock you upside your head too?"
You're the second person to tell me that I've been acting strange today…
"I'm just fine Yugoda. Just a little—"
Their conversation was cut short by the screech from a pair of shoes in front of the kitchen doorway. Katara appeared soon after, resting on the doorframe, slightly out of breath. "Mrs. Yugoda, have you seen Zu—" she rushed out before she took a second look about the kitchen
She blinked at the sight of Zuko, not expecting to find him there. She wasn't prepared to face him just yet.
Zuko stood once Katara came into full view, self-consciously running a hand through his hair. The two forgot Yugoda's presence as various thoughts rushed through their minds.
"Yes, dear?" Yugoda asked impatiently, disrupting the silence.
Katara shook her head, as she addressed Zuko, finally stating the reason of her sudden appearance. "Mr. Ozai wishes to see you…in his office, sir."
Zuko's shoulders sagged, as he gulped rather audibly. The time for reckoning had finally arrived.
"You better get going then, you know how much he hates waiting," Yugoda reminded Zuko as he watched Katara quickly rush out of the kitchen.
Zuko didn't linger to hear Yugoda finish her thought, for he took off in the direction Katara had departed.
Yugoda looked up, realizing that Zuko had abruptly left, not waiting for her to finish. She had known the young man since birth, and usually he was an open book to her. But she could tell there was something else stirring in him, and for the life of her she couldn't put a finger on it. Yugoda eventually chalked up the unusual anxiety to nerves and stress from school and home.
Her thoughts were disrupted as Jin and Meng walked back into the kitchen laughing loudly.
"That boy tore out of here faster than a speeding bullet! He nearly knocked us over, Yugoda!" Meng remarked, as she walked to the back counter.
Zuko nearly ran to catch up with Katara as she walked away from the kitchen into an adjacent hallway, next to several guest rooms. "Katara!" he called out in a harsh whisper, as the maid pretended not to hear his footsteps behind her.
She finally stopped, realizing that Zuko would follow her all the way outside, until she finally acknowledged him. Still, she didn't face him as he finally came to stand next to her. Katara looked down the hall, watching a servant go up the stairs with a basket full of laundry. On the opposite end of the hall sounds of sweeping could be heard, all observations indicating that they were far from being alone.
Katara finally turned to Zuko, who waited patiently for her to address him. "Sir, your father's waiting for you and he didn't sound very happy," Katara reminded him.
"He can wait. I wanted to talk to you."
"About what exactly?" Katara whispered as a servant nodded at the two of them as she made her way to the kitchen.
"You know damn well about what," he whispered as well.
Katara gulped as she looked at the various people, who were in earshot and could easily eavesdrop on their entire conversation. Zuko also looked around at the several employees, who pretended to be carrying on with their tasks, but were obviously listening in. Without thinking, he quickly took Katara by the arm pulling her into an empty room next door. He closed the door softly, as a wide-eyed Katara watched him, his strong hand still encircling her arm.
"Sir, this isn't a good idea. I'll be more than willing to talk to you later, but…" Katara wasn't sure how to voice her opposition to the situation he had created by speaking to her in private, in an empty room, with several witnesses nearby.
"I don't care," he stated, releasing her arm, and waving his hands. "People always talk in this house. I just wanted to see how you were doing."
Katara quickly looked away, hiding her wrist under her apron. "I'm okay. It was no big deal."
Zuko immediately noticed her gesture, and knew she was hiding her injuries. "Is that the hand?" he asked pointing.
Katara mutely nodded.
"May I…see?"
Slowly Katara moved her reddish-purple wrist, as Zuko put his own hand out to assess her wounds. A small gasp resulted as he saw the large angry handprint of Jian's grip covering her small and dainty wrist. "That bastard," he snarled in response.
"It'll heal. The burn is minor. I know a beginner waterbending technique that'll heal it slowly."
"He's still a bastard."
Despite herself, Katara released a small giggle, coaxing a smile from Zuko. "I must thank you though. I'd have this printed across my face as well if it wasn't for you."
