Chapter 13: Only This Moment

Katara woke up to an empty barrack. She didn't know how long she'd been asleep since stumbling back to her bed, but the light was only just beginning to dim outside. Stumbling from bed, she blearily rubbed her eyes as she entered the bathroom, shutting it behind her. There was a deep scratch on one cheek—light bruising on her jaw and her shoulder ached. Nothing unexpected from a fistfight. If she was lucky, Borr's nose would never be straight again.

Footsteps out in the room made her open the bathroom door a crack to check to see who it was. The deadpan eyes of Lt. Ensei met hers, and she sighed before opening the door the rest of the way and stepping out.

"Have fun?" he said drily, noting the dried brown blood from the cut on her cheek.

"Yes," she said, completely truthful. It felt strange, this new liberated feeling in her chest. She'd punched Borr's face in; wasn't she supposed to feel guilty?

"Sakai's out for your blood," Lt. Ensei said, leaning against a bunk. "And if not yours, then mine."

"What's he getting involved for?" Katara sniped, moving towards her shelve to pull out a small bag of healing cream. "It was an equal fight between two equally matched opponents."

"Sakai's putting out that it was unfair; a two against one situation."

"What, Borr's imaginary friend joined in?"

"The Emperor."

"Oh."

"People on the outside aren't supposed to interfere, even if they're royalty," Lt. Ensei said, as if reminding her. She grimaced and nodded. She knew.

"So what's Sakai going to do? Spank his Majesty?"

Ensei shrugged. "Obviously not. So he's going for second-best."

"Me." Katara put on a nonchalant face and turned to rummage around in her bag.

"His whole patrol wants you thrown from the Elites for getting dishonorable help in what was supposed to be a fair fight."

Katara whirled around, eyes narrowed. "I didn't ask for his help—"

"You think I don't know that?" Ensei said, cutting her off.

"Alright," Katara snapped, folding her arms across her chest. Inside, she began to feel the first stirrings of trepidation. She was confident, but what if Sakai really picked up steam and managed to get her kicked out from the Elites? It was possible. And then everything she'd done for the past six months would go straight down the drain. "What do you suggest I do, then?"

Ensei shrugged again. "Wait for it to blow over, is my best idea. After a few weeks, Sakai might loose support and he'll eventually forget about it, or think it's not important enough for him to deal with."

"So what do I do, hide in the barracks all day and all night until Sakai wakes up one morning and forgets who I am?"

The lieutenant slipped a piece of paper out of his pocket and held it out to Katara. "We could leave. The Emperor just sent us a new assignment; rebel movement in the south. It's sufficiently far away enough from the capital for us to be gone for, say, a month. Maybe a bit more."

Katara took the paper from him and read silently. Rebel attacks, lead by a leader who'd replaced Warrior Yuhao since his death three months ago. Raids, civilian deaths, border patrol not enough to hold them off. The usual thing.

"Sounds good to me," she said.

The usual preparations were made before they left Kotzut. Food supplies gathered, personal items packed and stowed in the saddlebags of the sturdy horses they would take to the southern part of the Fire Nation.

"Emperor's not coming this time," Lt. Ensei informed them as they performed last minute check-ups on equipment and supplies. "Business has come up and he needs to stay in the capital to deal with it personally."

Good, Katara thought to herself. Now I won't have to deal with him. She ignored the slight feeling of surprise and… disappointment?

"What happened?" Hiro asked from behind her.

"The Emperor," Lt. Ensei paused just a bit. "thinks he's found the rebel spy. A palace servant."

Katara tightened the strap on her horse's saddle, fingers clenching on the dry leather.

"For real?" asked Qin. "How did the Emperor know who it was?"

Lt. Ensei shrugged, swinging himself up into the saddle. "Not sure myself. Confidential information, you know. But hopefully he's got the real one."

"What if the servant's innocent? What if he's not the spy?" Katara inquired, mounting her own horse and nudging it out of the dim stables and into the sunlight. She squinted.

