Chapter 6: Not So Different

As the next two days on the raft passed by, Katara closely abided her decision not to talk to Iroh and Zuko. She slept, woke up, worked with Iroh to make drinkable water, and would catch fish which Zuko would then cook for them. She didn't talk to them, unless it was something important. They worked out their dynamics, how they'd work together to survive, and that was all they needed. Katara didn't need to talk to them.

Zuko seemed to have made the same decision−or maybe, Katara considered, he really was just unsocial. It was kind of odd to think of the angry prince as taciturn or quiet, but he spent most of his time on his side of the raft. At least he's not complaining, Katara reflected. After their first day of near-constant fighting, he hadn't really said anything to her. He would just come over and cook whatever Katara had caught, thank her for the fish, usually frowning the whole time, and then silently go back to his side of the raft. And that was fine with Katara. If she was doomed to be stuck with him, at least he was staying out of her way. She would occasionally notice him looking at her; he'd immediately turn away if she caught him. She only bothered to say anything about it twice.

The first time, Zuko had gotten upset again.

"Why are you staring at me?" Katara had snapped.

Zuko was, of course, scowling. "What?! I'm not staring at you!" He folded his arms.

"I just saw you!" She glared at him, meeting his gold eyes challengingly.

"Why would I want to stare at you, peasant?"

At that point, Iroh had intervened.

The second time Katara said anything, Zuko got upset again, but this time he had turned it around onto Katara.

"Quit staring at me!"

"Me?! You've been staring at me! You think I don't notice?" His voice rang with defiant indignation.

Katara blushed. "I-what else am I supposed to look at? We haven't exactly got the most diverse view, you know!" She waved her hand to the expansive ocean, which was just as endless as it had been the day before.

The Fire Nation prince scowled deeper. "So it's okay for you to stare at me because you've got nothing better to do, but not for me to do the same?"

At that point, Katara had just turned away from him. She reminded herself not to talk to him.

Iroh was another story. The Firelord's brother was as oddly friendly as ever. Whereas his nephew had turned to sulking and steaming on one side of the raft, he remained cheerful, and would continue to try and initiate conversation with both of them. He spent more time with Zuko, thankfully. Katara would sometimes observe them. They seem close, she thought. The more she saw of them, the more she realized just how close. Angry as Zuko was, he showed another side when he was talking to his uncle. He would still be frowning, and Katara could hear the complaint in his voice, even if he tried to speak quietly. But he would actually talk to his uncle. And he seemed to value what his uncle had to say−whereas Katara would thank Zuko for cooking the fish and be done with it, Iroh would tell him what he'd done well, and what he needed to work on. And while the prince would always look disappointed when his uncle told him what needed improvement, he also looked the closest to happy when Iroh praised him.

Yes, Katara thought. It's a good thing he's here, too.

But it also made it that much harder not to talk to them.

After Iroh would talk to Zuko, he would come to Katara's side of the raft and try to initiate a conversation with her. She would try to shut down the conversation, but in truth, it was hard. Iroh would come over offering a smile, asking if she was okay, and when Katara would try to shut him out, the old man would just look so disappointed. It sort of stung−it just wasn't in Katara's nature to upset people. She'd feel guilty every time his smile slipped, but she'd find a new way to occupy herself, and she'd move on.

Eventually, though, she had to admit defeat.

By the fourth day, the silence was unbearable.

Katara had never considered herself to be particularly extroverted. True, she would often be the first to go up to new faces, the first to shout "Hi!" and eager to make new friends, but she had never needed to speak. She was alright with silence and when it seemed that nobody wanted to talk, that was fine with Katara. Sometimes, she needed peace and quiet, too, and she hadn't ever really felt a large need to converse. But then, she had never actually tried to go days without talking to people. Spirits, she missed Sokka and Aang. The fact that they were probably missing her only made the matter worse. She wanted to be with them, to tell them that she's okay, to talk to and just be with. She'd even be happy to wash Sokka's clothes. And she was even starting to miss Aang's marble trick, silly as it was.

As awkward as it was to be stuck with two enemies, Katara was starting to find it even more awkward to ignore them.

When Iroh came over to Katara to create fresh water again, he asked, as he always did, if she was alright.

