AN: Zutara week, day 2! This chapter was a lot of fun to write.

Counterpart

Oh, don't you dare look back
Just keep your eyes on me
I said, "You're holding back,"
She said, "Shut up and dance with me!"

- Walk the Moon

Sokka's and Suki's wedding is perfect.

After months of planning and frequent visits to the Fire Nation, after picking out clothes and food and entertainment, after hiring decorators and caterers and musicians and bodyguards, after sending out invitations to every corner of the world—Katara could not be happier with the result. The multicultural marriage ceremony went smoothly, the dinner was fantastic, and now everyone is laughing and talking and dancing.

Katara doesn't know exactly what it is, but something is in the air.

Maybe it's the heat.

The warmth of Ember Island is all-encompassing. It's the night of the summer solstice, the height of summer. The heat makes her blood sing with a feeling she can't place, makes her mind feel excited yet lethargic, makes her body feel heavy and light and the same time.

Katara can't deny that she's more than a little tipsy. Fire Nation cherry wine is amazing, and quite strong.

She swirls through the crowd like a river current, greeting familiar faces with smiles and short conversations, never stopping once, taking it all in. The newly wed couple is dancing together in the center of the hall. Katara snickers as she glances at them. Dancing is a generous term.

Sokka and Suki are literally just standing and holding each other close while other couples dance around them. The two aren't even moving with the music.

The music.

Maybe it's the music that's making Katara feel like this. The low smooth notes of the tsungi horn, the rhythmic drums, the rich echoes of strings, everything seamlessly blends into harmony. It makes her feet feel wild and restless, makes her soul feel free.

She twirls on the spot and bows happily to some Northern Water Tribe diplomats, then turns around and narrowly misses walking into a mountain.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, Uncle! I didn't see you there!"

Iroh smiles good-naturedly, holding her hand to steady her. "My dear Lady Katara! You look beautiful as always tonight! I actually came to ask a favor. See, my nephew is hiding by the bar! I am of the opinion that he needs to get a life. I humbly request that you help him find one."

Katara bursts into giggles. "What should I do?"

Iroh raises an eyebrow and smirks. "I leave the details to you, Lady Katara. Thank you!"

And just like that Iroh somehow disappears into the crowd. Katara blinks for a moment, disconcerted at how such a large man could just disappear. How many glasses of wine did she have, again? Katara has lost count.

Nah, it can't be the wine. She's only slightly tipsy.

Katara shrugs and slips through the crowd, spinning lazily, looking for a familiar face. As she approaches a congregation of people near the bar, she spots her grandmother. "Gran Gran! What are you doing over here?!"

"You know how many years it's been since I've had such good cherry wine?" remarks Kanna.

Katara shakes her head in exasperation. "Don't drink too much! Tui and La, it was bad enough last time at your own wedding!"

"Trust me, my dear, I am not drunk. I'm quite sober, and I know exactly what I'm doing." Gran Gran pats her on the shoulder as she walks by.

Katara suddenly gets turned around and shoved forward.

"Gran—oof!"

She collides with something solid.

Katara wobbles and nearly topples backward, but an arm has caught her around the waist. Her hands reach out to steady herself against something. Muscle. That's definitely muscle she's feeling. She blinks a few times and suddenly sees silk. Bright red Fire Nation silk, stained with the darker red of wine.

All at once she realizes who it is. She looks up.

"Hi," she says breathlessly.

"Umm, hi." Zuko's golden eyes are startled, but still clear and focused. He has definitely had less wine than her.

His arm around her waist loosens, and for some reason Katara is sad.

"Sorry about the shirt," she says sheepishly. "Here." She waves a hand and bends the wine out of his clothes, back into his glass.

Zuko smiles. "Thanks."

For a moment she stares at him. She's unable to find words. His expression is regal, but his gaze is warm. His messy bangs have fallen out of his fancy topknot. He looks so good in those layers of red silk, but his posture is shy and his voice seems almost nervous. He looks like a king and an ordinary young man all at once. How could someone so perfect be hiding at the edges of the crowd?

The feeling in her soul seems to sing with anticipation. Whatever this is, she needs this. She's been hoping for this.

He walks over to a waiter carrying empty glasses. Katara meanders after him.

"Zuuuuko," she calls, poking his shoulder with a finger. "Zuko!"

He adds his glass to the waiter's platter, then turns back to her with amusement and wariness.

"Yes, Katara?"

She takes a deep breath. He gazes at her expectantly.

"Will you dance with me?"

Zuko freezes like he's been cornered by a rabid moose-lion. "What?"

Katara grins. "Great!"

"Wait, what?"