"You're welcome, I'd do it again in a heartbeat. I wouldn't let him hurt you — I mean, I wouldn't let him hurt any woman."
"And for the book, that was too kind, you really shouldn't have."
He took a step forward, closer. "Of course, you deserve a replacement."
Katara looked around the bedroom as she cleared her throat, wondering if the conversation would continue. "Your father is waiting." Katara looked down at her hand, which Zuko was still holding. "Sir…you can let go of my hand now."
Zuko let go of her hand like a hot rock, stuffing his own in his pocket.
"Call me Zuko. I think we know each other well enough by now."
She looked up, shaking her head, and met his gaze. "No, I couldn't, it'd be too improper."
"I insist…people I care about have such a privilege."
Katara didn't tear her eyes from Zuko's, though she felt extremely light headed, and her stomach began to knot. It must have been a simple slip of the tongue…it had to be. However, she quickly began to rethink that last statement, for the gaze Zuko had on her was like no other. It was almost as if his lovely gold eyes were peering straight into her soul; he saw her.
"Zuko!" Azula could be heard calling for him in the hallway.
Zuko and Katara tore their gaze from each other, refocusing on the door, and Azula's nearing voice.
"Zuko, you have to go now," Katara said ever so softly.
Zuko smiled as he heard his name roll off her tongue for the first time. He looked back at Katara, unwilling to part with her just yet. There was so much more he wanted to say to her, but he was afraid that more confessions would slip. Maybe it was a blessing that Azula had come along. Zuko stepped out of the room without saying another word to Katara, opening the bedroom door just wide enough so he could slip out, and avoid exposing her.
"Zuko, what were you doing in there? Didn't you hear me calling earlier?" Azula asked, a little out of breath.
"Sorry. I was looking for something," he rushed out quickly.
"You can do that later…if you survive. Father is going crazy, I'm positive that he found out about yesterday."
"Yeah, me too…," Zuko's voice trailed off as he glanced at the closed door leading to the guest bedroom. "On a scale from one to ten...how angry would you say he is?"
Azula didn't hesitate with her bluntness. "Level thirteen, for sure."
"Fuck…"
"And wasting more time here isn't helping!" Azula nearly yelled.
Zuko finally took heed to her warning as he left the hallway, jogging all the way to his father's office. Normally, he would have taken his time in getting there, but he had already kept him waiting for much longer than he should have. Once outside the office doors, Zuko took a moment to collect all the confused and jumbled thoughts in his mind. He finally knocked, waiting for his father's permission to enter.
"Zuko? That better be you!" Ozai yelled angrily from the other side.
Without responding, the Zuko pushed open the double doors and then closed them softly behind him. His father stood behind his desk, hands on his hips as he stared out of a nearby window. Zuko walked to the opposite side of his father's desk, deciding that it would be best if he remained standing.
"Zuko…," Ozai began slowly and deliberately. Zuko could tell that his father was doing his best to control his tone and decibel level. "You'd better have a damn good explanation for this mess," he hissed, finally facing his son, the vein in his neck already throbbing.
Zuko swallowed in a vain attempt to relieve the sudden dryness in his throat. "I take it you've heard about what happened—"
"Don't you dare use your sarcasm with me!"
Zuko sighed, "I'm not. I just…wanted to see how much you already knew."
"Oh, you want to know what I know, Zuko?"
Zuko stood his ground, resisting the urge to nod to his father.
Ozai needed no further encouragement to begin his rant. "I come back to what should have been a peaceful home from a tiring weekend in Yu Dao, and the first thing I'm bombarded with is a message to call Osamu. And I ask myself: 'Why would Osamu, someone who fixes watches for a living, need to talk to me?' So, I call Osamu, on my own time mind you, and you know what he tells me?"
"No, what?" Zuko played along, doing his best to remain as respectful as possible.
"That my son," Ozai yelled, slamming a fist down on his desk, resulting in several things toppling over, "started a street fight, in broad daylight. Also, that it took two grown men to restrain him and that he was swearing like some inbred fool! And you know what that fight was over, son?"
