Katara

Zuko made good on his promise of helping me cut the fabric; I took the pieces and straps to my tent and sewed them together making a manifold cape-like tunic. The upper part cascades from my shoulders down to my elbows, the secondary layer coils all of my arms till past my wrists, and fits around my waist in a form that makes it look like the robe is longer for reaching a bit below my knees. No one would spot Water Tribe clothes beneath it.

I am about to enter a Fire Nation ship as a Water Tribe spy… Or whatever charge takes care of entering, blowing things up, and getting out. (I should ask Sokka about that.)

I don't know how I'm feeling about all of it, it's a thrill… and also a weight. Like my necklace's pendant on my palm. It's an awareness that the War is here, right over me. Back at home, it was away, but we knew it was coming for us devouring the world piece by piece on its path. Yet now that I am at the center of it, I can testify it wasn't the War the one that reached me; I decided to step forward.

Yeah, it's definitely a thrill…

I go to meet the boys outside.

Tonight is a full moon night; perhaps that's not very helpful for a spy mission, but it makes me feel safer. More confident. The moonlight colors the night in silver, it makes me feel that I'm also part of it once I step outside, made of precious metal. Glowing, but unbreakable.

Sokka greets me at the stables. Kinda.

"C'mon, Katara, the fastest we leave, the less chances there are we're caught."

Good evening to you, too.

Zuko it's a bit more communicative. Which is… weird, right?

"I followed your advice and took the masks you picked up this morning," he tells me, passing me one of them. (It's the white one, the features of the face are the ones of a human woman, but it has red streaks and spirals outlining them.)

"It is inspired in a water spirit," Zuko explains. A little unprompted and awkwardly, like he thinks he must have a reason why he chose this specific mask for me. "A Spirit that guards a famous river in the Fire Nation, I thought you would like it…"

"Zuko," I say. "It's okay, this one is perfect. It's pretty."

He doesn't relax much, I think he is on the verge of shaking… but he stops rambling.

I'd be lying if I said all the effort he puts into these little things and talks isn't oddly nice. He is always thinking too much about everything, but because he worries for other people. He is that kind of person.

"You did a great job with the robe," he says.

"Thanks," my arm goes to rub the sleeve-envelope covering my arm.

"You changed your hairstyle, too."

My fingers then comb my ponytail over my shoulder. The corner of my mouth pinches my cheek in a smile. "Thanks again."

"Guys. Mission. Now," Sokka calls us out.

Zuko and I decide to ride on Druk while Aang and Sokka fly on Appa.

"Oh, right, I almost forgot." Sokka takes something out of the bag he packed. "Zuko, I made a new gauntlet for you to carry Hawky. If it can be called gauntlet at all. It doesn't cover your hand so it won't interfere with your bending, but it'll cover enough of your forearm for Hawky to stand there without clawing you."

The not-gauntlet is indeed a big patch of dark brown leather attached to a set of three belts. Zuko takes it and fits it around his left forearm.

"Hawky!" Zuko calls, and Hawky soars down smoothly until his feet touch the leather and his claws cling to it. "It is good. Thanks, Sokka."

"What was that?"

"Nothing," Zuko is quick to brush it off.

I cover the amused smile on my face with my hands.

It looks like Momo wants to join the fun, too.

"Sorry, Momo," Aang apologizes, taking him off from his head when he lands on top of it. "You have to stay here and cover for us."

"I dunno how a lemur is gonna do that," Sokka butts in, "but you do you, I guess."

"Momo, will distract anyone that comes check us," Aang indicates, and signals Momo to leave to take up his guard.

"Fine. Now the mission."

We hop on to our respective rides, Zuko pulls out the shackle that had Zhao's info and shows it to Hawky. "Hawky, takes us here," he commands.

Hawky takes off and flies away with a high-pitched cry.

I'm not sure how much time we've been flying. I wouldn't say they have been hours, (the night doesn't look that much different), but the anticipation and restlessness is making me feel like we've been out for days and this one is a different night than the one when we left.

Hawky is ahead of us, guiding us. The wind hits against my face, chilling my cheeks.

