"I'm just . . . thinking," Katara said lamely, halting her pacing and turning to face him, posture slightly defensive. She hadn't even realized she had arrived at the fountain, let alone begun circling it.
Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Zuko stared somewhere past her left elbow, seeming uncertain of what to do. With a shrug, he opened and closed his mouth soundlessly a few times before finally finding the words to ask, "Wh-what's, uh . . . On your mind?"
Her eyes narrowed in a reflexive scowl. "None of your business!"
She moved to dart past him, but he feigned left, blocking her path. Hands held up (palms out) in a sign of surrender, he said, "Look, I know you're upset – and you have every right to be – and I know it won't fix anything, but . . ." he hesitated, took a breath, and ploughed forward, "I'm sorry. For everything. And I wanna make it up to you – show you I'm different now. Is there . . . anything I can help with?"
Heat coursed through her veins, making her skin burn with anger. Who the hell did he think he was? Did he think she was? Did she seem like someone who would be all smiles and sunshine after what he had done? Did he think she should be so quick to forgive?
Well, he was sorely mistaken! She knew his games, and she wasn't about to fall for his "I'm-so-nervous-and-shy-please-don't-hate-me" act!
"You can get out of my way," Katara snarled, shoving past him. "And make sure the others don't destroy the kitchen."
Unfortunately, it wasn't quite so easy to rid herself of him.
He followed her.
"You're upset about something else, aren't you?" he asked, keeping a fair distance behind her as she stalked down the corridor. "You're usually more patient than this."
"Well maybe I'm tired of being patient!" she snapped, whirling around to face him. "Maybe I don't wanna smile and beat around the bush and let people down gently!"
Shouting, however, proved ineffective against Zuko's iron will.
"Something's bothering you," he insisted. "You might hate me, but you still know how to act civil."
"Well," she huffed, crossing her arms, "even if something was bothering me, I wouldn't tell you about it."
He shrugged, nodded, looked completely unaffected. "Fair enough."
This wasn't turning out quite the way she had hoped.
He strode closer with a sense of purpose that made her spirits rise, sending her visions of him doing something stupid and her shouting and him yelling back and a fight breaking out, providing some much needed release. This was Zuko she was talking to, after all; he could only stand being pushed around so much before shoving back.
"But I'd still like to help," he said as though there had been no pause in conversation, standing arm's length away (which was closer than he had ever dared under normal circumstances).
"I don't need help." Not from him, anyway.
Inclining his head slightly, he allowed a small smile to tug at the corner of his lips. "You sound like me."
With a snort of disgust, she turned to continue toward . . . Well, she still wasn't sure where she intended to go. Anywhere Zuko wouldn't be.
At least, that was how things worked out in her head. His tight grip on her wrist seemed to indicate otherwise.
"Let me go!"
"Maybe you should talk to my uncle. He's –"
"I don't want to talk to anyone!"
"– great with advice." Zuko's grip tightened as Katara pulled harder, patience seeming to thin. "You have to let someone help!"
"I don't have to do anything!" she snapped, pulling against him with all her might. "Now let me go before I make you!"
"Try it."
The words barely left his mouth before a jet of water ploughed into his side.
Winded and wet, he let out a low-throated growl as he pushed himself onto his hands and knees, wiping water from his eyes.
'This is good,' she thought, positing her hands in a simple waterbending stance and giving him a beckoning stare. 'This is exactly what I need.'
Climbing to his feet, Zuko inhaled deeply and exhaled steam, the hot air evaporating the water from his clothes. He did this once, twice, three times, all the while clenching his fists and keeping his eyes shut tight. It took a full ten seconds for Katara to realize what he was doing.
He was calming himself.
This wasn't how things were supposed to happen! How was she going to fight him if he was going to become all calm and patient and stop having knee-jerk reactions?
Perhaps a little more pushing was in order.
With a graceful upward swing of her arms, she pulled water from the fountain in the courtyard behind Zuko. There wasn't time to blink before it came slamming into his back, knocking him to his hands and knees.
This time, his reaction was much more instantaneous.
Jumping up and forward, he launched a fistful of fire at her, a wordless shout tearing from his throat. The flames were easily met with a wave of water, fizzling to puffs of smoke.
The puddle at Zuko's feet frosted over. The slushy substance then shot up his leg, solidifying completely as it went and locking him in place as he continued throwing a barrage of fireballs. There was barely time for this to register (and indeed it did, if his gasp at the sudden cold was anything to go by) before Katara was darting forward, whole body twisting as she bent more water from the fountain, splitting it into a dozen separate streams. Each coiled around a part of his body – upper torso, lower torso, arms, neck, head – tying him like a hog-lizard and freezing in place.
Despite the adrenaline and anger fuelled circumstances, the action was actually quite soothing. The water was at her command and her command only; whatever she wanted it to do was done, no questions asked. The authority a few simple hand motions held was a comfort.
But not one she could blissfully enjoy. Not when Zuko was melting himself free.
There was no chance to resolidify his entrapment. He was free and darting forward in seconds, aiming low and fast. Punches and kicks and intricate movements created an onslaught of fire she could barely keep up with, forcing her backward and building a wall of smoke. Fatigue found her surprisingly fast – had she really used up that much energy so quickly?
