Part One: Battle for Ba Sing Se

Chapter 8: The Battle Lost and Won

"War does not determine who is right, only who is left." ~ unknown

Sokka did not know how many men he had bashed with his cudgel. He had stopped counting. The battlefield was a writhing mess of bodies, flame and smoke. Only the desire to see his father again made him push on.

When Pui En fell to his knees, knocked over by a polearm, Sokka flung his boomerang at the Fire Navy man responsible. His trusty boomerang knocked the man's visor askew. Sokka used this moment to get in close, then rammed his kierie into the soldier's stomach.

The soldier lost his balance and fell back on the sand. Sokka fell with him. A struggle of limbs followed. He was lucky this man was no bender. Eventually Sokka pulled the ji polearm out of the soldier's hands. He got to his feet, loomed over the Fire Nazi, hefted the polearm, and drove it through the man's right thigh. The soldier still wriggled, tried to get the polearm out of him. It was a pitiful sight. Sokka winced, then reminded himself these men were a lot older. They had chosen this life for themselves, the life of a soldier in the Fire Navy. They were nothing like him and his people: who were fighting to protect their loved ones, defend their own land. No, these Fire Navy soldiers had come here to take lives, to invade and steal what wasn't theirs. Should've just stayed in their Fire Nation, where these people belong. Sokka shook his head, bent over the man and lifted his helmet.

Huh. So it really was a man this time. An old one too: grey hairs sprouting from his skull. Fucker lived long enough already. Sokka kicked him in the head for good measure, then took the man's ji polearm: it could come in handy later. Blood splattered violently as the weapon was removed. Sokka wiped the polearm's blade on the man's dark grey breeches.

Pui En recovered, crawled over the dirty sand, and retrieved Sokka's boomerang for him.

Sokka placed the Fire Navy helmet on Pui En's head. "Can you walk?"

His battle buddy leaned on him for support, then slowly struggled to his feet. Pui En smiled. There was pain in his eyes.

"I can try," he gurgled. "The cut is not that deep."

Sokka nodded grimly. They pushed on, sticking close together, marching side by side. With each step Pui En's condition worsened. Sokka kept shooting him worried glances, but there was not much he knew how to do... He could clean a wound, but they hardly had any clean water at hand. Beyond that, Sokka was pretty much a zero. When it came to first aid, he had absolutely no idea what to do, where to even start. With a heavy exhale he admitted he had relied too much on his little sister. Katara knew how to heal people. And Sokka... he had never bothered to learn.

They climbed up a rough incline: a dune covered with bleeding bodies. Mostly Fire Navy, though Sokka spotted some of his own men here and there. He winced. The faces looked familiar. He regretted not having known their names.

At the top of the hill Pui En's legs gave out. He sank in a heap to the sand, spear by his side.

"You should head back," Sokka said, looking his battle buddy over. "A long soak in the sea will do you good."

Pui En let out a howl. Sokka was taken aback by his brash laughter.

"Salt in my wounds!" Pui En chuckled. His eyes crinkled at the corners. "What about you though?"

Sokka pursed his lips, shoulders stiff as he clenched his fingers around the ji polearm. "I'll be ok," he muttered without conviction.

Pui En sighed. "Ah but you see," he said, emphatically gripping Sokka's ankle. Sokka stared at him. Pui En's smile warmed. "I'd like to see with my own eyes."

Confusion swirled within Sokka, and he showed it on his face.

Pui En snorted. "That you are well," he said. "I'd like to see it."

"But," Sokka twisted his lip, not liking this one bit. He frowned more deeply, sending an intense stare at his battle buddy. "But you can't even walk!"

That stupid smile was on Pui En's mouth again. The guy shrugged. "I'll deal."

He got up, using his spear as a walking stick. Sokka stared at him, shook his head. They kept on trudging through the sand, deeper into battle, closer to where the heavy fighting was going on.

"For the record I disagree with this," Sokka said loudly. "You should head back. You're not battle ready."

Pui En just laughed. "Can't tell me what to do." He winked. "I'm older."

Sokka rolled his eyes. "Dumbass."

His battle buddy took it with an amused smile, as he kept lumbering on. They were attacked from all sides before the Fire Navy silhouettes registered in Sokka's peripheral vision. Three soldiers: two men with a double edged jian sword, one man with a sai dagger in each hand.

Sokka struck out with his looted ji polearm. The wild swing of his weapon kept dagger-man at bay. But the two swordsmen converged on him, attacking in perfect sync. Like they were trained to do this. Sokka dodged, blocking their jian swords with his polearm the way he'd seen Pui En do with his spear.