Katara gave a small shrug as she bent the water. Two balls, one of salt water, and one of fresh water, which she was constantly taking from the air. She was improving, she noted with satisfaction. Whereas she could only take back a small fraction of the vaporized water on the first day, now she was able to take more and more back into liquid form. It was becoming much easier to do the whole process; the first time she and Iroh had done this, Katara had struggled to juggle the many things she was doing. Holding the ball of salt water, taking the water from the air, and holding the fresh water, all with two hands. She had barely managed it, and it had taken all of her concentration. The water was more blob than ball, and would frequently ripple and drip. But after three days of practice, she was finding that the process was becoming much easier. She was able to take the water from the air without severely disturbing the fresh water she was holding, and the sea water was almost completely unaffected by what she did with her other hand. Even Master Pakku would have to be impressed, Katara thought.

It seemed her waterbending training was still going on.

"I'm alive," she answered Iroh. It wasn't "I'm okay" or "My life sucks right now." She wasn't okay. She felt lonely, even though she wasn't alone. But she was alive, and with life, came hope. We may be surrounded by ocean right now, but we may find land, or be rescued.

Iroh gave a small "Hm" in acknowledgement of Katara's response. Every other time he had asked her how she was, she'd given him a bland response and stopped talking. He'd only look disappointed before moving on. He seemed to expect her to do the same now, but Katara was lonely, and despite her previous resolution to not speak to her raft-mates, she found that she needed some human interaction before she went crazy.

"What about you?" she asked him. "Are you alright?" Iroh smiled, and Katara had to admit, she was glad to see the old general smiling again.

"I am well enough," he told her. "I do wish I had brought some tea leaves. I've gone far too long without any!" Katara laughed; of all the things wrong with their situation, he was most upset at the lack of tea? "When we find land, I'll have to make you a cup. I've had much experience with making tea, and I know how to bring out the best flavors." He smiled at her. "Making you a good cup of tea will be the least I can do for all you've done."

Despite her own view on the matter, Katara smiled back. "I'm just doing my part to survive this." And if they did survive, she doubted that she'd be sparing time to drink tea with Iroh. She'd have to track down Aang and Sokka. While she'd certainly hope they'd still be at the North Pole, the longer it was before she was on land again, the less likely they were to be there. After all, they had a time limit. Aang had to master all the elements before Sozin's Comet; he couldn't stick around the North Pole for long. He'd have to make his way back to the Earth Kingdom. They had discussed the possibility of going back to Omashu and getting Bumi to train him. If I ever get back to land, Katara decided, I'm going to Omashu. Even if Aang isn't there yet, maybe I can just wait for him.

"This isn't the best of circumstances, I know," Iroh spoke again. "But the view isn't that bad."

Katara raised her eyebrow. "We're surrounded by the ocean. We have been for the past week, and will continue to be for who knows how long. Even a waterbender finds that view sort of dull after a while."

"Hmm," Iroh nodded. "But the clouds are different every day. And we have a better view of the sunrise and sunset than nearly anyone else in the world."

Katara smiled as she let out a breath. "I suppose that's true," she acknowledged. They worked together for a few more minutes in silence. This silence, though, was more companionable than the silence of the last two days. It was comfortable, and after a few minutes, a thought occurred to Katara. "What happened to your ship and your crew? Were they…at the North Pole?" If they were, Katara realized, then they were almost undoubtedly dead.

Iroh nodded grimly, no longer smiling. "The crew was assimilated into Admiral Zhao's fleet before the invasion. They were there." The old general sighed, shaking his head sadly, and he looked much older than he had minutes before.

"Will you miss them?" As soon as the words left Katara's mouth, she realized how ridiculous they were; Iroh was so friendly, and had spent much time with them. Of course he'd miss them.

"I will," Iroh confirmed. "I spent three years on that ship with them. I spoke to them, ate with them. We enjoyed music nights together and would regularly speak about our homes, our families." Iroh closed his eyes. "Most of them, thankfully, didn't have spouses, or children. But those that did…my pain is nothing to what they will feel."

Katara looked away from Iroh, looking at the growing ball of fresh water. She had never really thought about the Fire Nation's side of the story. The war was wrong, the Firelord was evil, and needed to be stopped, but she had never paused to think about the Fire Nation's soldiers. Their wives and children. Each Earth Kingdom town saved, each victory we gain, is a loss to some Fire Nation family, Katara realized. I lost my mother to a firebender…how many firebenders have lost their mothers and fathers to the war?

The silence lasted only a moment as Katara processed this reality. Only a moment, but it was sickening. "I'm sorry for their loss," Katara said quietly. This war is giving everyone grief. That's why we all need the Avatar. "Does Zuko miss his crew? On a personal level, I mean. Not just for doing chores."