"Katara, are you nervous?" Zuko asks me from over his shoulder while I hold on to his waist atop of Druk's back.

"No," I say, "why do you ask?"

"You have been squeezing me too hard for a while now."

"Oh!… Sorry, I didn't realize it. I got… caught up with my thoughts."

He doesn't really answer to that, but his silence is companionable and inviting. He glances over his shoulder to check on me.

"It's very dangerous. What we are about to do," I go on. "I am not nervous, but we are going to…"

The end of my sentence, (whatever right words there were to describe it), dies away.

"Confront the Fire Nation?" Zuko finishes for me.

I remain quiet for a few more breaths, (and a few flaps of Druk's wings). My arms grip Zuko's core a bit tighter. "Yes. That."

Zuko is quiet, too.

"I know…" he trails off "… This probably isn't very reassuring, but… I won't let anything happen to you, and… if something does happen… if you feel bad… I will be there. Just… um… saying."

I arms tighten around him once more. "Thanks, Zuko. And thanks for… the vow of trust for me to be in this mission."

"No need to thank me."

But thanks anyway, I want to say.

We don't arrive at Zhao's pier until a while later. I can't say for sure without a compass… but I think we are farther into the south; this is the same direction we came from to get to the mountains.

Druk and Appa land in an isolated terrain at the shore, not in the dock, only close enough to get a clear view of the boats parked. More importantly, we can see if anyone walks by.

Hawky circles a significantly larger ship. It looks very different from the other ones parked aside from its size; the façade is flashier. Call me crazy, but it looks like it was designed to be intentionally presumptuous.

"That one is Zhao's," Zuko says.

His voice sounds… plain. But like he was crushing it himself to keep the emotion from coming out.

He calls Hawky back to our spot, and Sokka makes us repass the plan: "Remember, it's just getting in, and getting out. You don't have to go overboard with it, this isn't a game of payback. Find the machinery room, cut off the mechanism's calipers as quietly as you can, and get out of there like the devil was chasing you out."

Zuko and I nod.

"Hawky," Zuko says, "you, Druk, and Appa hide into the trees. If someone sees any of you, it would give our location away and Zhao would discover which one of his hawks found us."

He puts Hawky on top of Druk's head, since Druk's skin is only hard squamae, he doesn't mind Hawky's claws, so he lowers his head to make it easier for Zuko.

"Take care of Hawky, you hear that, Druk?" Zuko says, patting the two of them, "He is our responsibility now."

Druk nods with an affirmative grunt.

"And since we are talking about 'taking care' now…" Sokka butts in again. "You take care of my sister, would you, Zuko? She is mine (and now your) responsibility."

My brother's stare is intent, his eyes made of jagged, shattered ice. For once, all his face is completely serious and so cold it's unreadable, so unusual for his slaptastic self. And as much as I appreciate the feeling behind it all…

"Thanks, but I can take care of me," I say. "I am the one responsible for myself."

Zuko and I run through the shore covered by the trees and buildings. When we get to the docks, we circle each one of the boats using the shadows for further hiding – (we have to move very close to the edge, so close that either of us could fall with a false step) – until we get to Zhao's.

"We have to go up," Zuko indicates, looking to the upper border on the deck.

"Can you take us with your firebending?"

"Not that high."

"What about your stunts?"

"I think I could, but I don't have anything to gain impulse."

I look down at the water from the edge of the pier.

Then I put my hand forward and imagine myself physically yanking the waves upwards, feeling them in a tangible yet still fluent state in which I could reach, hold them, extend them, and throw them up. I picture that solidness while envisioning the water's particles, I see them changing to form the consistency I want… And I throw my arm up, making them follow. I freeze them glued to the outside of the ship before they can fall back into the ocean.

"Okay," I pant, (the mental effort I need to do these things takes too much energy), "Now we have a ramp. That's something."

It gets to only a little above the pier's stage… but it is something!

"Are you okay?" Zuko wonders from behind my back.

"Yeah." My breath keeps coming out heavy and dry. It feels hot when it bounces against my mask. "Fine."