With a grunt Pui En put his weight on his legs. He observed the fighters, watched Sokka block and dodge, weave between the Fire Navy soldiers. Then, with a well timed toss, Pui En threw his one and only spear at a swordsman.

The Water Tribe spear pierced the Fire Navy man through the ribs, hitting him in a vulnerable spot, the tiny gap between two plates of his armor. The man cried out in agony. Sokka blinked in amazement as the soldier crumpled to his knees.

"Wow!" Sokka yelled in South Pole speak, "you're great at this Pui En! I didn't even know technique like that existed."

It got a lot easier to dodge now there was only one sword slashing at him. Sokka blocked with the polearm and attacked with his knobkerrie: a splendid block and attack combo.

"Well, ..." Pui En drawled sheepishly. "I did win best Blue Scallop Thrower five times in row before we left the South Pole."

Sokka whistled, battering the swordsman's side with his cudgel. "You'll have to teach me sometime."

"Haha, yeah." Pui En's laugh was shaky and unsteady. He sounded like he was trying to conceal his injuries, downplay their toll on him.

Sokka bit his lip and lashed out bitterly with his knobkerrie. They had to get out of here fast. He had to get Pui En back to shore, to the sea, find a safe place for his buddy to rest and clean his battle wounds. Then he had to come back here, alone, and help Dad and the other Tribesmen. Pui En was in no condition to fight. This could only end badly if he stayed.

A dagger flashed in Sokka's periphery. He sank to the ground and dodged it. But this was cutting it close. Wind fanned his face as the sai dagger passed over his head. Too close. Sokka gulped. He blocked the jian sword with his polearm, and avoided another jab of the dagger. A staying sweat broke out on Sokka's forehead. He was keeping them at bay for now, but for how long?

It seemed like these soldiers never tired. Or they were that well trained. They had to be, to survive this long on the battlefield.

Sokka bit down a sob when the sai daggers slashed him in the lower arm. He winced. It hurt. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt, it hurt, it hurt. He kept going, despite the stinging pain in his left arm, despite the tears that made the world around him go foggy.

He got slashed in the leg. His right leg hurt like a motherfucker. Sokka struck out wildly with his ji polearm, no longer seeing, no longer caring. Going for maximum damage. He squeezed his eyes shut and lashed out blindly, letting out battle cry after battle cry as his hits landed on something soft enough to be a body, hard enough to be protected by armor.

Blinking his eyes open, Sokka observed the damage he'd caused. Those Fire Navy soldiers barely had a scratch on them. Sokka cursed, loudly and in Calderan. He shook his head, winced at his own lack of prowess, lack of training, his piss-poor fighting skill.

The swordsman raised his jian blade and ran in for an attack, shouting a battle cry. Sokka froze. So this was it, then. And he didn't even get to see his Dad. This was where his story ends.

Sokka closed his eyes bitterly, accepting his fate.

If it had to be, then it had to be. He only regretted not being able to protect his fallen battle buddy from these monsters. But then, so be it. Sokka could not exactly watch over him in death. If legends were true, and Sokka did not believe in legends, then he would be reborn within another vessel the moment his spirit left his body, all memory of his past life wiped clean. If legends were false, then his light would get snuffed out like a candle. His body would turn to mud after being given back to the sea. His spirit would fragment and shatter to a million pieces, drift apart on the wind. Turn to nothing but dust. He would simply cease to exist.

And the war would cease to exist, for him.

So his mind was at ease. He knew that whatever happened, things couldn't get worse.

He was wrong. Sokka's eyes flew open when the sword did not strike him. He held his breath at the sight before him... Pui En had bodily placed himself between the Fire Nazi and Sokka. The tip of the jian sword stuck out of Pui En's back. A shivery gurgle escaped his lips.

Sokka gasped. "No," he whispered, "no!" voice growing loud.

"Get out of here," Pui En mumbled in South Pole speak. "Run, Sokka, run."

Sokka shook his head, all the pain in his arm and leg forgotten. "No! No you can't die Pui En. You were supposed to lay low and wait till you can see my sister. She's a healer. She can help you!" he spoke with an urgency he'd never felt before.

He needed to get the words out, soothe himself with comforting lies. This was not the end, this couldn't be.

But for Pui En, it was. His body sagged, dragging the jian sword down.

Sokka couldn't take his eyes off his fallen friend.

The swordsman drew his double edged sword out of Pui En. He sheathed his sword, then turned away, facing another battle.

"Finish him off," said the swordsman in simple Calderan. "He's just a child; nothing you can't do."

