"Reminisce Quickly" has only one chapter. It is written first person from Zuko's point of view at various times throughout the show.

I don't own Avatar: The Last Airbender, or any of it's characters etc.

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Episode 1, watching the water rather than sleeping.

I stare across the ocean. Hope fills me yes, but I feel some of its comforting sensation slipping away already. How could it be the avatar? How could he be alive after one hundred years? How could I sleep not knowing? The odds don't favor my chances of returning home. However, I can think of little more than my meek prospect of going back to the Fire Nation. I'm almost starting to forget the palace I once knew every part of. The doorways and hallways melting together in my mind, they're a contorted swirl of they're true shape in my memory. I've often wondered why I've forgotten my old life so fast. Perhaps because I've pushed away thoughts of home since my banishment; they're too painful. If they're so blurred in my mind, why do I feel such vivid pain when I remember? I ignore my self inflicted question and continue to focus on the powerful glow I saw far away some hours ago, casting mysterious shadows to what lied near it. Most of me is sure it was indeed some trick of the light, but one piece of me casts those parts away. I mask my hopelessness with optimism and try to convince myself the avatar has returned. I try. Maybe I will fail.

Failure. Yes, my father labels me such. It always seemed so. I shake my head gently, trying to push away the inevitable pain I will feel. It comes, and my heart beats too fast. The memories of one of Zula and my training sessions floods my thoughts, drowning my hopes for acceptance by the Fire Nation. We combated each other scarcely. My father felt the need to place me in a fight against a new recruit most of the time, while Zula battled anyone she chose. Perhaps that's why she chose me. She felt she needed to once again assert her dominance. She felt her need for superiority's hunger setting in.

I hated fighting her. My father would always watch our duels; perhaps enjoying discovering which of his children was "superior". She always won. Her life; she thrived on firebending. She survived on it as a plant lives on water. She knew of her talent, and prized it. We were forced to train much of our lives, being prepared for warfare. Zula was more than content with her life. I never complained, but my enthusiasm was little put beside her's. When we fought our last battle, I was twelve.

It was a practice duel, for training purposes. We weren't supposed to be trying to seriously injure each other. We were practicing evasion techniques, and our flames, or mine at least, could scarcely burn. Zula despised evading, I knew. She always wanted to skip to finishing her objective immediately. She hated how our practices restricted her from harnessing as much power as she could credibly control into a single move. She loved to fight. Sometimes I think she would have loved to defeat me in a true battle, without limitations. She took her time, though, like a wolf creeping nearer to it's hunt. She endured the limited battles we shared, perhaps hoping for more someday. I haven't seen her in two years, but the glint in her eyes stands vibrant among my memories.

We were to evade each others blows. She escaped mine with ease, while I accomplished a bit less. I was slower, while her movements were like that of a master. My father often took the time to teach her personally. I supposed that was why she did so well despite her distaste for her used tactics. I wasn't a sore loser. I could barely stand fighting my sister, but not because of my losses. No, the memory of that day torments me because of her next attack.

Her longing to fight overtook her; or maybe she never had intention to abide by the practice standards. Her eyes glinted with such pleasure as she threw another shot. It was strong, stronger than it should have been by much. It was the best she could do, and it was too fast for me to dodge it completely. Some of it's flames burned my shoulder as I did my best to get out of the way. There was a great difference between the small wisps of embers we had been using to the large fireball she had sent at me. I let out a short gasp of pain as it made impact. I squinted my eyes and tried to lack other signs of weakness. Too late.

"You can do better; or perhaps not. Perhaps I fail to recognize your very limited potential," my father's forbidding, raspy voice spoke the stinging words.

"I can," I replied with another gasp.

I never mentioned the strength of Zula's blow. I think my father knew. Yes, I'm quite sure he knew, yet he praised Zula's victory as though it had been won with great valor.

I never witnessed any of my sister's duels, leave the ones I was a part of. I wonder if she had won them the same way she had defeated me; by breaking rules. My attentions leave my almost four year old memory, and return to the distance, where there could be hope for my future in the Fire Nation.

Episode 3, having defeated Zhao.

I have defeated a master firebender, respected greatly by most of my country. Why do I feel familiar pain enter my mind? My uncle speaks to him, having just prevented Zhao from attacking me after the commander's defeat. I take in his words, and yet my mind is in two places. My uncle's speech labels Zhao dishonorable. My father had always thought he saw great potential in the man I have defeated, though to a lesser extent than Zula. Zhao's attack reminds me of her's, unexpected, rage filled, and forbidden. Never a day in my life have I thought twice of my father's view of honor. I have, over the two years I've spent away from home, contemplated many of his decisions and even wondered if my sentence of exile was quite just. However, I have never questioned his saying my honor was lost. I have never, until now, thought someone he considered great to be "dishonorable". I try the title dishonorable on Zula for a moment, the similarity between her tactics and Zhao's striking me. I blink and the thought disappears. My uncle is turning to leave the arena. I take a last glance at the firebender my father has ranked so highly, the one whose will to see me suffer is so consuming he was ready to gamble his own honor for it, and I follow.

Episode 8, about to run Zhao's blockade.

I hear so much noise. My uncle warns me of the danger in venturing further towards the Fire Nation island ahead. He speaks of my banishment. I flinch. I hear more muffled sounds of ships tearing through water also, though most of the noise is within my mind itself. One decision I must make now plagues me. I wish I had more time to make the choice I must, but I have to release my words now.

"Run the blockade!"

I've freed them. I have no choice but to make the decision to chase the avatar. Banishment. The title haunts my every waking moment. The memory of my four year old duel flashes briefly in my mind before flickering out. My father had such pride in her, as he would soon have in me.

Episode 13, in the woods after escaping Zhao's fortress.

The avatar sits near me, speaking of a friend he once had one hundred years ago. One hundred years seems so little to him; like he paints for me a picture from a week's time ago. I feel this way about only two moments in my own life. When my father scarred me stands illuminated in my mind, perhaps for more than just the physical pain. It lingers because of the shock. I was expecting punishment, for what more could I imagine from my disrespected father? The flames just moved so quickly. That's what I remember most. How his flames moved so quickly. The second memory had begun frequenting my mind after my banishment. It was the memory of my last duel with my sister. I think it stands out because, like my father's punishment, her attack was so quick. It was sudden, something I hadn't expected, and lacked time to prepare for. It had hit it's target with ease. The memory of the second mentioned sparked anger in my thoughts. The avatar has finished speaking, but I am blind with my goal of regaining honor. I let loose some flames in his direction, rather than words. I regain some emotion as he flees and give a softened glance at the trees, where I see him leaping through to escape. My flames had moved so quickly. I hope I've made the right action.

Episode 20, floating along on the raft.

I've lost more. My honor and home; both were lost two years ago. I've gained the ability to find hope in chasing the avatar, though now it's leaving me. The avatar... "Aang". Twice he has spared my life. More times than that I have lacked as much mercy. Are we not enemies? Seldom have I seen the avatar a twelve year old with the mind of such. Before laying eyes on the last airbender, I envisioned a stern man with firm decisions regarding the Fire Nation and it's people. The avatar has emotion... My image is being washed away. I suppose my father was the one who placed it there to begin with, perhaps by giving himself to me for an example of a leader. Why do I wish to return home, then? The memory of my battle with my sister approaches, and I violently fight it away. It's accompanied by my will to prove myself to my father, which I reject and push away also. My emotions are a whirlwind. Each thought comes and goes. So quickly.