Hello all!
Thank you all for the overwhelming support! I only wish I could write faster.
This isn't my greatest chapter, but it moves the story forward. Hope it's still enjoyable :)
Enjoy chapter 6!
The frame was made of a dark rosewood with streaks of waving and rolling amber. It was smoothed with a thin finish. It was simple and elegant, perfect for containing a brightly smiling eighteen year old Lu Ten.
"I expected challenges," Iroh said, sitting before his son's image. "I know that all foster children have their share of struggles, but I must admit I was not prepared for struggles of this magnitude."
Lu Ten had always been easy to talk to, especially after his rebellious years. Their relationship had grown beyond the bond of family into a bond of friendship. They used to converse about most things, from school to to girls to military. Of course, their conversations were a bit more one-sided now.
"Zuko's a good kid. Too good. Any parent would envy his work ethic. Well… perhaps not the Haruyamas," he amended bitterly. "How can people who starve their children for bad grades be allowed to take in children who have already suffered?" He shook his head. "I will be having a strong word about this to Ayumi tomorrow. Zuko is a good-hearted human being, and he didn't deserve to be taken in by those barbaric people."
Iroh could see Lu Ten in his mind's eye, giving him a knowing look. He knew his father well enough to see that the foster child had already wormed his way into Iroh's heart.
"I know…" Iroh said with a sigh. "I've only known the boy two weeks. It's too early for me to be getting so attached." He let out a small laugh. "But I can't help it. Maybe I'm just a fool, a damaged man who's gone soft in his old age."
Lu Ten didn't like that. He wanted his father to stop thinking like that.
The back of Iroh's eyes burned, a hint of tears blurring his vision until he blinked them back. "I miss you, Lu Ten. I should have been there wh-when…" No. He couldn't say it. It was too painful, too real. "I can't fail another son," he whispered. "I could never forgive myself if I didn't protect Zuko the way I should have protected you. Not just protect but… nurture him and convince him that he's worth so much more than his stupid foster parents did."
"Iroh?"
It was Zuko, covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Iroh didn't even notice that he had come back into the house. He had a slight expression of confusion as his gaze swiveled between Iroh and the picture of Lu Ten.
"Ah, forgive me," Iroh said, picking up the picture frame. "I was just speaking to my son. I find that it… calms me."
Zuko's gaze focused on the picture."Okay." he murmured. "I'm gonna take a quick shower. I… I promise I'll be out before dinner."
"Take your time. Dinner can wait."
Zuko was still looking at Lu Ten's picture. "I'm sorry about your son."
Iroh turned toward Zuko, but he had disappeared upstairs before Iroh could respond. Iroh turned back to Lu Ten with a sad smile. "You see why I've become attached so quickly? Not every teenager would try and sympathize with an old man's grief."
When Zuko came back down - his hair slicked down with water - the table was set up for dinner, a roast duck sitting in the middle. With browned skin and steam rolling off of it, the smell of a plethora of spices mixed with the bird's juices filled the room and made Zuko's mouth water.
But he still couldn't shake the feeling that he didn't deserve this.
Iroh noticed Zuko standing at the bottom of the stairs. "Come, eat," he beckoned. "Your timing was good; the duck should be cooled off enough by now."
Sitting in his normal spot, Zuko moved mechanically as Iroh filled his plate and handed it back to him. He almost wanted to protest, but Iroh had insisted that was never going to use food punishment, and Zuko wasn't insolent enough to question Iroh's judgement. He just couldn't help but wonder what alternative form of discipline Iroh would decide to use.
They began to eat in silence. And while that wasn't unusual, tension hung in the air like a thick fog. It occurred to Iroh that perhaps he should share more about himself, to even the playing field so to speak. After all, if he expected Zuko to eventually open up more to him, he should be willing to do the same. And so he mentally prepared himself for a potentially painful conversation.
"I think he would have liked you," he said quietly.
Zuko paused in his eating to give the old man a questioning look.
