CHAPTER FIVE:

Warnings

Prince Zuko rested on a pole in the sparring ring. His shallow and sparse breathing, desperately tried to enter his tired lungs. It had been a long time since he had sparred like that, and his muscles were straining just to stand up. He wanted to sit, but sitting was the worst thing he could do. Zuko reached for a glass of water and downed it with desperation. He walked around the ring in a circle, stretching his arms, letting the feeling come back to them, and drinking. Finally, his breathing came down to an even pace.

He breathed the stale scent of the sparring room: sweat, blood and tears…well, not so much tears. No. No tears had been shed here in a long time. It smelt like the sparring room of the Fire Palace. Memories crept through the dark corners of his mind. Hours practicing basic techniques; making sure that each was perfect to the very millimeter. Months of one-on-one combat: disarmament and pain…Agni, there had been plenty of pain to spread. Zuko closed his eyes, trying to push the memories back. Not now, not now, he told himself. Maybe later I'll run over these thoughts, but not now.

"Prince Zuko!" His cheery uncle called from above. The portly man walked down the stairs, a smile draped over his face.

"What, Uncle?" Zuko asked, thankful for the sudden arrival, allowing the thoughts to disperse like wild birds.

"What are you doing here? It's Music Night!" Zuko rolled his eyes. "I know that you don't…particularly (that was an under statement) enjoy Music Night, but it's such a beautiful evening. You should be enjoying the fresh air, not wasting away below the deck."

"I'm not wasting away," Zuko spat. He wasn't a people person. He wasn't a night person. He didn't want fresh air.

"Please. At least for five minutes? Fresh air is good for the body, especially after a long workout." Iroh, the old man, finally took a good look at the strained prince, the sweat and burn marks on the floor. "How long have you been down here?"

"A while," Zuko said, as vaguely as possible, avoiding his uncle's glance.

Iroh peered at his nephew with a stern eye, trying to get the real elapsed time from him. A while could mean anywhere from twenty minutes to four hours.

"Zuko…"

"A while! I swear; I haven't overexerted myself. I'm fine." His uncle heaved a worried sighed, giving Zuko a pang of guilt.

"Have you at least had some water? Remember that time when you were fifteen…?"

Zuko winced at the memory. He had been so determined to get a move right that he trained for four hours strenuously without any water. He woke up about three days after that little incident. Since then, water had added to Iroh's long list of nags.

"Yes, Uncle," Zuko said. Iroh's expression lightened. He wished to press on about the conditions Zuko was practicing under, but he thought best to remain silent.

"Please. Just come out for a little bit," Iroh pressed more.

Zuko was tired. He didn't have the energy to argue tonight. It would be easier to agree to his elderly uncle than to demand his peace and silence. He reached for a towel and dried his neck and back.

"All right. But only for a few minutes."

Iroh smiled. Zuko threw on his shirt and followed his elderly relative up the stairs.

He was right, Zuko thought as they reached the deck. It is a nice night. It was a clear night: the stars could be seen for miles out. There seemed to be an influx of those flickering lights since they passed the port. A milky-like sheen passed from the east to the west of the sky. He could see variation of the star's color, from red to blue and to yellow: a phenomenon that he'd only seen twice in his life. That one time when he was six and the other time…

The air was still, caring a warm breeze. The sea was sloshing lazily at their sides, and they were traveling a steady pace.

Music filled Zuko's ears, taking him away with a distant memory.

"Won't you join us?" Iroh asked, prodding the young boy. He snapped back into reality; his memories fading like dying embers. He was already walking to the small campfire they had set up.

"Uncle…" Zuko said with exhaustion. "I really, really don't want to play the Sungi horn tonight."

"You don't have to. Just come out and enjoy the air and indulge in the music. Music's good for the soul." Iroh smiled. Zuko raised his one eyebrow. Weird…akward…moment…

"Uncle," Zuko pleaded as Iroh dragged him to the small ring of men. He was tired. He just wanted to get some sleep. Fatigue was even clouding his desire to find the Avatar.

"Prince Zuko!" Lieutenant Jee said merrily. The Admiral held a canteen filled with high spirits, taking a hearty swig of it. "How nice of you to drop in!" Zuko rolled his eyes. I'm here against my will. "Come lads, what shall we play for the young Fire Prince here?" Naturally, a clash of song names exploded from the nearly drunk soldiers. "Quiet down, quiet down! Do you want to wake the spirits?" He gave a jovial laugh.

"What do you want to hear, Hai?" Jee asked. Hai was a young recruit picked up not too long ago. He was a timid young man, no older than fifteen.

Hai whispered something, hardly audible to Zuko who was sitting a person away from him.

"Speak up, lad! You're one of us. There's nothing to be afraid of." Jee shot a look at Zuko. The boy had a streak of racism in him.

"Summer's End," Hai said stronger. The crowd oohed. It took all of his self-control not to make a movement. He had to keep his composure. No emotion, no emotion, no emotion: his mantra. He couldn't help the tirade of memories pushing through to the front of his mind. He bit his bottom lip; holding all the emotion behind him.

"Well! That's a particularly difficult song. A song that requires a Sungi horn player I do believe…" Jee gave Zuko an encouraging look, eyes glistening with a drunken stupor. Zuko hated the man. Seriously, he hated this man. Glaring at him, he began to leave: anger skyrocketing to almost breaking point. Playing was the last thing he wanted to do. The absolute last thing he wanted to do.

Zuko began to stand when his uncle lightly held him down.

"Do it for Akida," Iroh said softly in his good ear. "She hasn't heard the song that brought her only son to sleep in seconds in a long time." Zuko paused. Akida…the former Fire Lady…his mother.