She snatches his arm and pulls him after her, toward the part of the crowd filled with dancers. Katara ignores the alarm in his eyes and finds them a good spot, then twirls around and takes both his hands. Her blood is racing, her feet being tugged by the rhythm, her soul brimming with excitement.

"You ready?" she asks.

Zuko exhales nervously. "I doubt we know any of the same dances, Katara."

Katara laughs. "It doesn't matter!" She sways along with the rhythm and pulls his hands with her. He gulps, his eyes focused on her, his arms stiff. "Loosen up, Zuko! Stop being so boring, and just feel the music in your bones!"

He sighs. "Katara, I only know formal Fire Nation dances."

Katara frowns, then smirks wickedly.

"You know what I think, Zuko?" Katara leans her head in close to his, close enough that their noses are almost touching. If she leaned in a little more . . . she ignores that thought for now. "I think you're scared."

Something seems to catch fire in his golden eyes.

"Was that a challenge, peasant?"

Katara grins. "You bet it was, ya royal scaredycat."

Zuko's eyes narrow. "You don't know what you've started, Katara," he rasps. Katara almost shivers when he says her name. She's close enough to feel his warmth, close enough to smell the wine in his breath.

She tilts her head arrogantly. "Bring it on."

Zuko takes one of her hands and holds it out. Her other hand instinctively settles on his shoulder, while his falls to her side. The distance between them is too close for comfort, but Katara doesn't mind at all. No, this is a kind of uncomfortable she thinks she could get used to.

Destiny seems to be watching them, because just moments later, the music changes to something fast-paced and wild.

Zuko takes a step. Katara steps with him.

All at once they start moving, and Katara is breathless with exhilaration. She spins and pulls and flows like water, and he leads with purpose and short steps and fiery speed. The music grows wilder and begins to crescendo.

Katara doesn't even have time to think. She just moves.

Suddenly the ballroom is gone, and they're back in the Spirit Oasis once again, trading blows and finding themselves facing each other as worthy adversaries.

But it's more than that.

They're under Ba Sing Se once again, intimately close, sharing secrets. The distance between their bodies is small, the distance between their souls even smaller.

On the hunt for the Southern Raiders, they're working together with little need for words or gestures or silly formalities. They have one purpose, one goal, a silent understanding.

By the turtleduck pond under a full moon, they're alone, apart from the world. Content in each other's company, taking comfort in just being together.

Katara has been waiting patiently for years now, clinging to daydreams and occasional letters as if they were priceless treasures. Hoping, wishing, praying for something. And then Katara saw him again, at the turtleduck pond a few months ago, and she finally understood. The something was him. In all the months they spent until today, preparing for Sokka and Suki's wedding, Katara enjoyed spending time with Zuko, just being with him.

Every moment with him feels like sunshine, and Katara can't deny the truth. Zuko is her counterpart, her equal and opposite, her missing piece. He completes her, and she hopes that she does the same for him.

The music reaches its peak and he twirls her around.

They move in harmony. Katara spins and laughs breathlessly, then pulls him forward and falls into his arms.

All the rhythm and melody fades away.

Katara is lost. She's drowning in his golden eyes, melting into his lean and sculpted chest, feeling his breath on her skin. She's danced before, but not like this. Never before has she felt so much passion. They're both breathing heavily, their bodies tired and slick with sweat, yet Katara feels so alive.

She stares into his eyes, and he stares back.

"Hi, Katara," he whispers with a grin.

Katara giggles. "Hi, Zuko."

For a moment there is nothing but silence. Then a roar erupts around them and Katara is startled out of the daze she was in. She pulls back from him a little and looks around. Zuko seems just as confused as her. Her eyes widen. While they were dancing, many people had moved away to clear space for them. Now the other dancers are watching and cheering for them.

Zuko smirks down at her. "Seems like they enjoyed what they saw," he murmurs. "Want to give them something even better?"

Katara raises an eyebrow playfully. "Are you asking me to dance again, Zuko?"

The music has begun once more, but this time it's something not quite as fast, something more soulful. He shrugs. "I mean, I'm not tired at all. But if you're too tired, peasant, we can take a break. I'm more than willing to hide by the bar again. What do you say?"

Katara rolls her eyes and tugs on his hands, pulling him closer. "Just shut up and dance, Fire Lord." He laughs and doesn't reply with words.

As they start dancing again, Katara's soul soars, and her mind settles on one undeniable fact.

She is hopelessly in love with Zuko.

Perhaps that's why she doesn't see the assassin drop from the roof behind her, the knife lunging for Zuko's ribs. But they're dancing and moving fast, and it's not Zuko that the knife hits. No, Katara doesn't notice they're under attack until a searing pain explodes in her side.

. . .