The man with the sai daggers grumbled, but approached with new vigor in his step. Sokka looked up at him. He noticed the swordsman going away, heading off to battle someone else. This chapter closed for him.

Sokka grit his teeth. His fingers clenched around the kierie and the ji polearm he still held.

"Hey!" he called after the retreating swordsman. "Whom did you call just a child?"

The swordsman looked over his shoulder, his body posture so casual. "Oh," he said, too detached to sound amused. "This one has spirit. Okay youngster," he said, turning to face Sokka fully. "Show me what you've got. Perhaps our great Nation can make use of you yet. We're always in short supply of strong and stupid nonbender slaves these days."

Something itched within Sokka to prove him wrong and drag that man's face through the dirt. He narrowed his eyes at his enemies, noting their pace, the heaviness of their step.

A split second later he had tossed his boomerang. It went over their heads without landing a hit. Dagger-man laughed. But Sokka did not care. He charged into the man, leading with the polearm. Pointy end directed at the soldier's chest.

He didn't quite catch the angle he was going for: that tiny gap between two plates of armor, the way he'd seen Pui En strike. Sokka missed by about an inch. Ended up only pushing dagger man back by a few feet.

With a low growl Sokka bashed that guy's knees. He raised his kierie again. Struck down, again and again, yelling South Pole speak obscenities. That's when the swordsman came in close. Sokka jumped back, landing in a kneeling crouch, six feet away. He noticed his boomerang flash in the sky.

The Fire Navy men didn't. Boomerang swished through the air, getting closer.

It hit dagger man in the back of his head. He fell over, skull mask first into the sand. One man down; one more to go.

Swordsman approached him warily: shoulders hunched like a predator, chest pushed forward, legs bent, sword raised over his head. Dagger man wasn't dead yet, just incapacitated. Sokka had to make this quick, before dagger man recovered.

He made zig-zagging motions with the ji polearm, further confusing the Fire Nazi swordsman. When the man's skull mask turned to the left, to look at the polearm's pointy end, Sokka dropped the polearm. Dropped the polearm and lunged at the soldier from his other side, knobkerrie at the ready.

Sokka got in a good hit while the soldier was distracted. His cudgel battered the man's side: a weak spot in the Fire Navy uniform, where weak chain mail connected two plates of armor.

The swordsman grunted, but got away. Put some safe distance between himself and Sokka. They stared each other down. Sokka panted, as some of his hair got into his eyes. The skull mask looked back at him menacingly.

"You're something else boy," the swordsman said. "Pity you're not fighting for us. The Fire Nation could use a new recruit like you."

Sokka spat on the sand. "I'm not interested." Who did these Fire Nazis think they were? That they could order him around like this? Right after killing his friend, in front of his very eyes. They would pay. Sokka would make them bleed and suffer for what they'd done to his men, to his Tribe.

The swordsman hummed. "How old would you be? You don't seem like a legal adult, even by your Tribe's standards."

"None of your business."

"Touchy. Look, I'm just offering you a job, kid. You're not that bad with a weapon. And you're decent at acting under pressure. With any luck we can make a good Fire Nation soldier out of you yet."

"You think I'd go along with you, after what you monsters did to my people?"

"It's the only way you're getting out of this alive." There was no emotion in the swordsman's voice, no inflection. He sounded like a machine, like there wasn't a man of flesh and blood beneath that skull mask. "Think about it. Do you want to die a martyr?" The man spread his arms, and continued talking calmly.

Sokka felt sick. He hiccupped, the tears came back, stung his eyes. There was too much salt. The world tilted.

"Or would you rather lead a productive life, one where you could help hundreds of people?" the voice above him droned on.

When had Sokka fallen to the ground? He did not know. He only saw the imposing figure of the Fire Navy soldier loom high above him.

"The Fire Nation is not as unforgiving as you think. We respond well to the type of dogged tenacity you have shown here. Unlike the Earth Kingdom, we have upward mobility. You can be born from the lowest of the low, and rise up through the ranks of the Fire Nation through merit alone. I am Captain Nenad. I have the authority to hire new recruits. And I like what I see. Do well in my unit, and you might make it very far indeed."

Not a soldier. This man was a captain. He commandeered an entire ship. This factoid made Sokka want to hurt him even more.

"Over my dead body," Sokka growled, sitting up. His kierie lay in the sand, about two feet away. He couldn't reach it. But he had his fists, and he was ready to fight.

Captain Nenad let out a disappointed sigh. "It's sad when Tribes use children to fight their battles. You seem like a reasonable young man with a good head on your shoulders. Tell me boy, just what will your death here accomplish?"