"Then he'll try to prove his innocence," The lieutenant took the lead.

"But what if he can't?" Katara insisted.

"Then he dies," Ensei said simply simply.

Something about her thoughts must have showed up on her face, because Qin drew up next to her and flashed her a tiny smile, not altogether cheery. "Better safe than sorry."

So somewhere out there, in the cells of the royal palace, there was an innocent stranger being tortured and beaten for information on a rebel group he was never affiliated with. Because he couldn't possibly be the spy. She was.

Katara knew this, and knew that the accused "spy" was an innocent. But she also knew there was nothing she could do about it.

Another casualty of war. Another sacrifice. Juiko, and now the palace servant. She was a fool to hope this would be the last one. It would never end.

A week of traveling, and they were camping tonight in the south, near a deserted village that had been the victim of the latest rebel attacks. It was spooky, queer as they'd arrived in the morning and walked through the remains of the town. Most of the villagers had fled as soon as they'd heard the news of rebels, but a few carcasses had still remained, killed by quick arrows or fine sword points. Their flesh and eyes had been long gone, picked by scavengers and vultures.

Katara had averted her eyes when the patrol walked through the ghost town, checking for survivors or any remaining rebels. Now they were camped a distance away from the town wall, close enough so that they could still see the faint shape of the once-populated village against the dimming twilight sky.

Now it was dark; a fire had been lit and the tent set up. The horses grazed a distance away, picketed to the ground by their ropes. Hiro had taken out his Pai Sho board, a clever thing that could fold up by its hinges and stuffed into a travel bag. The small pieces were kept in a pouch.

Katara watched carefully as Hiro and Qin leaned over the board at the side of the fire, chins resting on palms and eyes studying the pieces. It was a clear night, peaceful and tranquil. Hard to believe anything could really attack them out here.

Qin raised one hand to move one of his pieces one square to the left. Lt. Ensei, observing, shook his head and pointed in the other direction.

"Right?" Qin asked, reversing his direction and sliding the piece to the right.

Hiro snapped to attention. "Hey! No cheating!"

Qin smiled. "You're just afraid of losing."

"Losing to a cheater!" Hiro put on a mock scowl. "You have no honor!"

Qin stood up from the ground with an exaggerated swagger and a mock flexing of muscles. "I'll show you honor!"

Letting out a fake war cry, Hiro launched himself at Qin and they fell to the ground. Ensei rolled his eyes and Katara smiled, continuing to polish her knife. Faozu smiled, and leaning over, switched a few of the Pai Sho pieces around on the board while Qin and Hiro were distracted.

They wrestled until Qin emerged, putting Hiro in a headlock and messing his brown hair like an affectionate older brother.

"I forfeit, I forfeit!" Hiro cried, wrenching himself away from Qin and trying in vain to smooth down his hair.

"Stop fooling around and let's finish the game," Qin panted, sitting back down on the dirt. Hiro huffed and resumed his place.

Katara smiled to herself and wondered how long it would take for them to figure out their game had been tampered with.

"I thought my lotus tile was supposed to be on the third square—"

"Shut up and stop messing around—"

"Obviously there's something wrong with your memory—"

"Did you move my monkey tile?"

"I'm not a cheater; are you calling me a cheater?"

Faozu bent his head to hide a laugh and pretended to concentrate on oiling his horse's saddle. Hiro glanced over and saw Katara's grin. "Hey! Did you move the pieces?"

"No," she laughed. "Of course I didn't!"

"You're lying!" Hiro pointed at her. "You moved them while me and Qin weren't looking!"

"I don't even know how to play!" Katara raised her hands placatingly. "Don't blame me!"

"You don't know how to play?" asked Qin.

"Come over here," Hiro motioned. "I'll teach you."

Obligingly, Katara scooted over, closer to the fire and next to Hiro. "Alright."