"My son, Lu Ten," Iroh clarified. "He always said he wanted a little brother. I think he wanted someone to share things. I was quite busy with the military while he was growing up. Since his mother died when he was young, I have no doubt he would get quite lonely at times." He let out a small sigh tinged with regret. "That was probably part of the reason Lu Ten started to volunteer at BCY with me. He would have loved helping you with your bending, especially if that meant he could recruit you for all his crazy antics."
Zuko felt as though he should respond but had no idea what to say. He had no point of reference for dealing with a man who had lost both his wife and his son. "You… must miss him," he said lamely.
Iroh made eye contact with Zuko, and the young man quickly looked away. Iroh could see that Zuko was floundering, unsure how to handle someone else's tragedy. Iroh knew he had to tread lightly, but he had no intention of shying away from uncomfortable topics. Zuko needed to learn that it was okay to talk about some of the darker parts of life. "I do miss him. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about him." He took in a deep breath. "It's a sadness that will never go away. But it does become more bearable with time."
With a small nod, Zuko poked at his dinner. I wonder how he feels having a piss poor replacement like me for a son.
Iroh leaned forward and placed a hand over Zuko's. "I'm not looking for sympathy," Iroh assured. "But I want you to realize that everyone has shadows in their past. We all must strive to endure, cope, and overcome them. It can be a grueling and painful, but it's part of what makes us human. It's nothing to be ashamed of."
Zuko pulled his hand away, giving Iroh a perplexed stare. The statement seemed oddly pointed, leading Zuko to believe that Iroh was talking about him. But if there was some sort of subtext to what Iroh was saying, Zuko wasn't sure he was interpreting it correctly. "I'm overcoming my problems just fine," Zuko replied, unable to keep the slight petulance out of his voice. "I'm studying, I'm keeping my head down, and I'm doing the best I can to avoid causing problems."
"No, Zuko, I'm not talking about your studies or your behaviour. Both have been quite exemplary"
He wanted to deny Iroh's claim, but then again, why would he want to keep attention on his weaknesses? Still, Zuko was beginning to realize that Iroh had a very different approach to raising children than what he was used to. If was going to survive, he needed to understand what Iroh expected of him. "Then what are you talking about?"
With a sad shake of his head, Iroh replied, "I suppose what I'm trying to say is that you can talk me about anything. Your fears, your uncertainties… they're nothing to be ashamed of."
Zuko's body automatically tensed. "I don't need to talk about anything," he said quickly. "I'm doing fine, I swear!"
Iroh nodded, recognizing that he had hit a wall. "Alright. Just keep what I've said in mind, and know that I mean it with all my heart."
"... Okay," Zuko muttered, feeling more awkward - and yet less tense - than before. Thankfully, the awkwardness seemed to naturally fade as they finished their dinner.
The rest of their evening was just like any other, with Zuko shutting himself up in his bedroom to study. Once again, Iroh had to remind himself that Zuko wasn't going to change in a night. He needed to be patient with unwavering and constant support. Like water flowing over stone, he was sure he would see small changes in Zuko over time.
Thankfully, the next day at school wasn't terribly different. Yes, rumors of Zuko's fainting had spread and everyone's sneers were now tailored to fit that fact. However, their jeers were no less bearable than before. In fact, the day proceeded just as every other had. The one exception was that Aang - and surprisingly, Katara - were suddenly overly concerned over Zuko's diet and well-being.
"You should carry a water bottle with you," Katara suggested. "All that firebending probably dehydrates you faster than other benders."
"I'm fine," Zuko said, a bit uncomfortable with her sudden mothering. "I just didn't eat enough. It won't happen again."
"Alright… but you should take care of yourself," she insisted, her hands on her hips. "Aang was practically in a panic worrying over you."
"I was not!" Aang protested. "I was just the right amount of worried."
"Regardless, don't be that macho guy who has to fight no matter how sick he feels. Your pride isn't worth getting yourself hospitalized."
