Tales of Four Nations

Semi-Finals of the Pro-Bending Circuit: TV Tropes

I present to you: part 2 of the Superhero/Vigilante AU no one asked for...

Prompts:

- undercover cop reveal
- defeat means friendship
- parental Favouritism

Word count: 1 796 words

Notes: The whole reveal is pointless, since we know who the Blue Spirit is. But I guess it's about the journey, not the destination, right guys?
And, in case it wasn't clear, Sokka knows Suki is the Kyoshi Warrior but has no idea that Katara, Aang and Toph regularly join her in their own disguises.
Anyway, I'm not sure if anyone is actually reading this, let alone enjoying it, but if there are people out there who think this story might have some semblance of potential, let me know!


The Secret In Those Eyes
(Behind The Mask And The Disguise)
Part 2

"You!"

It's the Blue Spirit.

Katara's never met him before, but she's heard stories. Tales of his grace and stealth, of his flawless swordsmanship. He first appeared at the beginning of Fire Lord Iroh's reign, when certain members of the royal entourage refused to accept the change in power and in policies. He slowly built a reputation taking down corrupt politicians and traitorous guards.

No one knows who he is. He works alone.

Suki's a big fan.

At her outburst, he clamps once again a hand over her mouth, shaking his head. He leans forward, pressing his body against hers to look over her shoulder, out onto the street.

Katara fidgets indignantly, wondering if he's ever heard of personal space. He seems to register their current position and takes a step back, his hand dropping from her mouth. With the mask on, she can't see his face, but something about his posture looks almost... apologetic.

"I've heard of you. The Blue Spirit." Adjusting her hat, she surveils him warily. "I didn't really need your help back there. I would have taken care of them."

He doesn't say anything, but a noise that sounds suspiciously like a snort comes from behind the mask.

Right. Apparently, he's not a big talker, either.

"It's true!" She's feeling mildly offended now. "I'm a pretty good waterbender. And I've been doing this for years."

If the way he reaches behind his back to unsheathe his broad swords is any indication, he's taken her words as a challenge. He settles into a defensive position, and Katara swears he's smirking.

"Oh, for La's sake, I'm not going to fight you! This is stupid, we're on the same side," she grumbles. At least, she thinks they are. She doesn't actually know anything about the guy.

He returns his swords to his back and leans against the wall, crossing his arms. As he tilts his head to the side, it feels like he's studying her. The small blind alley suddenly seems even smaller.

She tugs at her veil. "But, anyway..." She clears her throat. "Thanks. I guess. For earlier."

He still doesn't answer- it's so frustrating! Why is she even bothering?

With a huff, she spins on her heels. She's taken a few steps when he grabs her bicep.

"It's dangerous." His voice is low, muffled by the mask, but it doesn't stop Katara's heart from skipping a beat in her chest.

"What?"

He shakes his head. "What you're doing. You're a great bender, I saw that earlier- with the Freedom Fighter. But you don't know how dangerous it is."

Katara blinks, incredulous. She's in a strange limbo between flattered and insulted, unsure as to how she should react. So she decides to go for good old trusty sarcasm. "Um. Yeah, you're right," she scoffs. "How would I know how dangerous it is to defend my city?"

Righteous anger- the kind that has fueled her ever since she was a child, that has brought her to this exact moment in time- pulses through her veins. He makes a move, like he's about to interrupt, but she cuts him off. She's having none of it. Not now.

"We've got a chief of police to take care of our safety, anyway. Oh wait, that's right. He's not doing anything about it! This city's crumbling from the inside and he doesn't care!"

She's so caught up in her own fury she doesn't notice the way she's got him backed against the wall, palm pressing into his chest.

"Of course he does!" The Blue Spirit's outburst takes Katara by surprise, stunning her into silence. "You have no idea!" Katara drops her hand and her eyes drift to his clenched fists by his side. The only source of light comes from a flickering lamppost fifteen feet away, but she's sure she sees smoke rising from his curled fingers. "He may be chief of police here in Republic City, but he's also the Fire Nation Prince. He's being watched twenty-four seven. Every single move he makes is noted, registered, analyzed- to be thrown back in his face or used against the royal family."

She hears him sigh, and despite the muffled quality of his voice, there's no mistaking the defeat in his tone. "He sees it all. The hunger. The disparities. He can't fight the way you do, but trust me- it doesn't mean he cares any less. He's trying to make things better. For everyone. You just... you just have to give him some time."

The defeat makes way for a newfound fervor, and Katara is struck by the sudden need to see his eyes. Eyes, she's been told, never lie.

"Fine." She licks her lips, attempting to sound flippant. "I'll give him the benefit of the doubt. For now."

The Blue Spirit ducks his head. "He thanks you for it," he replies gruffly.