With a battle cry Sokka pounced the Captain, leading with a flurry of fists. Captain Nenad blocked and countered his attack, striking Sokka's left shoulder with the hilt of his sword. Sokka fell back, grasping his shoulder in agony.

He heard footsteps. Captain Nenad walked up close, his boots crunching seashells. Sokka saw the flash of a sword, and then... the crescent blade of a Water Tribe battle axe hacked into Nenad's neck. The man fell into a heap on the sand, closer to death than life. Sokka blinked. He looked up at the attacker. His heart stood still.

"Dad..."

"Sokka!" there was an urgency to Dad's tone. He knelt beside him, searching him with his eyes. "Are you alright? Can you stand?"

It was only then that his own general state of being registered in Sokka's mind. His left arm still bled below the elbow. The wound on his right leg had started clotting. He hissed out in pain when he moved his left shoulder.

"Easy there," Dad helped him up.

Sokka felt lightheaded standing on his own two feet. He vaguely noted five other Tribesmen around them. The Water Tribe warriors made sure Captain Nenad and dagger man would never get up again. A lump formed in Sokka's throat.

"I'm fine," he croaked, "but Pui En... he... he didn't make it Dad."

There were tears in his eyes as he got the words out.

"It's going to be okay," said Dad, fixing his battle axe to his belt. "Sokka you've been very brave and I'm proud of you Son."

Sokka shook his head. "I... Dad, ...I shouldn't have come here." His shoulders sagged as he hiccupped his words. "Instead of watching over you, I ended up making you save me."

A sad smile crossed Dad's face. "It's true that I didn't want you to see this," he spread his arms, gesturing at the battleground. "It's... not easy to stomach. The things we're made to do, the things this war has made us do... When you see it the first time," Dad looked sombre. "It breaks men."

"Dad!" Sokka lurched forward and embraced his father in a tight hug.

He felt a calloused hand stroke his hair. The tears sprung unbidden to his eyes.

"Bato," Sokka blurted. "...Bato is... Bato and the others are..." he couldn't get the words out.

"Shhh," said his father's calm and soothing voice, the one he reserved for small children.

"They're... they're safe," Sokka lied as he disentangled himself from his father's arms. He couldn't bring himself to tell his Dad the truth.

Still somehow, it seemed Dad saw right through the lie. A haunted look passed over his face. Like he understood. Like he knew Bato was gone.

Sokka bit his lip. "Toph and the others are off to Ba Sing Se."

Dad nodded, though his eyes told Sokka that he did not believe him.

"Chief Hakoda!" one of the Tribesmen interrupted their reunion.

Turning toward his fellow warrior, Dad asked: "What is it?"

"Some of our men are facing a highly trained squad. They're outnumbered."

Dad's face hardened. "Lead the way. We'll surround them." He bent down to take the cudgel Sokka had dropped. "I believe this belongs to you," he said, handing it back.

"No I..." said Sokka, accepting it. "I found this knobkerrie on the battlefield."

At this, Dad's eyes widened.

"I lost mine in the Si Wong Desert. Left it on Appa's saddle, back when they... when the sandbenders stole the Avatar's sky bison," Sokka admitted with a sigh. He still felt some guilt over that. The only weapons he had left were his boomerang and his machete. He supposed his jaw blade also counted, ...but that wasn't really a weapon. Metal and wood were so hard to come by on the South Pole. These weapons weren't cheap, nor easy to make.

"In that case I admire your ability to adapt."

Sokka blinked up at Dad. "...Huh?"

"Life is messy and there's many circumstances which cannot be foreseen. Even the best laid plans need adjusting. You couldn't have known thieves would steal the Avatar's bison. And yet you made do with the weapons and armor that you had, acquiring new ones on your way here," Dad gestured at Sokka's Fire Navy helmet.

"Dad, ...I.." he had no words to voice his gratitude. A big smile broke out on Sokka's face. "Thank you Dad. This means a lot. It means a lot to hear you say that."

A fond smirk slipped onto his father's features. "Right, now let's get going. I'll fill you in on the plan as we walk."

The plan was simple enough. The seven of them would sneak up on the squad of firebenders. They would hide behind a ridge of rocks, then ambush when the Fire Nazis least expected them. Dad would give the signal to attack.

Sokka held his breath, keeping his head low as he observed the fight through a peephole in the rock. Three Tribesmen were fending off five firebenders. Sokka nearly yelped in anguish when one firebender burned a Tribesman's shin pad off. He looked over at Dad, crouching in the rocks beside him.