"Okay, I get it," Zuko assured. "Just… stop lecturing me…"
Katara humphed at that, but class began before she could get a proper retort in.
The rest of the week also continued normally. But of course, just when Zuko thought that his life was settling back down, Aang threw in another curve-airball.
"Do you wanna hang out after Warrior's Training?"
It was the end of their lunch period, and Zuko and Aang were headed toward their training as they spoke. "What do you mean 'hang out'?" Zuko asked.
"I mean… hang out! Eat some food, play some games… You know, hang out-y things."
Zuko couldn't restrain his smile at the airbender's almost incoherent explanation. "Hang out-y things?"
Aang sighed. "You know what I mean… Gyatso's making his famous cabbage stew. You should come over."
"I don't know, Aang. I'm not sure Iroh will be okay with it."
"Why don't you text him and find out?"
Zuko's fingers ghosted over the mobile phone in his pocket. "I'm not entirely sure Iroh even knows how to turn his phone on…"
"Well then, how about we ask him when he comes to pick you up? I'm sure he'll say yes. He seems friendly enough."
"Maybe…"
They were about to go their separate ways to their respective training arenas. "I'll meet you by the flagpole after training?" Aang offered.
"Uhh… sure." Zuko had the distinct feeling he wasn't going to actually have much say in this.
As promised, after Warrior's Training, the bubbly airbender was waiting under the flagpole. When he saw Zuko heading towards him, he thrust his arm in the air and waved excitedly at him. "How was your training?" he asked when Zuko caught up with him.
"Fine. Yours?"
"It was fine. Boring, as usual."
The airbender was smiling brightly at Zuko, which was how Zuko was able to see the faint purple blotch on Aang's jaw. He almost scowled at the sight. "How did that happen?" he asked.
Aang covered the bruise with his hand, looking sheepish. "Shao Mei just shoved me against the lockers. I hit one of the locks. It's no big deal."
Zuko clenched his fists, biting back a retort. These small incidents were relatively frequent, and every time Zuko lost his temper it ended in Aang's almost desperate plea to just stay out of it. It was frustrating to stand by and do nothing, but without any help from Aang, Zuko wasn't sure what else he could do.
Aang pointed past Zuko toward the parking lot. "I think that's Iroh's car. Let's go talk to him!"
"Aang…!" But Zuko was already left in a wake of air as Aang ran past him. With a resigned sigh, he trudged after the over-excited airbender who was already speaking with his guardian.
"Well of course Zuko can go to your place!" Iroh exclaimed. "It would be good for Zuko to get out of the house for something other than school."
"Are you sure?" Zuko asked. "I don't mind if you want me to stay in."
"Don't be ridiculous! I am a boring old man, and your friend seems like such fine young man. I'm sure time with him will be much more enjoyable than all of this time you've been spending with me. Go on!"
"Thanks, Mr. Ryusai!" Aang grabbed onto Zuko's arm and tugged on him toward the road. "Let's go! I can introduce you to Momo!"
"Momo?"
"My flying lemur!"
"Your what?"
And that's how Zuko ended up on the Minamis' couch with a white and brown creature wrapped around his head. Aang wasn't even trying to suppress his giggles. "He likes you."
"I can see that." Zuko was pulling on the lemur's tail and legs, trying to pry it from his head. "Now help me get it off!"
Still giggling, Aang grabbed a bag of leechi nuts and pulled out a handful. "C'mere, Momo."
The lemur immediately leapt off Zuko's head with a happy trill, landing on Aang's shoulders and greedily grabbing the nuts from his hand.
Now that he had been freed, Zuko took the opportunity to survey the airbender home. It was relatively bare, with limited personal effects. There were some old Air Nomad relics, but no photos from what Zuko could see. In an odd sort of way, it reminded him of Iroh's home. While the artifacts were from a different culture, both homes were similarly sparse yet quaint. Although Iroh had a picture of his son in his living room.
"Gyatso will be home soon," Aang said. "He'll want to meet you, but after that we can do whatever we want until dinner. So what do you wanna do?"