Qin began, pointing a finger at a tile with a flower on it. "The object of the game is to defeat your opponent with…"

Katara listened to the lesson in strategy, before she felt a faint prickling on the side of her face. Turning, she caught Hiro's eyes fixated on her. The look was too intense, too gone to be just brotherly affection.

Confused, she refused to acknowledge him, and turned back to the game board before her. Eventually, she could feel his gaze slide away, slightly disappointed. Katara swallowed, all of a sudden feeling tension inside her. She liked Hiro, really. He was a wonderful friend, a good fighter. But not like… not the way he'd looked at her. No.

Pleading weariness, Katara excused herself from the game, thanking Qin for his help, and retreated to her spot next to the tent to finish polishing her equipment. Hiro looked at her curiously before she left, a lingering glance that she tried to shake off. Please don't.

Setting her knife aside in its sheath, Katara laid back down on the ground, looking at the dark sky full of bright stars. Maybe Sokka and Suki were looking at the same sky back in Kyoshi. Maybe Katara's niece or nephew was taking his or her first look at the stars. It sent a pang of homesickness through her. She'd been gone for so long that she had family members in Kyoshi she hadn't even met yet.

Rolling to her side, back facing the fire and her patrol mates, she gazed off into the darkness towards the demolished village. Suki might be pregnant again with a second child. With at start, Katara found that Suki's face in her memory was starting to blur. She couldn't remember the exact way her eyes had smiled, the way her hair had fallen over her shoulders.

Almost frantic in her stiff panic, Katara sought out her brother's face in her mess of a memory. His bright blue eyes and dark, tan smile was brought forth, and she almost cried out in relief. How soon before his face was lost to her as well? She wanted to go home. She needed to go home.

Besides, who knew if her rendition of her family's faces was still accurate? Sokka and Suki were older now, with a child between them. They'd probably changed a lot. While she—she was Katara the Fire Empire soldier. Had she changed?

Katara shut her eyes and refused to think about it.

A loud shout and the clash of metal on metal woke Katara from a dreamless sleep. She could hear her patrol mates fumbling next to her in tent. She threw back her sleeping bag, trying to see in the darkness.

"What's going on?" she cried, and grunted when somebody's elbow accidentally caught her in the cheek. The tent door flapped open for a second and she could glimpse Ensei's dark silhouette against the glowing remains of the campfire as he leapt out into the night.

"Qin was on watch—the rebels are attacking," Hiro gasped, grabbing his sword and his weapons, before stumbling over Katara for the tent door. She could see Faozu in the back, trying to get his shirt on before flinging it aside in frustration and buckling on his sword. "Let's go, let's go!"

Moving faster than she'd ever moved in her life, Katara squirmed out of her sleeping bag and grabbed for her own weapons, almost tripping over somebody's bag as she went for the opening of the tent, followed closely by Faozu. The first thing she noticed was the light rain that was falling around her as she braced herself for an attack.

Outside, all was chaos. There were dark moving shapes everywhere in the silvery light of the full moon. The campfire still glowed with red embers, sizzling as raindrops hit them; she could see the lieutenant engaged in a fight with a white-faced rebel.

A shining sword came out of her peripheral vision, and before she could turn to block it, Faozu had jumped ahead and was grappling with the enemy. Backing away, Katara tried to look for all her patrol members. Where was Qin? Hiro? The rebels flitted around the camp, there one moment, gone the next, too fast for her to fight hand-to-hand combat. The wet began to seep into her clothes; she barely noticed it.

Grabbing her bow and arrow from the side of the tent, Katara took off for the trees near the clearing. Clambering up the branches and flicking aside leaves dripping with rainwater, she lodged herself in the crook of the tree and drew her back a shaking hand, letting one—two—three arrows fly into the white-bright faces of her targets on the ground. She hit two; they toppled to the ground. Out of nowhere, Hiro charged at the third one who had taken an arrow in the arm.

She didn't think as she shot arrow after arrow. The rain infringed on her vision; half the time she guessed and knew she missed. Her breath shook, and her mind was numb. She did her job, and she killed anything that looked like the enemy.