But his father shook his head. Not yet.

Sokka sighed, casting his eyes at the fight again.

One Tribesman disarmed a firebender, tossing his jian sword off to the side.

"Now," Dad hissed in South Pole speak.

Sokka flung his boomerang up in the sky, as he and the others jumped out of their hiding spots.

The disarmed firebender was easily taken down by two of their Tribesmen, who pinned his arms to the ground. The rest of the squad proved more tricky. Dad swung his battle axe, missing one firebender's shoulder by about an inch. Sokka lunged in to batter that firebender's knee with his cudgel, but had to step back when a wave of flame practically hit him in the face.

He grinned when his boomerang made a comeback. These Fire Navy scum rarely saw it coming. It was the perfect sneak attack from the Water Tribe.

But this time... his boomerang was spotted in mid-air. Sokka's jaw dropped as one of the four soldiers blasted his boomerang with fire.

His boomerang lost its forward motion and dropped straight down, like the heavy chunk of metal it was. Sokka forcibly shut his mouth and frowned. What else could he do? What were their weak spots?

A sinking suspicion made him think they had no weak spots. These firebenders were simply too well trained... Too well trained to be bested by a nonbender.

This feeling turned into grim reality when one of their Tribesmen got hit by a blast of fire, and fell to the ground, not moving.

Dad's face was drawn in rage. He wielded his battle axe, circling the firebenders with a vicious swing. With a clean cut, his axe sliced one firebender's hand off.

That was when the three remaining firebenders rounded on him. One of them had a straight jian sword, a double edged blade. This firebender directed his bending with his sword. He attacked with a flaming sword.

Sokka leapt forward, striking one soldier in his shin. The other Tribesmen attacked with their spears and kieries. Everyone screamed murderous battle cries. His heart was in his throat, smoke in his lungs as his cudgel collided with that soldier's shin. In the commotion, Sokka almost missed it. But from the corner of his eye he saw.

"Dad!"

That firebender, the one with the flaming sword, had chopped off Dad's right leg.

Dad staggered, hissing as he plummeted to his left knee.

Sokka dropped his weapon. "...Dad!"

The other Tribesmen converged on the firebenders like rabid wolves, ripping them to pieces. But Sokka had lost all the will to fight. Carefully he knelt by his father and held his head in his hands. There was so much blood...

"Dad," he sobbed.

His father smiled up at him. "Don't worry Sokka, it will be alright," he croaked, closing his eyes.

Sokka shook his head, tear drops falling on Dad's cheeks. "No, Dad, stay with me. Don't fall asleep now."

He couldn't, he shouldn't let him fall asleep. Sokka had read in one scroll of that wretched library, that when injured men were laid to rest, they often did not wake up. He would not let that happen. Not to his Dad, no way.

His father's breathing turned labored. He was losing so much blood...

Hastily Sokka placed his hand against the wound to stop the bleeding. But all that did was cover his own hand in his father's blood.

"Dad, no. ...Please,"

"Sokka," Dad opened his eyes. He smiled, stared up at him so peacefully...

"Dad!"

"You've done well Sokka. You will be a great Warrior one day."

"Dad no, this can't be the end. You've got to keep it together. For Bato. He's counting on you."

A sad look crossed his father's face. "I can tell when you lie to me Sokka."

"I, ...uh"

A chuckle, broken by rasping coughs. "Will you let Katara know that I love her? I would have loved to meet her, to see the person she grew into. Looking at you, I can tell she's wonderful."

Sokka hardened his face. "You can tell her yourself. This is not the end Dad, we will get you through this."

"Heh," a wheeze escaped Dad. "I admire your optimism."

Crackling white energy lit up the world as it came charging straight for Zuko. He held his breath and watched the lightning leave Azula's fingertips. It was unreal. He felt strangely detached, like he wasn't truly there. Like he saw it happen to someone else. All the fear and all the fight had left his body, replaced by an odd sense of calm. Peace. A tranquility that did not seem right for him, that did not feel like Zuko.

He shook himself. The words rang through him like a mantra.

"Never give up without a fight."

...and,

"Never forget who you are." That did it. His Mother's words combined with the words inscribed on the dagger Uncle had gifted him. The pearl dagger that had belonged to a General of the Earth Kingdom Army. The dagger his Uncle had stolen from the city of Ba Sing Se. Zuko winced. His whole family was embroiled in this pointless bloodshed, had caused it... even Uncle.