Zuko shrugged. "It's your house. What is there to do?"
"Well, we can watch a movie or play video games or play board games or hang out in Gyatso's garden or walk around the neighborhood."
Zuko tapped his knee reflexively as he processed Aang's list. "Video games?" He looked around the living room, seeing no sign of any modern technologies.
"My stuff's in the basement. What kinds of games do you like?"
"I don't know…"
Aang gave a small frown. "What do you mean you don't know? What kinds of games do you usually play?"
"I've… never really played any video games."
The airbender's jaw dropped. "You've never played any video games? None? Ever? Not even Han Qiu Kart or Super Smash Ni?"
"No. It's not that a big of a deal. Why would I play video games when I could be studying?"
"Uhh, why would you study when you could be playing video games? Don't tell me you study all the time. I get that it's important, but so is your sanity!"
"I'm not insane," Zuko replied petulantly. Though he had to admit, the concept of shirking off studying in favor of some frivolous pastime was appealing.
The front door to the house opened. "Aang?" a shaky and strained voice called out. "Do we have a visitor?"
Zuko turned around and saw the wisp of a man standing in the doorway. He was old - even older than Iroh - bald with a long white moustache. What first caught Zuko's attention was the fairly large blue arrow on the man's forehead that extended over his head. Zuko remembered learning about some of the older Air Nomad traditions, but had never actually seen an airbender with the traditional tattoos.
"Hey, Gyatso," Aang said. "This is Zuko."
Standing up from the couch, Zuko gave a respectful bow. "I'm pleased to meet you, Mr. Minami."
"Please, call me Gyatso," he said, bowing in turn. "Aang has told me a great deal about you. He says you've been becoming fast friends."
"Yeah… I guess we are."
Aang's smile impossibly widened.
"Now go have some fun," Gyatso said, waving them away. "I will retrieve you when dinner is ready."
Aang introduced Zuko to Han Qiu Kart, a game where you race cartoon characters against each other. To his surprise, Zuko found that he was quite good at it, even if he didn't quite understand all the gimmicks. "What's this red and yellow mushroom do?"
"It'll make you grow bigger, then you can squash the other guys."
Zuko pulled the trigger on his controller, activating the gimmick. "Alright then."
It was very addicting, and time passed quickly. Zuko could hardly believe it when over an hour had passed.
Aang gave Zuko a playful nudge. "See? Isn't this a lot better than studying?"
"Yeah, I guess so." Though Zuko couldn't help but think of all the make-up work he was going to have to do over the weekend.
They played for an additional half hour before Zuko realized that Aang had gotten awfully quiet. He managed to glance at the airbender without crashing his own character. While Aang was still actively engaged in their game, he also seemed a bit distracted. "Hey, you okay?" Zuko asked.
Aang didn't respond at first. When he spoke, his voice was quieter than usual. "Could I ask you a question?"
Zuko was having trouble completely focusing on the game, his character swerving on and off the course. Aang didn't seem to realize that question in of itself was loaded, especially accompanied with that hesitant tone. He had no idea what Aang wanted to ask him about, and Zuko's mind began to race with the potential fallout if he answered Aang's question wrong.
"You don't have to answer it," Aang added. "It's kind of a personal question, but… I can't help but wonder."
The game irrelevant at this point, Zuko pressed the 'Pause' button on his controller and tossed it aside as he turned to face Aang more directly. "You can't help but wonder what?"
Aang also placed his controller aside with a deep sigh. "How did you get the scar on your face?"
That was not the question Zuko had expected. Which was ridiculous. His scar covered a third of his face, and even his long bangs weren't enough to completely obscure it. Undoubtedly this was a question everyone had when they saw him, though no one had ever voiced it until now.
And why shouldn't Aang voice it? That first day they met, they agreed to get to know each other and try to become friends. After a couple of weeks, he really shouldn't be surprised that Aang might want to know more. That's what friends do, right? Share some of the more painful parts of their life with one another? And his scar was by far the most obvious blemish of his past.
