Out of all the jobs Jikai has ever done, this was always going to be the hardest.

Not everyday did Jikai get a job from the Prince himself. This job was going to be the most important one he's ever done. He could feel it. He spent the day sharpening his best knives. Whomever the Prince wanted dead was going to die by his hand. Adrenaline coursed through his veins.

Serving the great nation was every citizens' dream. Jikai may not be as patriotic as the rest of his family, seeing as he couldn't firebend, but he still had that Fire Nation pride .

Jikai snorted. He had as much pride as an assassin could have. He didn't like calling himself an assassin, considering it was mostly illegal, but it was the best title for the job he had. Jikai liked to say he was ' tying up loose ends with very sharp tools,' but he wasn't naive. He knew what his job truly was.

His family never approved of his line of work—how could they, he killed people —but war was war. Everyone died eventually. He could never figure out why he shouldn't make money off of that. Death was a natural occurrence, whether or not his knives were involved.

Besides, he didn't see them all too much. He cut ties with them. Safer for him, and for them. His father wouldn't stop spouting nonsense about honor, and Jikai's apparent lack of it. Jikai couldn't care less for his father's idiocy.

Honor didn't stop earthbenders from killing over half of his entire family.

His services were frequently bought by nobles, usually requiring him to silence their political opposition.

He was never conscripted to fight in the foolish war, since his family paid off a few government officials. Perks of being wealthy, he supposed.

Prince Ozai had mentioned the meeting spot being outside the palace, just past the courtyards. As Jikai waited underneath the trees, avoiding being seen, he saw his employer.

Prince Ozai knew how to disguise himself when needed, it appeared. Clothed in head to toe black, no one would've seen him in the dead of night.

Over his shoulder, laid a limp body. Quite smaller than Prince Ozai himself. Jikai couldn't see very well, but he was sure half of the person's face was rotted. All gnarly and bloody. Jikai couldn't imagine what could make someone's face look that way.

"Hayashi Jikai?" The second oldest Prince asked, his voice monotone. "I heard you're the best in your line of work..or so they say."

"Yes, your Highness?" Jikai bowed deeply. Even if this was an informal meeting by all accounts, respect was necessary.

"I see you came prepared." Prince Ozai gestured to the many knives adorning Jikai's body. "Good."

Jikai pursed his lips, taking note of all the Prince's movements. "What may I do for you, my Prince?"

Prince Ozai dropped the extra body onto the ground, right before Jikai's feet. The boy—as Jikai now clearly saw—rolled over, showcasing his injury to Jikai. Jikai was no firebender, but he had seen burns. This kid had been intentionally burned, and he was near death. Jikai nostrils stung from the smell of burnt flesh.

"I want you to dispose of the body," Prince Ozai said, unbothered by the putrid sight. "I want him gone before morning."

"You want me to act as a body disposal service, your Highness?"

"Watch your tone," The Prince warned. "I will not tolerate disrespect. You are to deliver the boy to the Earth Kingdom, where his corpse will be discovered by near troops. Or Earth Kingdom simpletons. Makes no difference to me."

The boy could be no older than twelve. Jikai resisted the urge to puke. He had seen many, many gruesome and gory deaths, but they were all adults. They were all guilty. Nothing this child could have done could be as bad as their crimes.

None of his victims were ever children.

He didn't want to start now.

"Isn't this...isn't this the youngest Prince?" Jikai asked aloud. The kid had the signature Fire Nation look. Pale skin, dark hair. If he were to open his eyes, Jikai is certain they'd be gold in colour.

He poked the boy with his shoe, clearly getting a view of his non-scarred side. The kid looked exactly like the elder Prince. This must've been the youngest Prince, Lu Ten. Or was it La Teen? He could never remember.

No, it was Zuko.

"Prince Zuko?"

If Jikai remembered correctly, this was Prince Ozai's son.

"Not anymore. Prince Zuko was never worthy of his title, nor his bloodline. He was weak." The elder Prince said, his tone flat. Jikai noticed the use of past tense when speaking about his son. "I have prepared a ship for you to leave the port in. Take his corpse somewhere, anywhere. I don't care."

Jikai picked up the boy, who was as light as a feather. The boy's wet breathing and coughs were audible to both Jikai and Prince Ozai, yet only Jikai winced, or showed any outward reaction. His employer didn't so much as blink.

The boy was on the brink of death. At this rate, Jikai wouldn't even have to lift a finger to get the job done.

"Father…" The kid mumbled, his voice quieter than a whisper. "It hurts…"

"As you wish, your Highness. It shall be done." Jikai replied, as he flung the weak child over his shoulder.

"Good," Prince Ozai said, as he reached into his pocket. The Prince laid his palm out, a bag of gold displayed. "Here is your payment. That should suffice for someone like you."

Jikai snatched the bag from the Prince. At the end of the day, it was just another job. Money was still money.

"The Prince will be gone before sunrise." Jikai agreed. "You have my word."

"See to it that he is. I wouldn't want something unfortunate to happen to you..or your family, Hayashi Jikai."

Jikai nodded. He knew a thinly veiled threat when he heard one. The Prince would be gone by morning.

"It will be done."

Jikai waited patiently at the dock, the Prince in hand. The ship Prince Ozai promised hadn't arrived yet.

"Hayashi Jikai?" Someone called out. "Is there a Hayashi Jikai over there?"

