(Both 6)

Zuko had just returned from one of his monthly peace-keeping trips to Republic City and asked to have lunch with just his daughter upon his return. No Mai, nor Masaru. Just them.

Zuko never realized how awkward it would be to dine with his seven-year-old. She grew and learned so much in a day that after a week away she became barely recognizable. She wore her hair differently today. Instead of the wearing two buns wrapped in red fabric and tied with golden cord, like how her mother wore her hair as a child, Izumi wore hers down today, with a third of it gathered in a top knot mirroring his hairstyle for some reason.

"Is there any particular reason for the change?" He asked, studying how her long her hair was and how it framed her face.

"Nope, just wanted to try something new. Mother even gave me one of her flame ornaments!" Izumi replied, excitedly reaching her small hands up to feel the smooth metal of the flame.

"It looks nice," Zuko replied before another pregnant pause in conversation.

"Were there any major issues in the City, or only general maintenance to do?" Izumi asked finally.

It was a surprising question to come out of the mouth of his seven-year-old girl. "What would you classify a major issue?"

"I don't know? Anything that would require your intervention to calm public panic. Is the Agni Kai Triad still terrorizing the Southern Water Tribe district?"

"How do you know about that?" Zuko asked, confused. Were her tutors already keeping her abreast of current events?

"Saru and I started reading the newspapers from Republic City, Omashu, Ba Sing Se, and the Northern Water Tribe's Capital City," Izumi replied. "Only the Tuesday issues, though." she added. "We don't have time to keep up with everything happening every day. THAT would be insane on top of our history studies and battle strategy days. I don't know how you manage keeping up with just our country!"

"I don't-I have secretaries that help me. They summarize the major events for me and an assembly of advisors, then they help me prioritize which to address first and then we proceed."

"Hm…" Izumi set her chopsticks down, deep in thought. "I believe I've read about a similar process… or technique? I don't know what it is classified as, but it is a division of labor, right?"

"Exactly!" Zuko replied with a smile. "You've learned so much in the past few years with Saru here."

"It only seems natural. Before he came, I didn't know how to read, and now… we read together all the time. If I come across a word I don't know, he explains it to me. If neither of us know, we find an adult. If that adult doesn't know, then we check the dictionary. That's a last resort only because it takes SOOOO much time to match the character by the number of strokes or corners or base and…"

"I am familiar with how annoying a dictionary is, my little turtle duck," Zuko interrupted.

Izumi smiled. "Why did you call me here today? You're usually so ecstatic to see everybody when you return home after so long away."

"And I am, but I wanted to see you in particular this time."

"Why?"

"Because I have a gift just for you, Izumi."

"Just for me?" Izumi asked, surprised. "Not Saru too? I thought we were equals and had to share all of our toys."

"This gift is not a toy, but a friend and a responsibility." Zuko explained. Young seven-year-old Izumi nodded. He pulled out from behind his back a scaly egg and placed it in her hands. "Do not give it to anybody for any reason, for it is more valuable than everything you own put together."

"What is it?" Izumi asked, cradling the egg in her tiny hands. She had never seen a toy like this before. It felt...warm? Her toys never felt like they were living before.

"A dragon!"

Izumi gasped and clutched the egg even tighter. "I thought they were nearing extinction! Father, I'm still only a child! Mother doesn't even let me into her parlor unaccompanied out of fear I'll break one of great grandmother Illah's ghastly vases! How can I be trusted with a member of a species that is nearly extinct?!"

"A dragon is not a delicate, breakable object like a vase. It is a life, Izumi. This dragon will become your best friend in time. You will care for each other like the Avatar and his Sky Bison... you will love each other…"

"But Father, What about Saru? Isn't he my already my best friend? It wouldn't be right to replace him with this," Izumi questioned, gesturing to the egg.

"In that case, you will have a second best friend in the dragon!"

"But I can't have two best friends! By definition the word best when applied to something implies there is none greater than it!"

Zuko sighed. Typical Izumi to always get technical. She must get that from her mother. "Just keep him warm for me until he is ready to be hatched."

"And how will I know when that is?"

"You'll know," Zuko replied cryptically, digging into his pepper-laden fried rice.


"Based on the color and egg size and shape, your dragon is a short-snout fanged blue spitfire dragon," Masaru said, reading from a book in the royal Library while Izumi sat by him. Careful not to let it out of her sight, the dragon egg was perched atop a wire net over a candle. "Should be kept incubated at approximately 12,000 degrees Kelvin."

"Isn't that twice as hot as the temperature of the sun?" Izumi asked.

"Slightly more than that. Our sun is exactly 5778 degrees," Masaru replied.

