Disgraced and exiled. Zuko should've expected it. But a part of him refused to believe what was clearly in front of him all along. He had hoped that Ozai cared for his son. That underneath that cruel militaristic demeanor was a portion of humanity. No. For his entire life Zuko had tried to be the perfect soldier for the Fire Lord –but he was numbed by failure after failure, chipping away his confidence and replacing it with an everlasting self-hatred. Zuko lead successful raids before in the water tribe and in some air nomad temples but he could never be as sadistic as Azula and kill the defenseless. He spared one too many people and for that the prince paid the ultimate price. Uncle Iroh was banished alongside him for the same reason.
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Being forever branded as a failure…it stings as much as the scar does. Exchanging luxury and expensive robes for weathered clothes and a few coins they leave for Ba Sing Se. At least here in the masses it'd be easier to hide from Azula, who promised to annihilate any disappointments from the family line.
Living around the downtrodden, poor, injured, and desperate really gave Zuko perspective. Unlike what he believed since birth, the Fire Nation isn't some shiny utopia model for the rest of the world. Hundreds of thousands of people from every nation, rank, and status arrive in the city. Their lives were changed, marked as Zuko had been literally and metaphorically, by the Fire Nation. Though he quickly notices how they are all trapped here to dwell their whole sad lives in the lower ring of the city. It's nothing like where the aristocrats live.
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Iroh doesn't mind. In fact he's acting like he's on vacation. He vibrantly puts all his efforts into a newly purchased tea shop. Even the snobby upper class descend to the lower ring to sip on Iroh's painstakingly crafted tea. It's morbidly funny to Zuko seeing sleek and polished metal cars parked by wooden carts.
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When Zuko isn't helping his uncle at the tea shop he is one of the workers who assemble those fancy cars. That and he also builds other goods sold at jaw-dropping prices. Smog clogs the air yet does nothing to muffle the sounds of hammers and other tools. The sounds are deafening and Zuko often returns home with his ears ringing. It wasn't being a soldier, something he somewhat missed, but the work paid enough for another meal. The portions are smaller but somehow, the ex-prince found that comforting. In such a cramped space you really get to know and care about those around you. He had never felt a sense of family back in the palace.
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Everybody warily eyes Zuko. Whispers fall from their lips as they worked. They all guessed that he was attacked by the Fire Nation from his glaring scar. He doesn't waste time correcting them. People hate the Fire Nation and who the hell would believe he was the prince? Best not draw attention to yourself. Especially with all the muscular, experienced, gruff-looking people.
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Zuko is a productive worker. The others are constantly hindered by the heat or worn-out tools. Zuko would meld parts together seamlessly with his firebending, after making sure no one was looking at him. Over time he learned a new technique not centered on combat. He mimicked and perfected the blow torch. Sparks never hurt him and anyone born of Fire Nation blood had a stronger resistance to burns –except for another firebender's fire. He propped up his goggles on his cap and turned the work over in his hands inspecting for any inadequacies before letting it move down the line.
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Further along he can see the almost-complete frames of cars. He scoffs at the quality. All the vehicles look pretty but they are just mere chunks of metal lacking grit or substance. In the Fire Nation machines were built for war, sturdy and powerful. Like the tanks, blimps, and flamethrower mechs. He wishes he could have piloted one but they had been in the prototype stages when he had been banished. Ba Sing Se has a network of train systems but that was the only other thing of technological advancement besides cars. And despite his exile, Zuko is proud of the Fire Nation's scientific prowess. They had been the first to build flying machines, finally matching the grace and elegance Air Nomads have when flying. It took tenacity and genius to craft such things.
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With a pang of emptiness in his heart Zuko realized he missed flying. Would he ever feel exhilarating freedom soaring through the endless sky again? Up there he was not the prince or an exile, he was just Zuko. Down on earth, everything is so miserable and bleak. War, famine, and selfishness scar even the strongest optimism.
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Zuko froze mid-step from walking home when seeing human-shaped shadows dash across a wall. From their outlines he can tell they are Dai Li agents. Spineless thugs dressed in suits. The Dai Li have vicious resentment for anyone in their way. Zuko isn't sure exactly what their job is, but he knows it isn't any good. They usually hang up posters about being a good, loyal, and useful worker in the city. The same type of propaganda he had seen growing up in the Fire Nation. He decides to follow them.
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Up on a roof he spies the agents. The Dai Li confront a woman clad in feminine blue water tribe robes.
"What's someone from the Water Tribes doing in Ba Sing Se?" The agent's question is supposed to sound merely curious but there is a hint of threat in his tone. "They usually don't travel far from the cold floats. They are flanked by a fleet of Fire Nation ships."
"Yes, weren't most women imprisoned by the Fire Nation?"
"If you give us some money we'll leave."
"I have an invitation to pass into the highest ring of Ba Sing Se. I am friends with the daughter of the Beifong family."