"Um… It is… a very good ramp. Thanks. Should… Should I carry you for getting us up? Like the other time."

"I think that's the only way to go."

"Weren't you afraid of it?" Zuko asks, already putting his hands on my back.

"I trust you," I say once he lifts me.

He makes us run over the ramp and once he gets to the end of it, he jumps to the immense chain-links keeping the ship from floating aimlessly. The wind hits and brushes my face much strongly and fast than when we were flying, I get the feeling my cheeks are going to freeze off in every other blink. This isn't flying, it is much wilder and reckless, but my fear is leveled because I meant what I said. I trust Zuko.

It surprises me how stealthy he is when he steps on the deck.

"This way," Zuko points right after he sets me down.

We approach one of the entrances to the inner quarters, Zuko uses a fire dagger to slash the bolt and open the door without making any noise. He makes it look like it had was never opened once we get inside.

"Don't you think there are too many decorations for a military ship?"

"This was designed for the royal family's use," Zuko says, "You can tell for the overuse of gold."

"Oh." I half-cover my mouth, side-eyeing Zuko. "But then why is Zhao the one in charge of it?"

"For all that we know, he is under the direct orders of the Fire Nation royal family."

I stay quiet for a while. "So we are in trouble."

Zuko doesn't hesitate. (Or sugarcoats it.) "Yes. Come on, we have to get out of here fast."

He drags me by my hand down the corridor.

"Someone is coming," he warns, already opening one of the cabins. We hide behind the door, attentive to the heavy, metallic footsteps and gruff voices and laughs at the other side. The soldiers are complaining and joking about the 'so-called' mission to capture the Avatar.

They sound skeptical. At best.

I would like to laugh at how much respect Zhao is capable of inspiring in his men.

The soldiers leave and Zuko and I get out in our search for the machinery room. We have to go down rows of stairs to the deepest parts of the ship, avoiding more soldiers in our way. It's dark in here, the only illumination are a few faint red lamps that look more like emergency alerts.

The apprehension the thought awakens tightens my stomach. What if that is a sign?

These corridors are also lonely and narrow. They remind me of a giant rattrap.

"Someone is coming again," Zuko says, and pushes us to enter yet another room.

"Whoa," I exclaim. Involuntarily. It's just that…

… this room…

… it has so much royal family paraphernalia. There are portraits of the many generations of Fire Lords in the walls, arranged in line. The last one is… "Zuko, look."

He follows my eyes to the picture in the middle of the rather big room – too much even for a sleeping compartment – the portrait is the last one, so it is the one of the current Fire Lord. We come closer to it and take off our masks to read the inscription:

おざい

Ozai.

Fire Lord Ozai.

That should be enough for getting to know our enemy, but…

His face…

It is Zuko's.

It is the same face as Zuko's: every line, every feature, with the same skin and same eyes. (Save for the scar, that's the only thing differencing them.)

Zuko's hand flies to the right side of his face – the unscarred one – I can see it has the same outline as the one of the Fire Lord's profile. I can see the Fire Lord in him.

An awful, uncontrollable feeling of rejection, a lack of air as if I was choking, crushes my core at the sight of Zuko. I used to think he was handsome, but now I… I can see all those years of suffering and destruction just by looking at his face. I can see the War, the fire, the injustice, the evilness behind it all.

Without knowing how, my feet step away. This feeling… I can't bear it, I can't be near Zuko.

His hand is still studying his own face, covering the right side as if he was trying to erase it. Even his other hand comes to his left profile, because if it wasn't for his scar… he would be exactly like the Fire Lord Ozai.

I think I am getting sick.

There are steps outside the door, approaching it.

"Oh, no!"

"We have to run!" Zuko clasps my hand, and I think it is then when he realizes there is nowhere to run. The door is being opened, its squeak deafens us.

The strange light makes it look like there are cage bars reflecting in his eyes. Maybe that is at what he stares at in mine, too.

We are trapped. This was a rattrap.

"Well, well. What a pleasant surprise to have visitors tonight."