Before going to sleep, Zuko told himself that he was going to wake up early tomorrow. The next morning, he awoke at some utterly dead hour of the night. The embers under the ashes of the cooking fire were dormant, and no sound could be heard except snoring. Even Momo was sound asleep.

Mm. Right. I need to talk to Bato. Zuko yawned and carefully got up, making as little noise as possible. He crept over to the tent, pushed aside the flap, and, even though it made him feel very rude to do so, shook Bato's shoulder. The room was too dark for gesturing to work, so Zuko made noticeable shuffling sounds as he headed for the door.

Bato followed him outside. It was light enough outside to barely see each other. They sat on the porch by the front door and listened to the crickets.

"I wanted to talk to you," Zuko said. "But it was better to let them have a moment first."

"Thank you. What did you want to talk about?"

"Did either of them tell you why my uncle and I are traveling with them?"

"Not entirely." Bato sounded curious now. He shuffled as he turned to face Zuko. "Sokka said that you were traveling on a boat and got into trouble."

"Yeah." Huh. That kid is pretty good with tactics already. He had no trouble turning the pirates against me, and now he's a good liar too. Maybe he's not as harmless as I thought. But it was too late to go back on a promise to Uncle. Zuko would just have to live with his decision. "That's one way to put it."

"Did you want to tell me more?"

"Yes." Zuko pushed all thoughts of people out of his head. It was irrelevant next to his mission. "The full story is that my uncle and I were attacked by a water spirit. It froze our boat, made waves, and the only way to escape was the Avatar's bison. We've been traveling north to learn about water spirits and get rid of it."

"A water spirit attacked you?" Bato shook his head. "I've heard stories, but I've never seen such a thing. I don't know anything about water spirits. I'm afraid I can't help."

Zuko tried to restrain his frustration. If that was true, this entire trip was a bust. So he couldn't let it be true. "What stories have you heard?"

"There are a number of ice formations that are said to be the works of water spirits," Bato replied. "Kota and I pretended to be one once. There's an old superstition that angry water spirits will drive away the fish, and to make them happy you need to make a special offering."

This trip was sounding more and more like a bust. Zuko lowered his expectations. Maybe it'll at least be an interesting waste of time. "What offering?"

"I'm not sure about the details," Bato said. "Kanna would know more; she's the oldest woman in the tribe. I think it involves mixing ground fish scales with whale blubber, and feeding it to a penguin. Penguins are said to be the water spirit's chosen animals, you see."

"I'm not so sure of that."

"Why?"

"Uh…" Zuko couldn't tell him that the water spirit looked like a water dragon. That would be admitting that he'd seen it, and interacted with it, and a lot of other things that he didn't want to admit. Also, it would require him to explain what a water dragon was. Zuko was far too ashamed of the elaborate race of kindly dragons he'd dreamed up as a child to ever let anyone know it existed. Imaginary fantasies were also stupid and dangerous to share. "The spirit that attacked us didn't look or act penguinlike."

"Really? What did it look like?"

"Well, it… Nudged the bottom of the boat, and threw waves against the side, as if it had a tail… It seemed more like a giant fish." Whew! All technically true.

Bato chuckled. "What's your name? You are the only person I know who has seen a water spirit. I'm very interested."

Uh oh. A name. Do I need a fake name? Zuko couldn't think of one easily, and he was going to be moving on without a trace anyway. "Zuko."

"If you ever have the chance, come to the Southern Water Tribe. We love good stories. You would be very welcome." Bato placed a hand on his shoulder. "And good luck; an angry spirit is a dangerous foe. I wouldn't want to face one." He went back inside.

Bato's words echoed in Zuko's head. They had been said in kindness, but they filled him with guilt instead. I have been to the Southern Water Tribe. I wouldn't be as welcome there as he thinks. I terrified all of them, all those defenseless women and children. Zuko suddenly saw his past actions from the outside. I was cruel.

And there was nothing he could do about that, nor anything he could have done about it. What could he have done? He had seen the Avatar sheltering in that little huddle of tents. As soon as he saw that, the tribe's fate was sealed. He had no choice but to chase the Avatar.