"So I should turn up the temperature of the flame of the candle?"

"Are you sure you can do that?"

"Yes. I found out only yesterday..."

"No, I have complete confidence in your bending. I mean to say, I have concerns about that wire netting. It might melt at a higher temperature," Masaru informed Izumi. Izumi hadn't thought of that. "The egg may fall and break."

"You're right," she said, picking the egg off the wire frame. She ignited a little blue fire in her little hands, engulfing the egg. They both stared at it. "Does the book say anything about determining the age of an egg? Like... how long it has been an egg and how long I will have to incubate it at this temperature?"

Masaru flipped through the book a bit more. "Spitfire dragons can spend as little as a day and as long as five—no four—no, six hundred and eighty four years in their eggs before hatching."

"What?!" Izumi sighed. "Give me the book and you incubate the egg!"

"But my fire is not as hot as yours AND your father said you weren't supposed to give it away!"

"I'm not giving it to you to keep. I am giving it to you to borrow for, like, ten minutes while I read!" Izumi clarified.

Masaru reluctantly accepted the egg and engulfed it in his red flames, trying to make it as hot as he could, studying it intently, feeling for any signs of life from within. Maybe it was petrified?

After a few minutes, he felt a slight shift in the weight distribution of the egg. Maybe it was just his imagination. Then there was a bigger shift, movement! Like the dragon inside was ramming into the walls of his confines.

"Izumi!" Masaru yelled in terror, nearly dropping it in surprise.

"What?" Izumi asked, looking up from the book.

"Feel it! Feel the egg!" he begged, holding it out to her.

Her arms didn't leave the pages of the book. "But I've already felt it!"

"No! It's moving inside! Just feel it!"

Izumi sighed and put her hand into Masaru's flames and touched the egg. She felt something inside ram the wall of the egg then the whole thing fell still again. Her eyes went wide.

"Maybe we should talk to it!" Masaru suggested.

"Talk to it?" Izumi asked, puzzled to why he'd suggest such a silly thing.

"Yeah! Let it know it won't be alone when it comes into the world!" Masaru said enthusiastically.

"Uhh... sure?" Izumi leaned towards the egg.

"Hey dragon baby, are you warm enough in Saru's hands? Was I too hot for you? Is that why you moved for him and not me?"

"Don't be jealous. Maybe your fire un-petrified him or something!" Masaru said a bit more positively.

"Maybe," Izumi shrugged.

"Here, try red flames."

Masaru handed the dragon egg back to Izumi.

She felt it too. "Are you SURE it's a blue spitfire and not a red one?" Izumi asked.

"You have the book! Check the identifying marks on the egg!" Masaru said with a nod.

"Hmmmm... but he seems to respond better to red flames..."

"Maybe he just likes me more."

Izumi stuck her tongue out, trying to follow Saru's advice all the while.


That evening, the two children sat with Mai in her parlor reading like they did every evening since Izumi started learning how to read. The two children occupied one couch with their backs at opposite ends, perched up by pillows and their feet intertwined in the middle. The dragon egg was sitting in Masaru's lap.

"Zumi, I thought we told you to not give the egg away," Zuko said, entering the room late.

"I am not giving him away. I am sharing him. Incubating the thing is incredibly exhausting so I thought I'd give myself a break and exploit Masaru's help in keeping the thing safe," Izumi replied, not looking up from her book about some Earth Kingdom Prince who fell in love with the princess from an enemy tribe and then committed suicide when he thought she had died.

"Can't argue with her logic there," Mai commented, turning the page of a trade summary from the Southern Water Tribe.

"Masaru, are you okay with Izumi— exploiting you?" Zuko asked not quite sure he was comfortable with his young daughter learning so many big words.

"Well it's not exactly exploitation if I consent. We're sharing responsibility over the dragon egg," Masaru replied, closing the scroll he was reading and reaching for another he had brought from the library.

"Alright. As long as you're both content, I'm happy," Zuko said as he sat beside his wife, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and holding her tight against his body.

"Is it just me or do they act like they're having baby?" Zuko whispered in her ear.

"Spirits, Zuko! Don't even say that! They're seven! I cannot bear to even imagine our baby girl pregnant!" Mai scoffed. "They're just... hatching a dragon egg… together."

"I thought we weren't supposed to talk during silent sustained reading hour?" Masaru commented, bothered by the adults' whispering.

"Sorry, Saru," Zuko replied, blushing as he loosened his grip on Mai and picking up a business journal from the pile of recent publishings.

Masaru peered over the rim of his ancient scroll to make eye contact with Izumi who smirked from behind her book.