But Zuko showed no signs of tiring, his gaze never leaving her as he attacked with flames that seemed to have a life of their own.
Then her back was against the wall and his hands (palms rough and hot) were pinning her arms to her sides.
"I don't want to hurt you," he hissed, breath short but voice firm. "I'm just trying to help."
"Funny way of helping," she panted, struggling against his grip.
"You attacked me."
Well –"
"What are you doing to my sister?"
Zuko jumped back as if Katara had caught fire, spinning around to face Sokka. The other boy stood in the breezeway leading to the kitchen, narrow-eyed gaze locked on Zuko.
"I can explain –"
"Right," Sokka scoffed, cutting him off. "I'd love to hear it, just as soon as Toph is here to bust your ass for lying." To Katara, he said, "Are you okay? He didn't hurt you, did he?"
"No," she said, the tiniest knot of guilt forming in her gut. She hadn't intended to cause a scene or bring Zuko anymore trouble than he already had. Beating on him had seemed like punishment enough. "I just –"
"What's wrong?" Aang called, hurrying down the breezeway toward them, Toph following close behind. "We heard shouting and – hey, why's everything all wet?"
"Zuko attacked Katara," Sokka snarled.
Eyes widening, then narrowing to slits, Aang turned to Zuko with clenching fists. "You what?"
"No, I . . ." Zuko started, holding his hands up defensively and taking a step backward. But no one seemed interested in listening; everyone began talking at once, shouting accusations and threats, all agreeing on one thing – Zuko would not be let off lightly.
"Guys!" Katara shouted, moving to stand between Zuko and her friends. "Stop! Listen!"
"To what?" Sokka asked, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms. "You can't honestly be defending him."
"No, I just . . . This is all a misunderstanding," she said, struggling for words and trying to ignore Zuko's gaze boring into the back of her head. At the same time, she shot Toph a look, hoping she would feel her stare and know not to rat her out. "We were just sparring! No big deal. Nothing to worry about."
"Katara," Aang said in a slow, level tone, "I want to be able to trust him, but you don't have to lie for him. I've still got Iroh to teach me if Zuko's causing problems."
"No, really – everything's fine."
Eyeing her for a moment, Aang turned to Toph, asking, "What's her heartbeat say?"
The smirk on Toph's lips was enough to give Katara a heart attack, prompting her to shout a mental prayer to Yue. 'Please, please, please don't let her tell the truth. Make her let me off the hook this one time!'
"Feels true to me."
If the smirk hadn't sent her into cardiac-arrest, those words certainly did.
Toph was actually letting it go? Was actually letting go of an opportunity to watch her (and, well, probably Zuko) squirm and fumble for an explanation? There had to be some ulterior motive. Had to be. Why else would she be wearing such a devious smirk?
In the meantime, Sokka still seemed determined to prove that looks could kill, his glare never wavering from Zuko even as Toph delivered the mind-boggling verdict. Finally, after a long stretch of silence, he said, "Fine. But I've still got my eye on you!" He pointed two fingers at his own eyes, then at Zuko, finishing the threat with a throat slitting gesture.
Gaze softening but still holding a trace of anger and worry, Aang looked between Zuko and Katara, saying, "Alright. But next time, can you give us some warning that you're just sparring?"
"Sure thing," Zuko said while sending Katara a questioning, side-long glance. She stifled a groan; this was going to require some explanation, wasn't it?
"Hey, Sugar Queen," Toph called as the other two left for the kitchen, smirk bigger than ever. "There's something I need to talk to you about. Mind visiting my room before you go to bed?"
"Sure."
Great. Now not only would she have to find a way to explain things to Zuko, she would have to do the same for Toph. Which would be a lot trickier, since Toph was bound to push for the whole truth and nothing but the truth.
Katara wasn't even sure she fully understood her why she had done it – the act had been a slight bit impulsive. Even as she said the words excusing the whole thing she had imagined what kind of punishment Zuko might endure. Exile from the temple? Doing all the chores for the rest of their stay? Having to remain within ten feet of Jet at all times? There was no denying that she would've liked to see him suffer.
Once the other three had finally left, Katara turned to Zuko. May as well get one explanation out of the way.
"Don't think this means everything's fine between us," she hissed, eyes narrowed as she jabbed him in the chest with her forefinger. "Because it's not, and I would've loved to see what Sokka – not to mention Jet – would've cooked up as punishment."
"So why not let them do it?" he asked quickly, cutting her off her little tirade. His voice was low and calm, gold eyes looking down at her as though staring intently enough would unravel all the answers.
"Because I'm a good person and I can't watch another person take the blame for something I did."
"So you admit you started it?"
Her scowl deepened. "Yes, fine. Not the point. You still deserved it."
"The beating or almost getting blamed for starting it?"
"Both!" she snapped, his teasing beginning to grate on her already-thin nerves. Even more annoying was the fact that he was actually smiling. What reason did he have to be happy? Nothing about their current situation was happy!
"Alright," he said, grin lingering as he began to walk away, partially turned toward her as he added, "I'll be sure to watch my step."
Huffing (how could he be so casual and cheerful after what she had just done to him?), Katara turned on her heel and stalked off toward the kitchen.
Disclaimer: "Avatar: The Last Airbender" and all of its characters are property of Nickelodeon, which I am in no way associated with.