Not until the water spirit came and gave me a different option…

Zuko clapped his hands over his ears. No. He refused to think any more about what he had done or what the water spirit had done. He couldn't. The water spirit was already tricky, fast, and difficult or impossible to beat at anything. He did not need to give it any help by undermining his own confidence. I did what I had to do. If the water spirit hadn't gotten in the way, everything would have been fine.

He regretted resolving to wake up early. The conversation with Bato had given him nothing but a bunch of bad questions, which had who knows how many hours of dark and quiet to torment him in. No distraction, no escape. Well, one distraction, one escape. But he didn't like that option.

He had no choice though. Before long, Bato's words drove him to his feet and sent him running down the road to the beach.

.

Katara smiled. She was home. Her warm bed furs were settled softly around her, and the fire was being kindled for breakfast. Dad must be home. She couldn't wait to tell him about the wonderful things she had seen! And show him her new waterbending skills, and…

Aang. She couldn't be home. Aang had to be at the North Pole. Katara moaned and forced her eyes open. "Bato?"

Sokka yawned. "Dad?" he mumbled. "It smells delicious…"

Bato laughed, waking all 3 of the children up. "I'm not your father, but I hope it is delicious." He stirred a pot of seaweed stew, hung next to a pan of smoked fish.

Seeing the food reminded Katara of their rude guests. She startled as she realized Zuko and Iroh were gone. "Where'd they go?"

"The old man went to ask the nuns for their food. As for your friend with the scar, I haven't seen him for several hours."

That caught Sokka's attention. "Hours?"

"He woke me up to talk about water spirits earlier, when it was dark. I haven't heard him come back."

Sokka and Katara shared a look. Yeah, Zuko was acting pretty reasonable and there was no reason to think he would do anything bad. But he'd been their enemy for so long, his name associated only with bad things, that surprise absence on his part still made their hair stand on end and pulse quicken. Katara was glad to see Sokka respond the same way. She'd been starting to wonder if she should try harder to be forgiving, if she was being unreasonably suspicious. Sokka's response reassured her that she was not.

"Is something wrong?" Bato asked.

"No," Sokka lied. "Just weird. A few hours, middle of the night, in a forest we don't know… Better make sure he hasn't been eaten by wolves."

Aang's stomach growled, waking Momo, who jumped off to sniff at the smoked fish. "Before breakfast?" Aang clutched at his stomach. The conflict was real.

Katara would have liked to say yes, before breakfast, but Bato was still there. If she told him their "friend" was actually a firebender who had threatened the rest of the tribe recently, the guilt would crush her. How could she admit to sheltering such a person? Katara couldn't believe she'd been thinking of herself as unreasonably suspicious. She was being unreasonably permissive! Only by the littlest of margins could she convince herself it wasn't blatantly immoral to help him with anything.

"If he's not back when we're done with breakfast, we can ask the wolves," she said with as much casual ease as she could muster. If he wasn't back when they were done, he would wish he had never been born, unless the wolves really had gotten him.

Before breakfast was done cooking, they heard a commotion from outside. Zuko had returned, along with a rider on an ostrich horse. The rider had gotten lost and been unable to locate the abbey road last night, and now his mount was tired. He delivered a rolled scroll to Bato before he and his mount were led away to get some rest.

Instead of opening the message immediately, Bato went back inside to take their breakfast off the fire. Zuko's stomach growled even more loudly than Aang's, and he volunteered to try the seaweed stew. He, Sokka and Katara went inside to wait as Bato prepared breakfast. "I thought your taste buds had to be half-dead before you'd eat any of our food," Sokka said.

"Before I'd eat sea prunes. Seaweed is something I've had before and liked. There's a limit to how bad it can be."

"Seaweed stew is a lot different from seaweed used as wraps," Sokka said with a laugh. "Try not to choke again. If you do, don't say I didn't warn you."

Zuko squeezed both his eyes shut. "Fine. I'm sorry I insulted your culture last night."