"No…?" Zuko asked, gritting his teeth.
Ozai finally let the cap off what little control he had maintained, not caring to keep his voice hush any longer. "It was over the new maid! Now please tell me that Osamu has finally lost his damn mind and it's not true!"
"Then I'd be a liar," Zuko stated with a calmness he certainly didn't feel.
Ozai took a moment to still his racing mind as his eyes narrowed to slits. "Should I even bat an eye at your antics anymore, Zuko? I always thought I had raised you better, but then you run off and do stupid things like this. I can't even go on a business trip, without some sort of calamity occurring at home!"
"You did raise me well father, and that's why I had to do the honorable thing when I saw Katara being manhandled by Jian."
Ozai paused, confusion clouding his features. "Who the hell is Katara?"
"The maid, the woman Jian was attacking."
"Zuko, there were other ways you could've dealt with the situation, something that didn't include tackling Jian like a fiend!"
Despite the intensity of the moment, Zuko had to swallow a chuckle.
"Jian had to be taken to the hospital! I hope you know that I'm going to have to pay for the medical bills…a damn broken rib, Zuko? You know, I can only cover your ass so much and my patience with your recklessness is growing thin, boy! How on earth am I supposed to conduct business with Jian's father after this? Are you just hell bent on dragging our name?"
"Father, if you expect me to watch an innocent woman be battered in public…well I'd rather not be part of this family if that's what our family does! I know Katara is a colored—"
"Oh, Zuko, please!" Ozai said, turning.
"But she's still human, and I won't apologize for defending a woman...no matter what her color is. I bet you wouldn't be upset if she was Fire Nation," Zuko scoffed.
As he watched his father's mouth form a straight line, he immediately wished that he had chosen a different set of words. He knew his father was resisting the urge to jump over the desk, and strangle him.
"You will hold your tongue, boy!" Ozai yelled angrily, pointing his finger at his disrespectful son.
"This issue is much greater than mere race or skin color. It's about my – your – reputation. But naturally, the fact that she's a poor Water Tribe woman just makes it even worse! Zuko, the world we live in isn't perfect…and there are certain things we cannot change. I can't have you picking fights around town over people like her." Ozai's voice became slightly calmer.
Zuko's eyes narrowed. "And who would 'people like her' be, father? I can't believe that you're upset with me, because I did the right thing!"
"Zuko, I'm upset that you'd be so reckless as to batter and alienate the people we have no choice but to socialize with! Do you not realize the complications you have created for me? All over some irrelevant maid…"
"All you care about is your business, you don't care about people…well I do."
"Well, this is a new development. When did you become so chivalrous?" Ozai scoffed.
Zuko remained silent.
"Now you listen up Zuko. You're going to march down to that expensive school that I pay for, and make amends to friends."
Zuko scoffed. "They are not my friends. I'm not going to apologize for doing what's right! They need to be the ones apologizing to Katara!"
"Zuko, throw away your useless utopian mindset! This is the way things have been done for years! The foreigners know their place when they come to our land; it's high time that you learnt yours. No Fire Nation man is going to apologize to some colored, especially if it was her fault!"
"Her fault?"
"Enough Zuko! Enough!" Ozai said, pointing at Zuko angrily. "Now, I don't know where you're getting these crazy ideas from, but they're not welcome in this house. You created this mess, now you will fix it! I'm getting too old for this. I'm sick and tired of cleaning up after you! So, you will humble yourself and apologize. I don't give a damn if you're lying through your teeth; it's for the good of our family and the family business."
Zuko shook his head violently as he folded his arms across his chest. "I will do no such thing. I'm not sure what Osamu told you about what happened, but what those three 'friends' of mine need is fire blast up their backside, not me kissing it. I won't do it…I refuse."
Ozai observed his son, utterly speechless at his stoic defiance and stubbornness. "I don't know why I even bother anymore! The only thing you've succeeded in doing is being a disgrace!"