He tried to push the barging childhood memories.

Jee pulled the Sungi horn from behind him and gave it to Zuko. The crewmen cheered as Zuko took the instrument from the middle-aged admiral. Zuko glared at Jee, his single good eye telling Jee that he hated his guts and that he owed him so much after that night.

He sat in the center, next to the burning fire. He placed his lips over the mouthpiece, took a deep breath and began to play the haunting first notes.

Physically, he was still on the ship. Mentally, he had fallen into a trench of unforgiving recollections.

"Mom!" A young boy, roughly five years old said. He bounded from the steps in the West Garden. His mother was walking through the cement paths, admiring the flowers and shrubbery. She turned to greet her son. A warm smile draped her face, her honey colored eyes shining in the sun.

"Zuko. What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be with your father and uncle?"

"I can't find them," Zuko said. "So I came out here."

"Well, I hope they know where to find you," Akida laughed. Her son outreached his arms, requesting to be lifted. Akida propped Zuko on her hipbone. "Where to, my son?" Zuko looked around. He had seen much of the palace already—a result of his burning curiosity. But he hadn't seen this part of the palace just yet. The armory and the library were always his favorite places over the gardens. Well, if there was a time for some quality mother-son bonding, this was a prime opportunity. Zuko pointed in the western direction. His mother beamed and trekked towards the Lower Quarters.

The only way to reach the Lower Quarters was down a pair of old, decapitating stairs. Branches of trees draped down, attempting to reach the dirt ground. The sky faded away, a stream of light trickling through the sparse leaves like rain. Akida began to hum a bittersweet song. Zuko watched the surroundings pass him with taut inquisitiveness. They reached a clearing.

The trees folded around the area, as if they were bowing to the respective royals. Akida's eye lit up with recognition. "Oh! It hasn't changed!" She sat Zuko down. "This is where my cousin and I used to practice firebending! I can't believe it's still here!" A fire emerged over her hand, licking the palm and the fingers. Her eyes looked into it, fading in her childhood. Little Zuko began to entertain himself with his own firebending and the dirt. Reminiscing

"Zuko! Get out of there." She picked up her son again. "Now when we get back, you're going to have to take a bath." He wrinkled his nose. "And I know how fond you are of personal hygiene." She sighed. "Well, then. Let's get going." As they walked back up the stairs, Akida hummed the song again.

"Momma, what's that?" Zuko asked, leaning his head in the curve of his mother's neck.

"A song. One of my favorites. It's called, 'Summer's End.' I used to play this really well on the Sungi horn."

"Can you teach me?" She stopped and looked at her son quizzically. Normally, people hated playing the Sungi horn for it's lack of main melodies. However, "Summer's End" was one of those few songs that the deep, entrancing melodies of the Sungi horn could pull off.

"Of course, my son. Of course."

Emerging from this bittersweet memory, Zuko played the final note. Reality began to fall back in place. He was no longer three in the protective arms of his protective mother in the Fire Nation Palace. He was almost 17 years, banished, and his mother had been long dead. He stared at the instrument in his hands. He picked up the Sungi horn because of his mother.

I'm sorry I wasn't there, he thought.

He looked up, his usual hard, cold demeanor back on his face. The crew gaped at him. Only Jee, Iroh and Hai looked at him understanding. None expected the crowned prince to give such an emotional performance. The silence was overwhelming. He exposed a part of himself that he'd rather stay hidden. utter and complete crap

"What are you looking at?" Zuko demanded. He stood up, threw the instrument on the ground. "I told you I didn't want to play," he mumbled as he walked away from the circle.

He hated music night. Hated it. Spite and malice shot through his veins. Fire licked the area around his fingertips, sinuously gliding up his arm. He could feel the anger and its energy pulsating through his body, almost to the breaking point.

He burst into the sparring room; exploding with punches, kicks and profanities. Fire shot through his extremities.

The heat in the room was soaring to extreme temperatures. Sweat poured down his face and back.

He threw his shirt off and continued to fight his demons.

"Zuko…Zuko!" Iroh called. The old man tried to get into the sparring room, but it was locked.

Zuko pretended not to hear his uncle's voice. He couldn't stop.

He had to keep going,

had to keep going,

had to keep going!

Getting air in his lungs was a daunting task.

His muscles begged him to stop.

The rising temperature begged for release.

The metal sheeting in the corners began to turn hot white and slightly melt.

He was in his own domain now.

Kick, punch, swing, inhale, exhale, release, repeat.

The air wavered with the heat.

There was no air.

The room became dark.

The air was gone.

No more.

bandgeek's music corner

This chapter, is for you guys. That's right! You, reading this…right now! This is for you! All of you. This is the first time that I have ever, EVER received 50 reviews in my history of fanfiction writing. For that, I thank you. You have my eternal gratitude. :bows: All of you who are reading kick ass, that's all I can say. You KICK ASS!

Well…for all you kick ass readers/reviewers, how did you like the chapter? Is Zuko too OOC? He's a tricky lil' bastard to write, so hope that it was in character enough and enjoyable. And when's the Zutara coming in? Sorry, no can reveal right now. I will say that your patience will pay off soon…or will it:evil chuckle:

Well then, next chapter shall be, I declare…Iroh & Zuko. This chapter is a little bastard too, so it'll be a while till the next update. However, this chapter is roughly 6 pages on MSWord, so you guys better be happy! Can you beleive that I was planning on this only being 10 chapters? Oh, and if anyone's good at writing fight scenes, PM me soon because I'm getting there...and I suck and battle scenes, if this strange angst-scene was anything to show for it.

That's all for now! So, hit the mauve button and make me happy! l8r...

Kai : D