Anything that looked like her people.

Isn't this ironic? She was here, with the Elites, for the sole purpose of saving Kyoshi and keeping them from destruction. And to do that, she had to kill Kyoshi warriors. How fucked up was this world?

Lt. Ensei ran his sword through another green-clad rebel, before pulling swiftly out and leaving his victim to fall to the ground. Red blood flashed through the air as Ensei flicked his sword, his attention already on something else.

Something happened—a silent signal exchanged between the rebels?—and all of a sudden they were fleeing, Hiro and Qin and Faozu close on their tails, towards the forest where Katara was lodged. They dashed beneath her, and as Hiro passed he looked up, gesturing for her to get down and follow them. She almost fell from the tree in her haste to get back on the ground. Lt. Ensei flashed by, shoving another sword into her hands, and they both took off after their patrol and their enemies.

"Stay together!" yelled the Lieutenant as he and Katara drew close up with Hiro and the rest. "We separate, they'll pick us off! Let's do this right—Qin in the front with me, Faozu in the middle, Katara and Hiro guarding the back."

Moving swiftly into a formation with a speed that spoke of practice and training, the patrol sped off into the darkness of the forest, following the crashing sounds of the rebels escaping. Soon her breath was coming in harsh pants, her feet pounding a steady rhythm into the ground as they raced forward, the hunted becoming the hunter. She could barely see the heads of Lt. Ensei, Qin, and Faozu ahead of her as they whipped by leaves and flickering branches. A brief flash of lightening in the sky lit up the rainy night for a split second.

Then a different sort of flash—the bare white of a warrior's face—in the bushes next to her, and she caught a glimpse of a face she recognized from her childhood. Kian, one of the three children of Warrior Yuhao, an old playmate of Sokka's. Had he learned of his father's death, and come to replace him in the rebel attacks?

Seeing Kian's face, quickly disappearing, caused the entire flood of her thoughts from earlier tonight to come back, slamming her with a wall of homesickness. Kian wouldn't have left Kyoshi that long ago—he would know how Sokka was doing, how his child was growing, how Suki was still as lively as ever, how the island was still as beautiful as she remembered in her dreams—

And before she knew it, her feet had changed course, and she was crashing into the bush after Kian, breath coming heavy, teetering on the edge of knowledge and longing. She could hear Hiro shout behind her—"Katara! Where are you going?"—but she ignored him. She ignored the fact that she was leaving her patrol behind, running off in a completely different direction. All she could do was think about seeing her brother again, her family again.

Kian must have noticed her racket behind him, because he flashed her a quick look before taking off. There was practically no light; Katara couldn't blame him for not recognizing her. All he probably saw was some upstart bastard Fire Elite, trying to take him down. He didn't see the blue eyes, the hopeful face, the tan skin.

He ran; she followed, and knew that with every step, she was getting farther and farther away from her patrol and Hiro. When she judged that she was a good distance away to keep any sound from traveling, she opened her mouth. "Kian! Kian—wait!"

He stopped, shocked, turning his white face back to look at her, one arm out with a wickedly shining sword held in hand. It pointed straight at her. Katara leaned over, breath hitching.

"How do you know my name?" Kian's voice was harsh in the stillness between them. The gulf of a childhood gone by.

"It's me—it's me, Katara," she managed to gasp out. The trees around them were silent spectators.

His sword lowered a fraction of an inch. "How do I know it's you?" But his voice was filled with grudging hope.

Tired beyond all reasoning, Katara dropped her own sword to the ground, and reaching her arms before her, drew up a tiny, wavering stream of water from the rain pooling on her skin and falling through the air around her.

"It's true," he said with a bit of wonder, his sword falling all the way to his side. He did not move closer. "Some of us—some of us thought you were dead. We heard the Fire Nation army burned a Water bender they'd found in their recruits—we thought that was you."

Katara's heart sank. "Your—your father. I was there with him when he died."