Sokka stopped laughing. "Maybe sea prunes are an acquired taste."

Zuko's shoulders relaxed, and he looked rather tired all of a sudden. He thanked Bato as he was handed a bowl, and otherwise said nothing. He didn't show much of anything on his face as he ate. They ate in contented silence.

It was too much for Katara to take. She put down her fish after the first bite. "So, anything interesting happen last night?" Where had he gone? Why was he suddenly in the mood to apologize? Why was he so quiet? Katara had long since concluded that if Zuko was a landscape, as his uncle had said, then he must be a volcanic one. Out-of-nowhere explosions punctuated by periods of calm sounded volcanic to her. If that was true, then every period of calm was nothing but the buildup to another explosion. They weren't good things at all. She would have felt better if he'd been angrily grumbling.

"I put together a plan," Zuko answered. "For how to not fight so much. It involves some things I don't have yet, but we can buy them from somewhere."

Katara's eyes widened. To avoid fighting? She pictured a giant cork coming down from the sky to plug up a leaking volcano. The thought of the kind of explosion that would result made her throat run dry. "This plan involves finding some other outlet for your anger. Right?" Please let her be right.

"Hm?" Bato paused halfway through his fish. "I wasn't aware you had personal problems to talk about. Should I go?" He prepared to get up and give them privacy if need be.

"No. You can stay." Zuko's face had lost its disturbing blankness. Katara was relieved. There was the angry firebender she knew! She did not allow herself to look relieved, because him being angry meant she had to be prepared for anything, including an explosion. She could not look relaxed or happy where he was concerned, even if she was. But that was just how things were between her and a firebender who'd threatened their lives until a week ago. What else could anyone expect?

Zuko continued: "It might be a good idea to have someone around to explain things to. Maybe these jerks will finally explain what's wrong with them then!"

Sokka sighed. "Back to this again? You keep saying we're the jerks, but I don't exactly see you doing anyone any favors! You sit around in the saddle all day grumbling at everything and starting fights. What's wrong with you?"

"Really? Grumbling at nothing?" Zuko glared at him. "I don't call mocking my perfectly reasonable concerns 'nothing!'"

"What do you expect us to do, stop having fun and devote our entire lives to racing north?" Katara asked. "We're going as fast as we can! I'm sorry that the way we fly isn't good enough for you, your highness."

"And I'm sorry that the way I exist isn't what you'd prefer!" Zuko glared at her extra venomously. "You think I haven't noticed the way you look at me for things I never asked for and can't control?"

"Everyone on Kyoshi Island would beg to differ!"

Zuko reared back. "That was… I had no choice! What else could I do?"

"You always have a choice," Katara told him. "Everyone does."

"Not me. I did what I had to do, and I'm still doing that. If my attempts to not die are annoying you, that's not my problem." Zuko crossed his arms.

"Why are you so serious about everything?" Sokka asked. "If you were made of air, you still wouldn't lighten up! Who shoved a stick up your butt?"

Zuko turned to glare at him again. "I won't apologize for being the only sane person here. It's like none of you even care, like reality is a giant game. You know what? Maybe I will apologize. I'm sorry that I won't stick my fingers in my ears and pretend the water spirit is just a friend we haven't talked to enough yet!"

Katara's blood boiled. Accusing her of being irresponsible? Her? The person who had looked after her older brother and basically become her mother ever since she was five? That was too much! "We're plenty concerned about the water spirit. I'm sorry we don't express that in a way you like!"

Zuko snarled at her. Katara spread her fingers, ready to lash him with hot stew if he moved. Sokka got to his knees, ready to back her up. How many times had they dodged fireballs because of him? It was about time he learned what it felt like to be afraid, time he learned what it was like to tremble in fear, scared for your life, because of someone who could just trample all over what was yours and ruin what was most precious. She had lost her mother to just such a person! Had he ever lost his mother that way? Surely not.