There's a minute of awkward silence during which the two vigilantes shuffle their feet and cautiously avoid each other's gazes. Well, Katara avoids his- she can't tell what's going on behind that infuriating mask.

Oh, but she sort of wants to, though.

"I should get going," she says finally, making her way out of the alley. She halts in front of the knocked-out bodies. "What about these guys?"

The Blue Spirit shakes his head. "Don't worry about it. I'll deal with them."

She hesitates for a second before lifting her shoulders in a small shrug. Her eyebrows shoot up when he takes a step to follow her. "You're not going to chaperone me, are you?"

The mask emits a sound that closely resembles a laugh. "No, I'm not. I've bee told you can take care of yourself." He reaches out to brush his gloved hands against her bare elbow. It's the lightest of touches, but it's enough to send a spark straight to her spine. "Stay safe, though."

The tiny action perturbs her. Wordlessly, Katara nods, before dashing out of the alley into the night.

She forces herself not to look back.


The Blue Spirit watches the Painted Lady turn the corner and lets out a breath. Digging into his pocket, he whips out his phone to make a call. It takes the black car a quarter of an hour to turn up. When it pulls to a stop, he hauls the two unconscious assailants onto the backseat. Making sure there isn't anyone around, he slips off his mask and gets into the front passenger seat, where his colleague- and let's be honest, one of his only friends- glares at him.

"You're going to get killed one day doing this, Zuko."

Zuko shoots his partner a cynical look. "Because working for the police force is so safe."

"It isn't the same, and you know it." Sokka shakes his head and groans. "As prince and chief of police, of course you're going to have opposers. You can't please everyone with whatever decisions you make. But the Blue Spirit has a target painted on his back. He's made specific enemies, violent ones. Who'll stop nothing to get revenge for the wrongs they believe have been done to them."

"You're talking about Zhao."

"Of course I am!" Sokka cries, running a hand through his hair and messing up his wolf-tail. "He was an ass to Prince Zuko. But he almost got the Blue Spirit murdered. Excuse me for not wanting you to die." He rubs his face with one hand, the other gripping the wheel tightly. "Plus, can you imagine the reactions of the people when they find out the Prince of the Fire Nation is gallivanting around in a mask to fight crime?"

Zuko's jaw ticks as he stares out of the window. "They are going to have to deal with it, because I'm not stopping, Sokka. I'm doing this for them."

The information he receives as the Blue Spirit is astounding compared to what he gets as part of the police, or even as royalty. With a mask on, the hierarchy fades, his position of authority vanishes. People see him as an equal, as one of them.

And there's a part of him that revels in being someone else, in not being Zuko for a while. He's never been a prodigal firebender. His father has taken extreme pleasure in pointing it out incessantly throughout his childhood, as his sister Azula- perfect, precocious, proficient Azula- smirks by his side. Mastering the dao swords has therefore been a major source of personal pride, but one he can't publicly share with others.

After all, he thinks bitterly, it's beneath royalty to use a sword for combat.

But as the Blue Spirit, however... his hard-earned skill saves lives.

Sokka's voice tears him away from his thoughts. "What were you doing, anyway?"

"I got a tip about the Freedom Fighter's plan to rob the Crystal Catacombs. By the time I got there, the Kyoshi Warrior and her crew were dealing with it- well, the Painted Lady was dealing with him- so I stood back to watch a little. Then she got sort of ambushed, so I lent a hand." Zuko shrugs a little sheepishly. "Sorry I forgot to call you. She did a good job, though. You saw that."

Sokka guffaws. "You bet she did- the state that first guy was in, phew!" He shoots Zuko a side look. "So, what's the Painted Lady like? She's quite mysterious, that one."

The firebender lowers his head to stare at the mask in his hand, his fingers absently tracing the white markings. He recalls the raw power as she slammed a wave into the thief, the barely suppressed anger in each of her movements as she dodged his double hooks and raised her hands to form a water whip. She fought unlike any waterbender he's ever seen. It was mesmerizing.

And he remembers those piercing blue eyes behind the veil, challenging and probing, demanding things from him she didn't even realize she was asking.

Something twists in his stomach- something he hasn't felt in a long time.

Zuko looks up and catches Sokka's gaze in the rearview mirror. "She's... " The faintest of smiles appears on his lips. "She's definitely something."

His friend grins, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Zuko. My man. It's been a while."

Before Zuko can protest, Sokka lets out a gleeful cry as he looks out the window. "Ooh, what do you say about making a pit-stop before getting back to the station? I'm suddenly craving some deep friend chicken."

"Sure, let's do that." Zuko shakes his head in amusement at his partner's delight.

He shuts his eyes with a soft sight, leaning his head against the window, and proceeds to lose himself in thoughts of veiled, painted red lips and long dark curls.