Kian visibly stiffened. "Did you kill him?"

Katara shook her head. "I didn't have to. He killed himself before the Elites could find him."

"An honorable death, then," Kian said, voice cold and emotionless. She knew what he meant. He would mourn his father when he wasn't in danger of being killed by Fire Elites; right now they would merely exchange information without any fuss over feelings.

"Tell me," Katara begged. "Tell me how my brother is doing. His child. Suki. Everyone."

Kian's voice was a bit kinder now, gentler. He knew what it was to be away from home for so long, fighting a war that seemed to lose more meaning day after day after day. "Sokka is fine, as is Suki. Their child—your niece—is a girl, Suyan. They're all doing very well."

"And the Mistress?"

"Still going strong," Now he sounded a bit more hesitant. "but some—some think she should abdicate and let her daughter and Sokka take over. The Mistress isn't so young anymore."

The air was so still. Katara was drenched in water now, and she could feel the coolness on her skin. "Tell my brother—tell Suki I still love them and miss them very, very much."

The water ran off of Kian's face, taking some of the paint with it. Katara wondered if those droplets hit the ground filled with white, or were they just as transparent as before?

"I will," he said. "And Katara—Kyoshi will still be there for you, when you're done with all this. You'll go home, and you'll see them all again."

A swell of happiness and utter longing rose inside her, and the water still pooled in her hands rose as well; a tiny, immaculate fountain held by her warmth. Things were good now; she had news of Kyoshi, and she could return to her patrol satisfied and confident in her role. It was so beautiful, this life—this hope.

"Katara!"

She spun around, the water leaving her hands and splattering to the ground, muddying the dirt at her feet.

The shocked, still face of Hiro gaped from behind her. He pointed one trembling finger at Katara. "You—you, Water bender—rebel—I trusted you!" His voice was almost hysterical, the screeching whine as he drew his sword from his sheath.

"No, Hiro," she held up placating hands, the same hands which had betrayed her to him with her Water bending. "Please, let me explain—believe me, it wasn't supposed to be like this—"

"I would have waited for you!" Hiro's voice was a cry of anguish and the realization that everything he had believed in was false. He raised his sword, a shining length of metal hatred. "I was going to ask—I was going to tell you—I loved you, you traitor!"

From the corner of her eye she could see Kian behind her, lifting an arrow to his bow, the picture of a perfect warrior, utterly confident in what he was about to do.

Katara moved, one hand outstretched as if to catch the arrow with her bare hand. "Stop—"

It was like a dream, a horrible nightmare she couldn't wake up from. She could see the passage of the arrow as it split apart the rainwater in its path. Her world sped up and Hiro was gasping, on the ground, clutching the wood in his chest—then she was screaming something, somebody's name, over and over again. The question, the shock, the hatred must have showed on her face as blatant as the sun to Kian.

The Kyoshi Warrior, still holding his bow rigidly, said, "I hope you understand."

And the horrible thing was that she did.

"I did it," Kian said, turning to leave, his dark green armor blending in with the trees, "So you wouldn't have to."

Then he disappeared, and Katara was left, Hiro's dying breath echoing against the ring of trees.

She crawled, on her hands and knees, to his side. Blood, dark rich red, dribbled from his mouth, and she lifted his head onto her lap, rocking back and forth, back and forth. She moved his soaking brown hair to the side, his amber-bright eyes staring up at her face in desperation.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, smoothing her hand across his forehead.

He didn't seem to hear her, caught in the throes of death. "Tell me—" he panted out, his words slurred by the diluted blood at his lips. "Tell me you loved me too—Katara—please tell me—"

He was begging, pleading with her to grant him one wish before he left this world. It was so heartbreakingly pathetic she couldn't stop the tears from coming.

She leaned over, pressing icy lips to his hot, feverish forehead and said, "I love you, Hiro."

He died, dimming gold eyes caught in the bright stars above the trees.

And Katara wondered if she was damned, that the last comfort she'd given this man before his death had been an utter and total lie.