Zuko didn't know what to do. He could not in good conscience support either side of this war. He knew his Nation was wrong. What they were doing was heinous, and his country's crimes were many... Still at the same time, what he'd seen of the Earth Kingdom was not exactly a shining beacon of morality. This land was full of bullies and weasel snakes. The Dai Li had even gone and betrayed their own people.

This was not a side Zuko could join. If the Avatar agreed to fight alongside the corrupt and dishonorable Earth Kingdom, then Zuko would not be his teacher. He simply refused to get involved with these people, who would let a family starve if it meant supporting their military men. Who would sell out their own people for Azula's dubious promise of technological advancement and economic prosperity. Only one thing was clear to him: he had to stop Azula from taking over the city. He needed to atone for the sins of his family.

No matter what, he could not let Ba Sing Se be taken. His family had already taken more than enough from these people. It was time to give back.

Brows furrowed, he adjusted his stance till he had firmer footing on the roof beam. Zuko narrowed his eyes. If his sister thought he was weak, she was dead wrong. Zuko extended his right arm; hand open, palm up. He caught the lightning on his fingertips. Squeezed his eyes to slits, focus. His inner world was the most important part to performing this move. He focused all his thoughts on guiding this new energy he felt coursing through him.

"Create a pathway from your fingertips up your arm and to your shoulder. If you let the energy within your body flow, the lightning will follow."

It's what Uncle had said. The most vital part of this technique, however, was to redirect the stream of energy down to his stomach: his third chakra, the Fire chakra. Zuko rotated his wrist as his right arm moved steadily down. Left hand supporting his right elbow.

This was not, in fact, the technique his Uncle had taught him in its purest form. This was an adaptation. Zuko had slightly modified Uncle's technique so it better fit his own body. This was more... him. A more streamlined, faster paced version of the long traditional forms his Uncle had developed by studying waterbenders. And this was the first time Zuko's mastery of the technique was put to the test. For his Uncle had simply refused to bend lightning at him. So he had no practical experience performing this technique, only theoretic knowledge and muscle memory from weeks of dedicated practice.

He hoped it was enough.

As soon as his left hand reached his stomach, he bent his right arm at the elbow. With the elbow facing Azula. He set his teeth. Wondered if she had a good comeback to this. Then he snapped his right arm out, palm up, letting his chi flow up and out.

Lightning jetted out of his fingers, crackling in the dark and blinding white. The expression on his sister's face was one of stilled shock. Zuko smirked.

"What?" he threw at her. "Thought I spent these last two months idle?" his grin widened. "Then you don't know me too well, Sis."

The lightning reached her before she could dodge. She had already started leaping out of the way, but was a little too late. Lightning hit her in her side, and the fancy green dress she was wearing really did nothing to shield her from that. She crumpled, toppling over and grasping at her sides. A groan of pain escaped her lips.

Zuko frowned in concern; his smile fell, washed off in an instant, replaced by a flat line.

No, it... it couldn't be. His sister was too good for this. Surely she had another counter attack. She was a firebending prodigy, she would make it. Zuko reassured himself. She was only playing pretend, faking it so he would lower his guard, and... and...

Azula lost her balance on the roof beam.

Zuko's eyes went wide. He dashed forward just as his sister began tumbling down, rolling over the roof tiles. Zuko screamed.

"Azula!"

No.

No no no no no no no no no.

He caught up to her just as she was about to topple over the final ledge. Down on one knee, her limp back resting over his thigh. Her face stared up at him, eyes wide open.

Zuko gulped. "Hey," he said softly. "Azula?"

No response.

He bit his lip. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to... I... I never tried out this move, and I... uhh..."

The excuses tasted lame on his tongue. So he just stopped talking. He shook her shoulders, hoping to animate her cold face back into some sort of expression.

Nothing happened. Dead eyes stared back at him, showing no emotion. The unwanted realization seeped in that he had... he had... No, he simply couldn't have. Azula did not go down that easy.

But here she was, laying unmoving in his arms. Tears sprang to his eyes before he could stop them. They dropped down onto her green dress, ...the latest fashion for Earth Kingdom girls.

No!

Zuko shook his head, clawed at his heart that suddenly felt pangs of pain shoot through. What had he done? Why? And why had the Spirits not stopped him? Where was Goddess Orko when you needed her? Was this... this travesty his destiny? Had he always been meant to do this?

It simply couldn't be. Zuko felt wave after wave of newfound shame wash over him. He had hurt his sister. He had committed high treason. And he only had himself to blame.

Uncle warned him to stay out of this fight. He should have gone with Uncle then and there. He should have left when Uncle told him to run. Why had he stayed? Why had he challenged his own sister to a duel to the death? If anything, she was the innocent party in this. She had tried to de-escalate their fight. And he had thrown her offers of a truce back in her face.