"Stop!" Bato reached across the fire and placed a hand on her shoulder, then placed one on Sokka's. "Stop. What has gotten into you? Sokka, a warrior does not fight without reason! You sound like you want to start a brawl. Katara, what happened to the gentle girl who would look after everyone's needs and comfort them? This young man tells you he's afraid. Shouldn't he be comforted?

"And you. I don't know you very well," he admitted to Zuko. "But you were quite sensible last night. You kept your mind focused easily. Where is that focus now? This plan of yours sounded like a good one, but I still haven't heard a word about it."

Zuko shut his mouth and looked down. Sokka groaned, not any less ruffled than he was before, but now hurt and embarrassed on top of that. And Katara felt sick to her stomach. Bato was right. What had she been thinking? This wasn't the kind of person she wanted to be. The scar covering Zuko's eye was a burn scar. He must know what it was like to be afraid and hurt. She had forgotten that?

Zuko finished his food silently. Katara remembered what had made her tense before. He had apologized. It would only be right for her to apologize now. She had to make amends.

But something in the crackling of the fire next to her made her hesitate, and in that hesitation, her chance was lost. Zuko slipped out the door without a glance.

.

Across the abbey, Iroh negotiated the purchase of perfume. His full laugh and easy manner earned him a 20% discount. The Avatar watched closely. Maybe he was taking notes.

If so, he was an idiot. Nobody could just learn to be like Uncle. If anyone could, Zuko would have. He'd spent more than 3 years in the consistent company of his uncle, and at the end of them all he was here, head spinning and bad questions swarming on all sides and shame in his gut, and the oasis of calm Iroh appeared to live in had never looked so far away.

The Avatar noticed him coming out of Bato's place alone. "Hi. Is everything okay?" He already looked worried. Good. He's learning. No, bad - he's the Avatar, I don't want him to be competent. Gah!

Instead of answering, Zuko beckoned. The lemur lowered his ears and jumped onto Zuko's shoulders, where he began picking over Zuko's scalp in an attempt at grooming. Finding nothing except the stubble of new hair growing in, Momo settled for rubbing the side of his head against Zuko's. Parts of the firebender's body that had been too tense before ached as they relaxed. It was a little embarrassing to ask for this kind of comfort in public, but nothing like the humiliation he had just been put through. Besides, this was an abbey full of nuns, not the imperial court.

"Uh oh," Iroh translated. "Nephew?"

"We need a new Pai Sho set, Uncle. Quickly." In the meantime, Zuko yearned for a peaceful place to rest and recover. There was such a place, but he didn't like that option.

Once again, he had no choice. The only alternative was to listen to the Avatar's questions, and that was beyond his abilities. Once again, Zuko was driven to the water.

He hated it. He hated that the water existed, that he was going to it, that he wanted to. It was the background of his life, and he couldn't peel himself away. Like a child, a weakling, something pathetic that his father had always scorned at and with good reason, he clung to the familiar. Stupid, pathetic… But he kept walking, and the lemur still clung to his neck. That was nice.

Zuko sat on the side of Bato's boat. Earlier, with the Avatar's unwitting help, he had composed an anti-friendship list in order to repel the dangerous forces that might lure him into treachery. Based on that list, he had also created a plan to avoid friendship, and by doing so avoid fighting. But that would take time to implement, and would only prevent big blowups. How could he avoid conflict in general? Now he saw the need for another list: a dedicated anti-fighting list. It would be filled with all kinds of things that he already knew and struggled to put into practice, so it wouldn't be very useful. But it would be something to do to drown out the waves pounding inside his skull. The boat shuddered and rocked. Zuko moved to the deck for better stability.

They're completely convinced that they're right, so trying to tell them they're not clearly won't work. Maybe I should do nothing. Pretend I don't notice or care about how they act. It wasn't clear why he bothered to consider that option. He already knew he could not possibly do it. The water spirit was treating him like a toy, and that constant chafing left his dignity too raw to withstand any other insult. He had never been any good at staying quiet, anyway.

