Disclaiming Banner: I own a pair of brilliant red shoes, but they are not made of rubies and do not grant wishes. So I don't own ATLA.
Fissure
Jee knew he was petty. That knowledge in and of itself did not make him any less so. He, and the Prince, (and quite possibly the ship's cook) knew that the dissension between them had been of Jee's own stupidity. He had been the one to approach. He had allowed that the Prince set the rules. He had been the one to get smoked on shore leave and wake up with not one but two ladies of dubious pedigree. It didn't mean that he felt less angry than Zuko did. Had.
He had wanted, after that typhoon, to start again. But Jee just hadn't had enough time before Zhou interfered.
After he finally returned to the homeland one medical discharge among many; he felt the old ire anew. He had been out for a walk in the meditation gardens when he saw them, his Prince and a young lady. Who she was didn't matter, but her familiarity was painful. Jee felt like a ghost as they lazed beneath a yulan tree. It seemed to be a favored place, books and blankets spread around them. He watched her receive kisses Zuko had perfected on him.
His smile was the same.