Iroh sighed, looking over to his nephew, who was sitting on the other side of the raft. He was looking away from them, and Katara hoped that he hadn't heard her mention him. Talking to Iroh was easy, almost normal despite their respective loyalties, but talking to Zuko was another thing altogether. "My nephew would never admit to feeling the pain of their loss," Iroh told her. "But I do believe he feels it. After all, they were the only people he really interacted with for three years. Even though he never tried to socialize with them, or even tried to be friendly, I do believe that Zuko misses them." Iroh stopped for a moment, and his mouth became thin, his eyes narrowed. "I told Zhao not to trifle with the spirits. I warned him."

"Thanks," Katara said suddenly. "I remember, you tried to get him to let the Moon Spirit go. Thanks for trying."

Iroh nodded. "I had to. The world is already out of balance…but for the Moon Spirit to be killed would have been a point of no return. All would have suffered." Katara nodded in agreement. It wouldn't be for some time later that she stopped to think about how the Firelord's brother just admitted that the world was out of balance, and just what the implications were.

"So…I suppose Zhao would have been killed in the wave, right?" Katara had just thought of it. It would, at least, lend some justification to the situation she was in. At least then, the wave that left her stranded in the middle of the ocean would have achieved something.

Iroh however shook his head. "The Ocean Spirit was furious. After La destroyed the fleet, he returned to the city. He found Zhao and took him into the water…Zhao will never be seen in this world again…I doubt his fate was pleasant."

Katara shivered, thinking of what the crazy Admiral's fate may have been. She was glad to hear that he was gone; the man had been a lunatic, and had endangered the whole world. Still, the spirits were undoubtedly angry, and whatever awaited the man would probably be one of the worst punishments the spirits could inflict. "So, you saw him being taken?"

"No," Iroh told her. "Zuko did, and he told me about what happened while we waited for you to wake up." Iroh's smile returned, and he once again became the genial old man. "You should ask Zuko to tell you about it. It's quite the story, even if Zuko's storytelling skills could use some work."

Katara laughed, but it wasn't a happy sound. "I'm sorry, but I think we've already established that Zuko and I shouldn't talk to each other. All we do is make each other angry, and I don't feel like making you play mediator any more than you have to."

Iroh gave a small shrug, still smiling. "Perhaps. But I think the two of you could get along quite well, if you gave each other a chance. In all honesty, you're actually not so different from him."

Katara's eyes widened, and she then she scowled, dropping the water she'd been holding up. "Hey! I'm nothing like Zuko!" she shouted indignantly.

Iroh's mouth twitched as he continued smiling. Katara just glared at him for a moment, wondering what he found so funny. Had she been paying attention, she'd have noticed that Zuko was now staring at them, listening to their conversation with disbelief. Slowly, Katara realized what it was that Iroh found so amusing. "Alright, fine. I just acted like Zuko. But I assure you, our similarities end there."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Iroh told her. "And you won't know unless you try to talk to him. I think you may be surprised." Katara continued to frown. Zuko's just a big firebending jerk, she thought. Iroh continued, "If nothing else, I think it could do Zuko some good to spend time with someone closer to his own age."

Katara blinked. "How old is Zuko?"

"He turned sixteen earlier this year." Iroh was smiling fondly.

Katara blinked again. Zuko was sixteen? She had never consciously thought about how old Zuko was. She knew he was young, and she could remember the first time she'd seen him.

"You're just a child!"

"Well, you're just a teenager."

Somehow, though, she hadn't ever really processed this. She looked over to where Zuko was sitting. He was looking their way, and Katara realized that he'd probably heard at least part of their conversation. He met her eyes for a brief moment, before turning away to glare into the distance. She had a perfect view of his unscarred side, and from there she could see how old he was. Huh. He really isn't much older than Sokka. She supposed his hairstyle, combined with his constant scowling, had been what obscured his age.

"My nephew hasn't spoken to anyone his own age in nearly three years," Iroh told her. "I do think it would help him."

"Maybe," Katara said. "But all he and I do is argue. That's not helping anyone."

"But perhaps if you do speak to him," Iroh pointed out. "Then you and he could learn to speak without arguing. We don't know how long we will remain adrift. Do you really think you and he can continue ignoring each other?" Katara frowned. It was awkward. But would trying to talk to him be any less so? Katara looked over to the teenage prince again.