Maybe I should do the opposite. Uncle said they might have failed to notice how cruel it is to leave someone out on a blanket all night. Maybe I should talk to them more. His skin crawled at the idea. Furthermore, beyond the physical discomfort, he was conceptually uncomfortable too. The first entry on the list of anti-friendship measures was "Avoid telling stories." Talking to them more sounded dangerously similar to telling stories, which might accidentally result in friendship and treachery and losing the only place he had in the world and losing everything. No stories, then. Just short, simple descriptions. It was a fine line he had to walk, but he could do it. He had to be able to do it if he was ever going to be Firelord.

No stories, and no talking any more than I have to. Anything else? The boat rocked less and did not shudder any more. Momo judged it safe to stop clinging to Zuko's head and hop down onto the deck. After finding nothing of interest, he perched on Zuko's leg and looked up into his face. "What?"

Momo's ears lowered. Zuko sat back and sighed. "Yeah. Things aren't going well. I'm sorry you have to get caught in the middle of it." Softly, he scratched Momo under the chin. "I'm trying my best to make it better, okay? I have a plan. Trust me."

Momo's ears rose a little, and his tail flicked. He blinked his wide eyes twice. Curiosity. "You want to hear about my plan?" Momo tilted his head. "Okay. Do you remember Aunt Wu's town, when the volcano was about to erupt?" In case the lemur did not, Zuko described everything he had done from the moment he and Iroh saw the Avatar's glider descend. "The problem with the Avatar is, I am not willing to be friends with him. That would be treachery. But I also don't want to fight with them. I have to not fight and not be friends either. In other words, I have to work with them the same way I did to save Aunt Wu's town."

He paused here to make sure Momo was following along. The lemur looked down, then up again. He chattered and tilted his head. How? Zuko smiled. "The volcano was something we could focus on that wasn't each other. It was a project we could all work on that we all agreed on. I need something like that. That's where Pai Sho comes in. It's a game that people can play together. It's pleasant, it's absorbing, it takes a lot of thinking, and it's complicated enough to talk about. It'll keep anyone I play with from having a conversation with me, so there's no danger of accidentally making friends, and we could talk about the game instead of fighting. It's perfect!"

Momo leaped up onto his right shoulder and made his way across Zuko's back to his left shoulder, his tail brushing softly over the stubble of new hair. Zuko chuckled. "You like the plan? Me too. I just need a Pai Sho set."

Momo settled and closed his eyes. Maybe he was enjoying the rocking of the boat. What the - ?! Wait a second! The boat was rocking on a suspiciously regular rhythm, rolling back and forth smoothly, like a giant cradle. Zuko cried out in horror and embarrassment and leaped off of it onto the beach. He shivered and brushed at his pants frantically, trying to scrub away all traces of what had just been happening. The water spirit didn't use ice to toy with him. That had been a really desperate move on its part. No, it usually used other tricks. Acting silly and foolish so he would let his guard down. Acting nice and friendly so he wouldn't want to get rid of it. Being helpful so that he would be dependent on it. And, worst of all, its favorite trick: soothing him, taking away anger and hurt, tricking him into thinking things were okay. The last time he'd believed a lie like that, he'd almost died. Things were demonstrably not okay. He was burned, dishonored, thrown out of his own country by his own father, and treated like a laughingstock. That was not fine! His life was not okay!

And, since he was pretty sure it would be okay if only he could be the sort of son he should be, and the fact that he wasn't was undoubtedly due to the water spirit's manipulations, all of this was the water spirit's fault. The water spirit liked to sit around and play and waste its time on all kinds of childish games, and it made that seem acceptable, even good. It could make him like the kind of behavior that 16 years of life experience had taught him was shameful and wasteful and stupid.

Zuko scrubbed at his pants furiously, long past the point where he couldn't see a single speck of sand, then turned and ran back to the abbey. He tried to summon up his anger as he did so. His anger, his fire, was good. It was what drove him. It was what he needed, fuel to his furnace. Zuko desperately reached out for all the rage, all the hurt, everything fiery that the Avatar and his friends had ever engendered in him.

He could not reach it. The water spirit had taken all that rage and pain away.