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The Dai Li chuckled sinisterly. "The Beifongs never invite anybody from the lower rings. This is your last warning. Give us money or we can trade you for some Fire Nation wealth."
"I don't have any," the girl fired back. Her once-calm voice became serrated.
"The necklace then. It'll sell well on the market."
"What?"
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She visibly tensed. A fight is going to break out. Zuko luckily slipped down a corridor earlier while following the Dai Li to change into the Blue Spirit. Unsheathing his twin swords he anxiously waits to move.
Stone hands go flying and he jumps –and is surprised to find out that the woman is a waterbender. Most had been slaughtered when war had been declared. The stone hands disintegrate in a wave of water. In a flash the girl runs down the confusing backstreets of Ba Sing Se. Zuko pursues the agents' shadows.
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The brown-haired water tribe girl manages to fend off two agents with quick footing and witty attacks. Icicles hanging in the air before plummeting, forcing the Dai Li to deal with that misdirection. She even slicked the ground with a mixture of ice and water, and it successfully bought her seconds to her escape. The Dai Li just ran across the confined walls after stumbling comically. The woman is eventually cornered again.
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Zuko disarms one in a heartbeat. The other screams as two severed hands drop on the ground. The girl sends sweeping crescents of ice and traps the rest from moving at all. She and Zuko run and vanish in a crowded network of markets and old crumbling architecture.
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Upon closer viewing, her beauty steals Zuko's breath. And her voice is warm like sun-kissed skin. Her brown hair is cut short in a masculine style (a water tribe warrior's traditional haircut if Zuko remembered correctly), and she carried a fighter's posture as they slowed their pace to a brisk walk. This woman has seen some gruesome days in a battlefield.
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Don't get distracted! His brain scolded him. What if she's a double agent or an actor for the Dai Li? People will play both sides for some extra coin. She could sell me out.
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"I'm Katara. Thanks for saving me. May I see my hero's face?"
Zuko hastily shook his head. He patted his uniform for a pen and paper. He always had one from working long hours at the tea shop as a waiter. He wrote down a poem, one that she'd have to decipher if she wanted to know who the masked man is. Katara read the paper and nodded. They departed soundlessly into the winding stone streets, thankful that the Dai Li had given up on their chase.
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It's a slow day at the tea shop. Zuko is drying dishes and humming. Uncle Iroh, the wisest and most vigilant, smiled amusedly. "You're more upbeat than usual, nephew."
"No I'm not!" He fired back with a glare.
"Perhaps a pretty lady has caught your eye? Oh my nephew is growing up so fast!" Iroh wiped away an invisible tear from his eye. "I think it'll be good for you. You deserve to be happy –and not so angry all the time."
"I'm not angry all the time!"
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A bell jingled signaling another visitor. Katara. Zuko nearly dropped the plate and Iroh merely smiled. "Well? Go talk to her! The cabbages never sell if there's no merchant manning the cart."
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Zuko cleared his throat, hoping his voice didn't betray his nervousness. "Morning. What would you like?"
Katara's blue eyes shine sweetly. She ordered some pastries and some tea to go.
Iroh's eyebrows jumped up in surprise. "Water tribe currency! What a rare find. I thought all of it had been horded by the Fire Nation. Oh, and here's this." He waved the ticket around and Zuko grabbed it to find a message scrawled out on the bottom.
Would the prettiest waiter go with me on a night out in town? Meet me on the Blue Flora House at 9pm.
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Night's crisp wind and glimmering starlight gave Zuko serenity as he searched for the blue roof. Katara is sitting atop the stark blue florist shop, perched gracefully like royalty. The man scaled up to the roof and gifted what he hopes is a sweet gesture. Flowers that resembled the Water Tribe (or so he was half certain, since he couldn't study any customs because he was burning down their towns).
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"Thank you, I love them!" Katara weaved them in her thick brown locks. They matched her cute but elegant long blue dress and polished shoes. Flecks of blue stone and white wolfhawk fur drape around her shoulders in a shawl. He expected her to recoil in stunned disgust at his ugly scar and he nearly sputtered at her words.
"You look really handsome, you know?" She laughed. "You're a lot more interesting than most people who live in Ba Sing Se. And you're a vigilante. What's your name?"
"Lee."
"Lee?"
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The ex-prince paled. Katara eyed him cynically but didn't ask about his true, harrowing identity.
"I…never see anyone from the Water Tribes in Ba Sing Se. Can I ask why?"
Her gaze landed on the looming stone walls which obscured half the beautiful sky. Stone gears kept turning, powering various devices within the ancient city. "I was banished from my tribe."
Zuko's eyes widened.
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"My dad and brother got drafted into the war when the Fire Nation attacked. All men did. I didn't want to just be a healer so I joined the army too."
"But there aren't any women in the Water Tribe army –or so I've heard."