Zuko turned his head up to the dark sky and howled out a cry of agony.

Who was he? What sort of monster... would aim to kill his own sister? What did Katara even see in him? Why had she offered him her friendship? When he was this pathetic piece of garbage, not even worthy enough of calling himself a human being.

He understood, now.

He understood why his Father had banished him. But it was a little too late. Azula was gone, the last possible heir to the throne reduced to a corpse. In one fell swoop, their Father had lost both his children.

Moving sluggishly Zuko reached for the pearl dagger hidden in the fold of his belt. He read its inscription once more, the wrong side, the one that village kid Lee had first spotted.

"Made in Earth Kingdom."

It was a fitting end that it should return to the Earth Kingdom, then. Zuko thought idly as he contemplated where he should cut into his belly. Below the belly button or above... He tried to remember the ancient texts he had read in the Caldera city library all those many years ago. The only thing he could recall quite clearly is that he ought to draw the blade from left to right when slicing his own belly open. He forgot the rest.

With closed eyes he said one last prayer to Pel, Rho and Orko. Then, opening his eyes he reached out gently and drew Azula's eyelids down as a curtain over her eyes.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, laying her body out to rest on the roof tiles.

As could be expected, she said nothing in return. She was no longer here. And that was okay. She would not have to witness what a disgrace her brother was, not have to see what he was about to do.

Zuko blinked the tears away, and crouched down beside her. He opened his gi further, revealing his flat toned belly. Under the light of the moon he brought his dagger close and softly set the blade against his skin.

He did not feel pain. Not yet, that is. And still the tears rolled over his face in rivers. In sadness over everything he failed, all the things he could have done, could have been, could have become. All the places he could have gone, the places this life could have taken him. He bit his lip. Man up. This was not the time to feel sorry for himself. He had to, he had to do this. This was the only way he could redeem himself. The last option left for him to restore his Honor. Then, maybe in a next life...

"Zuko!"

He blinked. The knife felt weak in his hand. A woman's voice kept calling his name, and for a moment he thought he was delusional, and hearing his own Mother's voice call for him, until he felt strong arms encircle him, and one hand claw a tight grip around his wrist: the hand that held the dagger. His fingers went slack and the dagger clattered to the ground. Well, so much for that...

He looked to his left and he saw Katara, crying on his shoulder. He stared at her in confusion.

...Why was she crying? Why was she giving him her warmth? Zuko was a monster. He had murdered his own sister in cold blood. He did not deserve this. So why... Why was she there for him?

"I'm so glad," she looked up at him with teary eyes. Both crying and smiling at the same time. "I'm so glad I got to you in time."

He frowned at her. "Katara, I..." Suddenly the Hara Kiri route felt like the coward's way out. An out from the consequences of his actions. He felt compelled to know about her. "What happened?" he said, twisting his lip. "Are you alright?"

A bitter smile was on her face. "General Goran and General Dawood came to the rescue. They're fighting the Dai Li together with your Uncle. General Kwak left to secure the Outer Wall. There were reports of some Dai Li trying to tear it down. The rest of the Council is still missing. We think the Dai Li might have abducted them, along with the Earth King, he's nowhere to be found."

Zuko smiled faintly. "I am glad to see you Katara," he admitted, softly.

Her eyes narrowed in concern. She looked him over once more, this time critically. "Zuko, what were you... about to do?"

He sighed, looking down at the roof tiles. "I never meant for this to happen. Believe me, I did not know that technique to redirect lightning could be so... deadly. I had never practiced it before, and I..." he didn't know how to end his sentence.

Katara looked over at Princess Azula's body. She winced. Zuko shuddered away from her. But she held on to him, not letting him escape.

"Zuko," she spoke strictly. "Zuko! Look at me."

He did. She seemed neither angry nor repulsed, but a strong sense of urgency was palpable in her countenance.

"Zuko this was an accident."

He shook his head. "Doesn't matter. That is not how Fire Nation law works. The courts won't see it that way. I committed high treason tonight, and Hara Kiri is the only means I have left to restore my Honor."

Her expression turned incredulous. "Zuko you're not in the Fire Nation."

"But I'm from the Fire Nation. You said it yourself. I can't just serve tea to people in Ba Sing Se, not after everything my Nation has put these people through. I have to do this, please understand. I'm only sorry that I didn't stop to say goodbye to you. Or help you in the fight against the Dai Li. I'm sorry that I just ran off like that. That was low of me. I don't know what I was thinking... But, now that you're here, ...thank you Katara. Thank you for everything you've done for me. You didn't have to, and yet you lent me a helping hand. You tried to help me even though I'm nothing but scum. You are so kind, and forgiving, and I'm glad to have known you, even for a small part of my dreadfully short and miserable life."