Katara wondered what Lt. Ensei thought as the rest of the patrol came upon her with Hiro's dead body in the clearing. Her kneeling, Hiro's head in her lap, one of her hands resting on his chest next to the protruding arrow.

There were no words to be spoken, not in this moment. Silently, Qin and Faozu moved to lift Hiro up from the ground. She sat there, unmoving. Lt. Ensei strode forward and pulled Katara up from the ground, his hand an iron grip on her arm.

Katara didn't know how they eventually made it back to the campsite. Obviously the rest of her patrol had dealt with the rebels accordingly before coming back to look for her and Hiro. When they finally arrived, Qin kicked aside a rebel body still lying next to the fire before he and Faozu gently set Hiro down on the ground.

"You two," Lt. Ensei said curtly. "Clean up the camp. I need to talk to Katara."

Qin and Faozu obeyed silently. Lt. Ensei, gesturing shortly to Katara, strode from the light of the campfire to the far side of the tent. She followed, head bowed.

The lieutenant stopped a short distance away from camp. Katara stood before him, refusing to meet his eyes.

"Look at me," he snapped.

She obeyed, and it was hard to keep her own eyes from sliding away to gaze at the unassuming dark trees of the forest.

"What did you do," Lt. Ensei said, eyes hard as flint. "Tell me what you did."

"I screwed up."

"No," said the lieutenant.

Katara looked up, flashing him a confused glance. "Wha—?"

"You fucked up." Lt. Ensei said.

Katara stood there, silent.

"Because of your stupid little glory-hunt, traipsing off into the woods like you were going to find and tackle a rebel all by yourself, Hiro is dead," Lt. Ensei's voice was harsh, grating on the ears. "You deliberately left the patrol to play the hero, and Hiro followed you because he wanted to help you and make sure you didn't get hurt. And what is he repaid with? Death."

"I didn't mean for him to die—" Her voice was a whisper, quickly drowned out by her commanding officer's anger.

"I don't care what you fucking didn't mean to do! What I care about is the fact that Hiro is dead, because of your idiocy and arrogance. I specifically told you to stay with the group, to help bring up the back, but you deliberately disobeyed my orders and got somebody killed!"

"You think I don't feel guilty?" Katara yelled back, trying to keep the tears from coming again. If she was angry, then she wouldn't have to be sad. "You think I don't know that Hiro's death is my fault?"

"Guilt won't bring him back," Lt. Ensei said calmly. "If you're sorry about it until the day you die, Hiro won't come back."

"I know."

Lt. Ensei ran a hand through his light hair. It was the first sign of absolute frustration from him that she'd seen all night. "I know you know."

For a hysterical second, Katara thought of the silly games she'd played with Sokka back when they were children. I know you know. I know you know I know. I know you know I know you know. It was so hilarious she had to choke back a laugh. Lt. Ensei looked up, and took it as a choked sob.

"You disobeyed your commander, thereby indirectly causing the death of a fellow soldier," Lt. Ensei said, voice neutral and matter-of-fact. "It's up to the Emperor to decided what to do with you, when we get back to Kotzut."

Katara nodded. If she was lucky, she'd be able to stay in the Elites. If she was unlucky… she'd soon be out on the streets of Kotzut, a miserable failure without a job. But no job would be the least of her worries. She'd go back to Kyoshi, and everyone would know what had happened, that she'd ruined her people's one chance of survival.

"Now tell me what happened," Lt. Ensei said. "And the truth. I don't want fucking little sissy lines like 'I didn't see the arrow coming' or 'I had no idea the rebel was going to shoot'. Give the real truth."

I'll give you the truth all right. "I left the patrol," Katara swallowed. "Disobeyed your orders. I saw a rebel and I thought I could take him by myself. So I ran after him and I guess Hiro followed me. Then the rebel turned around to shoot me, but Hiro caught it in the chest instead."

Lt. Ensei's eyes were hard, probing. She looked him straight in the face.