"My father… My real father… He demanded perfection and obedience. Failure to meet his expectations was unacceptable." Zuko crossed his arms across his chest, staring up at the ceiling in memory. "A couple years ago, I got into an argument with him. I never was the model son, but I had never been stupid enough to pick a fight with him before. I guess I had just gotten tired of my father controlling every corner of my life." He shook his head with a long sigh. "Of course, he saw this as a sign of deep disrespect. And he punished me for it."
A strangled choke came from Aang's throat. "I… I thought maybe it had been some sort of accident..."
Zuko let out a hollow laugh. "Far from it. My father didn't even bother to take me to the hospital afterwards. I probably would have died of infection if it hadn't been for our nosy neighbors."
"Wh… why… how?" Aang stuttered in disbelief. "That's... horrible!"
Zuko shrugged. After so many cries of sympathy from the hospital and social workers, he was basically numb to any more. "He was punished for it. Sentenced to forty years in prison, no chance of parole until my sister and I are adults."
Aang frowned slightly. "You have a sister?"
For a moment, Zuko wondered why Aang would ask such an absurd question. Then he realized he hadn't actually told Aang anything about his past, including the fact that he had a sister. "Yeah… her name's Azula. She's a couple years younger than me."
"Does she not live with you and Mr. Ryusai?"
"No, she's still with the Haruyamas."
"Oh…" Aang stared at a loose thread on his shirt, pulling and twisting it mindlessly. "You guys hate each other?"
Somehow, Zuko choked on his own spit at the question. "What? What would make you ask that?"
Aang just stared innocently at him. "Does that mean you guys don't?"
"I… We don't really hold much love for each other… B-But why would you even ask?"
"Don't all siblings hate each other?" Aang asked, sounding genuinely curious. "Everyone's always said that siblings are natural enemies. I mean, Katara and Sokka don't really hate each other, but I think they're kind of weird."
Despite the sudden tension, Zuko could tell that Aang's curiosity was benign enough. "I think it would be accurate to describe me and Azula as 'enemies'. Though I doubt we're a good model for normal siblings."
Aang hummed thoughtfully. "Do you miss her now that you don't live together anymore?"
Without his bidding, old memories gripped Zuko's heart. Their chilling tendrils travelling up and down his spine, even as he tried desperately to push them down. "No," he growled, clenching his fists compulsively. "In fact, I'd be happy never to see her ever again."
It was either Zuko's tone or his expression, but Aang immediately realized that he had crossed a line. "I'm glad I don't have any siblings," he said quickly, his voice artificially cheerful. "Gyatso will probably be done with the stew soon. Wanna try and fit another course or two of Han Qiu Kart before then?"
Zuko's shoulders fell as the dark tendrils in his body dissipated. "Sure."
As they resumed their game, the lighthearted atmosphere from before slowly returned. Zuko's continuing winning streak and Aang's increasing indignant frustration only improved the mood.
They were halfway through their second race when Aang hit the pause button again. "Thanks for answering my question," he said quietly. "And sorry if I made you made you mad."
"Mad?" Zuko echoed. "I wasn't mad. I was just..." He paused, pursing his lips. He didn't really know how to describe what he had felt. He just knew that he hated it. "I don't like my sister, and I don't like talking about her."
Aang nodded. "Okay. In that case, I'll never bring her up again."
Zuko looked over at the airbender. Aang had always been an enigma, starting from when he first approached Zuko on the first day. Not even his scar and foul demeanor could deter the friendly airbender. Even when most of the kids at the school were attacking him for being gay, Aang was able to shrug it off and still thrive off of some endless supply of cheerfulness. Being almost recklessly selfless and considerate seemed to come as easy to him as breathing. Even now, without even knowing why Zuko disliked talking about Azula, Aang didn't hesitate even a second before reassuring Zuko that he would avoid talking about her.
Zuko couldn't help but smile, unable to believe how lucky he was to have such a friend. "Thanks, Aang."
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