Katara gave a small sigh. "I dropped the water we collected earlier," she said, changing the subject. She pulled some of the water she'd dropped from the raft, and pulled another ball of salt water. "We'll have to start again."

She and Iroh set back to work on making drinkable water, talking about a variety of harmless subjects. Iroh, she learned, loved tea, and could name a million different plants to make tea with. Eventually, they finished, and after they drank their shares of water, she got up and went over to Zuko. The prince sat alone on his side of the draft, as he usually did, looking out at the ocean. Katara almost wondered what went through his mind as he stared across the endless water.

"Here," she offered. Zuko turned to her, and drank the water while she waited and bent the water to his mouth. She sat near him…not close, but close enough to talk.

After Zuko finished drinking, he looked to her. He wasn't glaring, at least. "Thank you," he said. It was awkward, and quiet, but it gave Katara courage to speak to him.

"You're welcome." She waited for a few more moments, trying to think of what she could possibly talk to him about. "Your uncle told me to ask you about Zhao." Zuko scowled again. "He said you saw him being taken by the Ocean Spirit. Could you tell me about it?"

Zuko continued to scowl, and Katara wondered if he'd just ignore her, or blow up at her. "I fought Zhao," Zuko finally said. "At the North Pole, I fought him."

Katara raised an eyebrow. But then, was it so surprising? As obsessed as Zuko was with capturing Aang, maybe even he saw the madness in killing the moon. "Why would you fight Zhao? He was on your side, wasn't he?"

"Zhao has never been on my side!" Zuko snapped. "He has always hated me−even as a child. I don't know what I ever did to him, but he has always taken every chance he's had to spite me. Don't you remember what happened at the temple?"

Katara thought back. "Roku's temple? Zhao tied you up, didn't he?" That was strange, now that she thought about it. Tying up a prince of your own nation?

Zuko nodded. "When I saw him at the North Pole, I couldn't possibly turn away from that fight. And it was my right, after he tried to have me killed." Zuko was gritting his teeth.

Katara's eyebrows rose. "He tried to kill you? When was this?" And what had Zhao been thinking? Did he figure the Firelord would thank him for killing his son?

Now Zuko was glaring at her. "Pirates," he told her. "I never would have met them if you hadn't stolen that scroll!"

"What?!" What was he getting upset at her for−and when did the conversation turn to those pirates? That had been ages ago!

"Zhao hired those same pirates to kill me," Zuko told her. "I wouldn't have met them in the first place if it weren't for you!"

"So now it's my fault they tried to kill you?" she said, frowning incredulously. "You're the one that decided to work with them, and then attack them!"

They glared at each other for a moment. I knew this was a bad idea. But then they turned away from each other. After a few moments, Zuko began speaking again. "They snuck onto the ship after Zhao took my crew. The planted a bunch of explosives and blew up the whole ship." Katara listened, shivering slightly as she remembered those pirates. "It didn't work," Zuko concluded.

Katara sniggered a bit. "Obviously." Zuko glared at her again, but she didn't return it this time. "So…when you saw Zhao at the North Pole, you attacked him to get revenge for trying to kill you?"

"I was well within my rights to kill him for what he did." Zuko frowned. "The Ocean Spirit got in the way."

"So…if the Ocean Spirit hadn't killed him, then you would have?" she clarified.

Zuko was quiet for a long moment before he continued. "When it grabbed Zhao, I offered my hand to Zhao. I asked him to take it, so I could…save him. But he refused. He chose to die rather than be indebted to me." It became silent after that. Katara's eyes widened. Zuko tried to save Zhao? Even after the man tried to kill him? It was…certainly an interesting story to hear. In fact, as Katara thought about it, it sounded like something that belonged in her tribe's legends. She could almost hear her tribe's elders telling the story to eager children, a story of cruelty, vengeance, and, ultimately, mercy. But the truly odd part was…Zuko would be the hero of the story. It was…amazing, strange, and unexpected. Katara opened her mouth to ask…something. Why Zuko had done it, who had been winning the fight when La interrupted, something, but she could see that Zuko was consumed by his own thoughts. He was staring out at the ocean once more. Katara excused herself, still contemplating her (actually civil) conversation with Zuko as she used her waterbending to catch fish.

And perhaps later, when they ate the fish, her thank-you to Zuko may have been just a little bit warmer.

Still very early in the Zutara progression. I promise you, this will develop...it may just take a bit of time before this actually turns romantic.