"Get back to the camp," Lt. Ensei said. "It'll be your job to take care of Hiro's body until we get back to Kotzut. He will have a proper Elite's burial, not be left in some strange countryside for the vultures to pick over. He is your responsibility now."

Katara nodded. Hiro deserved more than a respectable burial. He deserved somebody who loved him.

But it was so hard to love a dead man.

Slowly, Katara poked another stick into the camp fire. Her fellow soldiers were asleep in the tent; she could hear Faozu's quiet snoring. She stayed outside, sitting between the fire and Hiro's body, keeping a vigil. It was unnecessary—nowhere did any rituals or traditions dictate that she had to do this. But she felt it was her duty, as his indirect murderer. She would stay with him this night, to protect him as well as she could, the way she hadn't when he was alive.

The fire blazed merrily, so at odds with her mood. She fed more wood into it, building it higher and higher. It was so dangerous, feeding the fire. But it quickly became addicting, feeling the heat on her face and the danger so close to her bones.

Maybe one day, if she ever went back to Kyoshi, she would see Kian again. And she would scream at him, beat him with her fists, pour out all of her hatred and regret, in front of a whole crowd of shocked villagers.

Then she would thank him.

I did it, so you wouldn't have to.

By killing Hiro, Kian had done the kindest thing he possibly could have in that situation. On one cold, emotionless level, Katara could think of it rationally. She could not have continued to let Hiro live after he had seen her Water bending, heard her talk to Kian like a Kyoshi rebel. Hiro had found her out, found out her ugly truth. His death had been a necessity. He would have jeopardized her entire mission.

But from the pain in her chest, the dried tears on her cheek, the aching guilt in her mind, she knew she wouldn't have been able to kill him, in the moment when it had really mattered.

Kian had saved Katara from that. Saved her from killing her friend, the one who had loved her. He had seen her hesitate, seen her beg Hiro to understand, seen how she was weak and soft and a coward. Kian was a warrior—he had done what had needed to be done.

Something Katara would never have been able to do.

I'm not a warrior. And I never will be.

Picking up another stick, Katara broke it again, and again into a hundred, a thousand, a billion pieces, the shredded wood scratching her skin and drawing blood from under her nails. She threw it into the fire, and watched it all go up in flames.

A/N: I had this chapter planned from the get-go. It's a catalyst for a lot of stuff coming up. As for the game of Pai Sho... I knew there was a lotus tile, from The Waterbending Scroll, but the monkey tile I made up. XD

I'm glad everybody liked that Zhao came back! He is the absolute funnest character to write. So twisted and malevolent and sneaky. I could write a billion fics about him, he's that great.

I am now officially a LTE groupie! –several reviewers
You guys made my day.

And post your livejournal name so I can visit you! --outsane
It's in the profile, m'dear. XD My "homepage" or whatever it's called.

Though I wouldn't necessarily think of Zhao is all-that charismatic or smooth-talking, I suppose an arguement could be made for it, seeing as he made his way fro Captain to Commander to Admiral within 2 years –Red Hawk K'sani
Exactly my thinking. Okay, my chronology might be wrong, but in Episode 3 is where we meet him, and when Zuko sees him, he says "Captain Zhao." But Zhao corrects him by saying "I'm Commander Zhao now." And then by The Blue Spirit Episode, we learn that Zhao's been promoted to Admiral! He's scaling that promotional ladder pretty fast, me thinks. Sneaky and smooth and charismatic is him. Not to mention intelligent.

Gladdecease—You are amazing. You pick up all the subtle hints and foreshadowing and underlying currents that I try to leave in here. Jeez. I bet you can read my mind as well.

why would Zuko be really mean to Katara on day and then try and protect her another:S –ditz4lyf
In my mind, Zuko was not protecting Katara when he punched Borr in the face. Remember what Borr said to Zuko when Zuko arrived? Borr had insulted Zuko as well—Zuko was protecting his own honor and pride. Maybe I didn't get that across so great.