She slapped him. Hard, across the good side of his face.

Zuko blinked back tears then stared at her in shock. Now Katara looked really angry. He wondered what he had said to set her off.

"Snap out of it!" she yelled at him, the lines around her nose contorting as she got into his face, practically spitting the words at him. "You don't get to do this to me. I'm not letting you kill yourself Zuko."

He frowned. "That's not. This is not. Not what it's like. Katara you don't understand. I was not going to kill myself. Hara Kiri is a ritual. It's part of Fire Nation culture. You don't understand."

He had to get through to her. He was not suicidal. He didn't wish to die. But now that he had taken his sister's life, he had to own up to it. He wouldn't be much of a man, otherwise.

"Well then your culture is ass backwards."

Zuko blinked.

With a rage filled pout on her lips, Katara kept on talking. "There's plenty of things that are wrong with Water Tribe culture, things that I disagree with. But at least we don't make our young men kill themselves when they fail to live up to impossibly high standards."

"That's not what. It's not 'killing myself', you don't understand. Hara Kiri is a serious ritual, it's part of what it means to have Honor. And a man never goes back on his word, and I... I can't teach the Avatar firebending, even though I promised you I would."

"I don't care!"

Zuko stilled, frozen to silence by Katara's emotional outburst.

"I don't give an elephant rat's ass if you teach Aang firebending or not. I just don't want you to die." Tears slipped to her cheeks. "Not like this. Zuko you have shown me you can be a good person. I believe in you. Who cares about your stupid Fire Nation laws? It's the Fire Nation that is the problem, not you."

"But,"

"I'm not done yet."

"Okay..."

"You defended the Earth Kingdom against the threat of invasion. You stopped Princess Azula. Do you know what that means?"

Zuko shook his head warily.

"You are a hero," she told him earnestly. "You saved millions of people. You helped us save the city Zuko. You deserve praise, not punishment. I don't. I'm sorry I doubted you. Doubted your loyalty, doubted your reasons. In spite of everything, you chose good in the end. And that is what matters."

"You really think so?"

"Why would I say any of these things if I didn't think them true?" she scowled.

"Sorry, I... I don't mean to accuse you of lying. Just..."

Katara ran her fingers through his hair. Zuko stopped talking and frowned at her.

"When I... when I pictured the face of the enemy, I used to picture your face," she said.

"My face."

"Yes," she sounded rueful. "But that was before I knew... Before I knew what had happened to you." Her fingers paused at the edge of his scar, pushing his hair back to examine it more closely.

Zuko winced. Azula had told her, hadn't she? Had told Katara all about the shameful way he had gotten his scar: by giving up without even trying. He had disgraced both his Father and his country by making a mockery out of the Agni Kai. Groveling at his Father's feet like some pathetic wimp. Maybe, ...maybe if he had put up a fight... He sure had stood no chance of winning against the Fire Lord, but then... perhaps his reputation would not have been so heavily scarred, his Honor not completely disgraced. He would have simply looked like some foolish rebellious kid, not as a man who was without Honor.

Katara dug inside her robes, pulling another pendant from her neck. "This is water from the Spirit Oasis at the North Pole. It has special properties, so I have been saving it for something important." Her other hand cupped the side of his face, the scarred side. "I don't know if it would work, but... I want to try."

He looked at her puzzled. "Try what?"

"Healing your scar."

He gasped. "Katara, I... This is such an Honor. I don't know how to repay you for this, ..."

She smiled at him like he was being silly. The way his Mother would sometimes smile at him when he said something idiotic. Zuko frowned. He felt so lost. He did not deserve this... At the same time, it would be a big dishonor to reject her offer.

"You already have," she told him.

He started to get up from his uncomfortable crouching position, when a sudden jab of pain made him pause. Zuko winced, gritting his teeth to fight the sharp pulsing pain he felt in every fiber of his being.

Katara smiled sheepishly. "Though maybe I should first heal the rest of you. Sit still."

A fond smile was on her lips as she moved glowing water over his arms. Zuko let his back rest against the roof tiles. He stared up at the sky. The first signs of a new day were starting to glow on the horizon.

"Katara," he said.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. Thank you for everything. You don't even know how special you are."

"Well, ...I... uhhhh... hold still Zuko, I need to focus. This is a pretty deep wound."

He held his tongue and watched the sun rise.