Katara nodded sadly. "Women are forbidden to fight. They can't be in the front lines and can only learn healing. I am the only waterbender of a small tribe and I felt that because of that I had to do something. I didn't want my father or brother to die. So I dressed like a man and decided to fight. I did okay until I was hurt on a Fire Nation ship we were trying to capture. I was bleeding out and I was discovered. Dad and Sokka tried to convince the others for me to stay but I was dragged out and banished."
"Oh," Zuko felt a cold pit of empathy in his chest for her. "That's rough."
"It isn't so bad. Well, it sucked at first. I don't know if my family is okay but I got to travel. And meet you."
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He didn't think anyone else could understand his pain. Zuko absentmindedly swayed his legs over the rooftop. "I'm an exile too. My uncle and I."
"Because of the war?"
"Half of it, yeah." The ex-prince's face became stern. "I…failed my fa-general. I went against orders. I refused to kill people. They…were already captured and disarmed. I know war is ugly and people will do anything necessary to kill their enemy but I just couldn't listen to orders. Then I…" a bone-chilling pang lashed at Zuko's senses. He's never talked about the painful day to anyone. The day he went against his father thinking he was doing the right thing, only to get hurt in an Agni Kai. "The general was going to sacrifice our men to win. And I spoke out and paid for it."
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Golden eyes glisten with fresh tears. Zuko used all his strength to fight the devastating sadness. Katara didn't mock him like Azula always did, didn't stare at him with pity like Mai, her kindhearted eyes gleam with empathy.
"It sucks when fate decides your course…"
"Yeah."
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Wanting to dispel the moody atmosphere, Katara grabbed Zuko's hand and pulled him up. "Let's go see the city!"
He's surprised. Is there anything fun to do in the dingy lower ring?
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Street performers march down the road. They aren't as strict and artsy like in Fire Nation but it is creative. Many have tattoos and unique instruments. The crowd dances along to their own beat. Katara started a Water Tribe dance and though Zuko was shy about looking silly he too joined her.
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Aimlessly they wandered. The couple stops at some snack booths and sample street food. They walked on some balconies, catching a vibrant view of city lights throughout. Zuko and Katara's hands were interlinked for a time, their arms gently swaying. Zuko doesn't remember the last time he's been this happy…
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Insulting laughter draws Zuko's attention. A group of guys passed by with cruel smiles and judging eyes. "How'd a beautiful girl end up with a guy like him?"
"That scar is ugly."
"Not only that –look how rugged he is. Probably some homeless freak."
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Rage ignites throughout his body. Zuko's dragged back to the time where the other kids and some servants would laugh at his unfortunate loss, at his new burn. The laughter is agonizing and cuts worse than a sharpened blade to flesh.
But like a fresh breath of air his mind disassembles his wrath. You're a firebender and an exile. He can't afford to draw unwanted and spiteful attention to himself. Still, Zuko feels a flash of embarrassment. His scar has always been a sore subject. His honor, pride, and optimism extinguished in one day. Failure as a son, a soldier, and as a prince. Is he forever to be a catastrophic failure?
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Katara stopped and faced the men. She waved her arms and they were violently tossed up into the air and against the sides of buildings. They are encased in bitter ice. She smiled sweetly (though venom emitted through under the surface) and said, "How inconsiderate. You think looks are the only thing that matter? Then try finding love with severe frostbite. I assure you, it won't be because of the frostbite but because of your heartlessness that people will abandon you."
Zuko's heart raced. He didn't stifle a big smile as he walked side by side with his date.
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"Lee. Are you sensitive of your scar? Those jerks are dumb, okay? They don't know that what matters is a person's soul and if it is as clear as a still pool."
Zuko's gaze hardened –but not from anger. He studies Katara who stands in front of him. In the moonlight she looks absolutely beautiful.
She reaches a hand and places it aside Zuko's face. The scarred flesh is unequal to the other side of his face; Zuko can hardly feel anything besides fiery needles of pain, like if the wind brushes past. But he does not push Katara away. The ex-prince's honey-colored eyes tremble with anguish. "How could anyone love a person like me," he muttered softly.
"That scar doesn't define you. It shaped you, but it is not the only feature of you that should determine your value. People are hideous. Not their injuries." She smiled. "I'm happy to have spent time with someone like you."
"You…are?"
"Yes. And I'd like to go on another date. If you want to, that is."
Zuko felt the dying cinders of a smile blaze warmly. "I'd like that."
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Maybe being banished from the Fire Nation was a blessing in disguise. Here, Zuko has freedom to do what he wants. No longer must he adhere to Ozai's impossible standards. He can become anything. And he's really good at being a vigilante. After the date, he had found a detailed coin deposited in his pocket. It must have been from Katara. On the coin's surface is an elegant white lotus.
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He and Katara became inseparable. They were known as a crime-fighting duo that also worked as mercenaries. They'd often hangout at the tea shop or Icefall, a well-hidden hub for vigilantes and outcasts. Toph Beifong runs the place, being versatile in helpful gossip and fighting in betting tournaments. All three had felt letdown by life and wanted a change of pace. So, they established their group to restore balance in the world.