Zuko decided that he had had enough. His father wasn't interested in the truth, only in belittling him.
"There you go, turning your back to your problems, yet again."
"No, I'm just not doing this with you right now."
Zuko nearly ripped the double doors off their sturdy hinges as he blew out of the room. He could still hear his father calling after him as he stormed out a set of doors, and onto the back patio. Not wasting a single moment, he lit a much-wanted cigarette as he stepped down from the concrete patio. Ozai's voice began to dissipate as Zuko's loafers crunched against the expensive green grass. Some male servants were completing yard work on the grounds, and paused to nod at their fuming master. Zuko ignored them, afraid that if he were to speak at all, profanities would come spilling out.
He always knew that he wasn't the perfect son his demanding father had set out to have, yet hearing out loud how his father really felt about him hurt more than he could articulate. Couldn't Ozai tell that for the past two years he had been trying to be the son that he could be proud of again? He thought perhaps his father would take pride in the fact that he fought for the innocent no matter the consequences. However, Zuko was reminded yet again that social status and the family business were the two things that Ozai cared about the most.
Zuko tried to tell himself that he shouldn't have been upset, for scenarios like this had unfolded before. He did something to upset Ozai, in response he lashed out, then Zuko would retreat to his secret place – the pond.
One of the few places that brought him comfort – and that's where he was headed now. About a ten-minute trek, following the faint path, led Zuko to a large pond, which he associated with some of his most fond memories of adventure and innocence. As children, he, Azula, and Aang would ride their mongoose lizards to this little kingdom, spending the afternoon swimming and playing around the grounds. Zuko hadn't visited his private and secluded "retreat" for the longest of times, and now seemed an appropriate occasion, if there ever was one, to retreat to his secret place of solitude for comfort.
Following the small trail through the thick canopy of trees, he arrived to find his sanctuary in the same state he had left it when he last visited months ago. The small dock and tire swing seemed to be frozen in time, looking as new as when his father surprised him with putting it up thirteen years ago. The familiar red of fire lilies and yellow swamp candles covered the banks, making the area a worthy landscape for a vivid painting. The scenery continued to captivate Zuko to the same degree on his hundredth visit, as it did his first. In fact, he was so mesmerized that he didn't notice his cigarette was at its end, and burnt his middle finger. Dropping it immediately as he felt it sear into his flesh, he stomped the end out, but pocketed the butt; he wouldn't dare litter this place.
Almost in a trance, Zuko walked out onto the dock, watching the currents from the wind shift the water lilies side to side. A headache began to set in as he took his shoes and socks off, dangling his legs over the dock, and into the water.
The words of his angry and disappointed father ran through his head in a reel. Are you just hell bent on dragging our name? The foreigners know their place when they come to our land, it's high time that you learnt yours!
He tried to push the angry comments out of his head, but the familiar words taunted him. He picked up a nearby stone, throwing it into the water with all the aggression he felt flowing through his veins. Zuko watched a small water lily get crushed on the impact and felt a sense of joy at its destruction. Before he knew it, he was picking up all the stones he could find, crushing the water foliage until he collapsed, exhausted.
Lying on his back, watching the clouds roll in the blue sky, Zuko wondered what his mother would say if she ever heard Ozai talk to him the way he did. Zuko always concluded that if his mother had lived longer, Ozai would be a completely different man…as would he.
But in reality, his mother was dead and these were the circumstances he was given. Zuko's mind slowly drifted to his mother's heirloom, a crown of the crown prince of the ancient Fire Nation given to her by her grandfather, which lay in a bedside drawer. It was the object he felt the most connection to his mother with. It was one of her most prized possessions and there it was collecting dust in a forgotten drawer. It took all the mental energy he had to stop thinking of his deceased mother. He didn't want to feel even more guilt than he already did.
"Katara, are you going home now?" Azula approached the maid in the foyer after a tense and lonely dinner with Ozai.
"Yes, it's getting late," Katara replied, shifting her purse to her other shoulder. She looked around to see if anyone was nearby before uttering her next words. "Is Zuko back yet?" she whispered as Azula took her arm, pulling her to the side.
"No, he's been gone for hours. He probably won't be back until everyone is sleeping…or so he thinks. Father usually waits up for him."
Katara blinked, she hadn't realized that Zuko had been gone so long. She had seen him walking away from the house after she heard the yelling, but she figured he was walking to the stables for a ride, or the training grounds to take his anger out. "You said Mr. Ozai usually waits for Zuko…this has happened before?
Azula nearly laughed. "Yeah, it used to be like clockwork! But, it's been a while since he and father have gotten into a scuffle. They've been getting on quite well lately, until…you know."
Katara looked away for a moment, feeling guilty and embarrassed; this was all her fault. "His car's still here. Where could he have gone?"
"I have my ideas…" Azula began, before her attention was caught by a book poking out of the maid's purse. "What's this, then?" she asked plucking it out of Katara's bag.
"Oh, nothing!" The maid responded a little too quickly, hoping that Azula wouldn't open it to the front page.
"Zuko was talking about this book, last night." Azula stated plainly, as she handed it back to Katara. She had overheard the conversation Zuko had with the chauffer the day before.
"Really?" Katara unevenly sputtered. "I'll see you tomorrow. I hope Zuko comes back soon and safely."
"Bye Katara," Azula said as she watched the maid walk through the front doors, catching up with Jin, who was waiting to take her home.
As Azula made her way back to the living room, she saw her father's chauffer in the corner of her eye, and decided to do something she had meant to last night.
"Jee," she called, stopping the man in his tracks.
"Evening Miss," he said tipping his small cap.
"Good evening to you as well." Azula closed the space between them, bringing her voice to a quiet hush, which unnerved the tall chauffer. "Now I was down the hall last night, and I couldn't help but over hear your conversation with Zuko."
"Yes ma'am."
"Ah, so…you know that book Zuko sent you to pick up yesterday?"
Jee loosened his collar nervously. "Of course! I had to go to three stores to get it, and beg the third not to close and let me in for just a minute."
Azula gave him the most charming smile she could muster. "What was it called then? It couldn't have been for Zuko!" she exclaimed laughing. She hoped the chauffer would understand her train of thought.
"I'm sorry miss, but he was really secretive, told me not to tell anyone. It was a gift, for someone special, I think. I regret that I can't tell you ma'am, truly I do."
Azula playfully nudged his side with her elbow. "Oh, c'mon Jee, it's just a book."
Jee's gaze shifted nervously. "I don't want to get in any trouble, ma'am. Sir told me not –"
"You won't get in any trouble; my lips are sealed. It'll be our secret," she whispered, giving him another smile.
"Oh, okay…alright." Jee sighed as he fished into his pockets for the slip of paper Zuko had given him yesterday. He handed it to Azula, without unfolding it.
"Thank you," Azula immediately turned away with the ball of paper, running up the stairs with it clasped in her hands. When she reached the deserted second floor, Azula gingerly unfolded the paper. Several times her eyes ran across the two words scribbled on the paper, just to confirm her suspicions. Indeed, her fears proved to be correct; there was no doubt that it was Zuko's messy handwriting. Azula was too cynical to believe that the relationship between the paper she held and Katara's obviously new book was just a mere coincidence.
Her mind ran through Zuko's recent suspicious behavior, beginning to connect the dots. Previously, she had convinced herself that she was just reading into things too much...but now she wasn't so sure. As she recalled the disturbing events of recent days, her stomach began to knot in nausea.
She knew how Zuko could be charming and manipulative; she had seen him woo a countless number of pretty girls. A sense of dread washed over her as she considered Zuko's womanizing nature and Katara's mild naiveté. She loved her brother dearly and valued her friend…but this thing they were getting involved in with each other wouldn't be good for anyone. In that moment, Azula declared to herself that it was her duty to protect both from their own and others' stupidity.