"Yes?" Jikai answered, following the sound of the original voice. Standing outside of a rickety, barely put together ship, a man stood, his badge signifying his rank as a captain. Jikai did a double take, because this couldn't possibly be the ship Prince Ozai wanted him to use. Jikai couldn't see any other ship in the dock, however.

This was the ship he was supposed to use? This was nothing more than a scrap.

"We have your ship here. It'll take you to the outer islands, but that's about it." The man said, as he rubbed his eye.

"This is the ship Prince Ozai wants me to use?" Jikai couldn't keep the incredulity out of his voice. "Is he serious?"

The other man didn't bat an eyelash. "Yes. I was told you were transporting very important cargo, and this is what you were to use."

Jikai snarled at the man. "He should've gotten me a better ship. How does he expect this piece of junk to fare against the sea? We'll die before we reach land."

Jikai wouldn't live to see Agni's rays again if he went in that ship. Along with the Prince, he'd die a watery death. What was the Prince thinking with this ship? Jikai wouldn't survive...unless that was the point. The Prince and his would-be assassin drowned at sea. It worked as a cover story if they didn't reach enemy territory.

That bastard.

The man merely shrugged, unbothered by Jikai's tantrum. "Not well, I'd imagine. If I were you, kid, I'd get a different ship. If you know what I mean."

"I don't think I can." Jikai growled, the Prince murmuring mindlessly against him. "Damn it."

"Then you're screwed."

"Thanks."

Jikai had very few options.

He could kill the Prince, and throw his body into the water. Eventually, the Prince would wash ashore, and some unfortunate Fire Nation citizen would find him. There would be a massive funeral, and the entire nation would mourn, blah blah. It's all very dramatic.

But...Jikai didn't want to kill the Prince, and he didn't think he could. He couldn't kill a kid, it just wasn't something he could do. He'd been hired to dispose of the boy, but he didn't think he could. The boy would die from an infection. Jikai wouldn't have to dirty any of his knives.

Prince Zuko probably wasn't even thirteen yet, and his father wanted him dead.

"Father?" The boy mumbled into Jikai's side. Jikai placed the boy down, allowing him space to slump over. From this position, Jikai could see the wound much better. It was ugly and gross and terrible. Jikai had seen third degree burns before, and this was one of the worst he'd ever seen. Did Prince Ozai just press a torch to the kid's face? "I'm sorry...I'll do better next time….I'll be like Azula…"

The kid was clearly experiencing a nightmare. He thrashed, and kicked in all directions. "Father...stop...stop burning me….stop!" He cried, tears streaming down the right side of his face. Jikai wasn't sure what to do. He could comfort the kid, but that might wake him up. Then again, letting this run its course might wake the kid up anyway.

"Uh, there there." Jikai awkwardly patted the kid's shoulder. He didn't know how to be 'soothing.' "You'll be fine, Prince Zuko."

Through bleary eyes, the Prince looked up at him. There was no sign of recognition on his face. "Father? Is that you?"

Jikai didn't respond. He had a creeping feeling that this was going to be an uncomfortable conversation.

Zuko sighed. "I know it's you Father, and I'm sorry. I'll do better next time, I promise."

Jikai watched the Prince apologize absentmindedly.

"I'm sure you will," Jikai replied, a numb feeling spreading through his head.

"I'll be as good as Azula. I'll make you proud."

Jikai couldn't stomach it. The kid didn't deserve to be spouting nonsense right before he died. Gently, he moved the Prince over, so he could pressure point his neck. It wasn't sleep, but it was close enough.

The kid's chest moved up and down, in rapid motions. It would be all too easy to just slit his throat now, and let him die. All Jikai had to do was take out his knife, and do what he was paid to. Seeing the kid curl in on himself, his right side facing the port, his left tucked into the crook of his arm, Jikai couldn't help but wonder. Wonder what might've been had this kid not been royalty, had his father not burned half his face off. Jikai didn't know the hardships this kid had faced. The boy was a Prince; how hard could his life have possibly been? He had servants, chefs, anything he could have wanted. The world would be better off without him if the boy's father himself wanted him dead.

Jikai grabbed one of his knives, and pressed the blade against the skin of Zuko's neck. He could dig a little deeper. He'd done this many times before. The skin turned red. Red like the blood dripping from his facial wound.

Really, Jikai should just put him down. There was no point in living like this. The kid would die from an infection, or sickness anyway. There was no point in prolonging his suffering. Jikai could flick his wrist, kill him in his sleep. The Prince's peaceful, yet destroyed face peered up at him. His eyes were closed, and fluttering. A dream, maybe. Jikai wondered what he would dream of. Would he dream of Prince Ozai?

Agni, the kid couldn't be older than eleven, and his father tried to assassinate him. Usually, Jikai mused, it was the other way around.

No. Jikai couldn't kill him, but he couldn't save him either.

He stretched his arms, and lifted the Prince back over his shoulder.

He'd find a way. Somehow.

The next ship out of Caldera was a cargo ship, filled with supplies for the Fire Nation soldiers on the front line. It led to the Earth Kingdom, the colonies in specific. At least, that's what Jikai assumed. He never really paid attention to the military. This could be a ship full of prisoners, and he would be none the wiser. However, it's the best the kid's going to get.

Jikai was going to sneak the boy onto it. Most times, there were medical officers onboard the cargo ships. Jikai didn't know whether or not they would even treat Prince Zuko, but it was his best chance. He prayed that the boy wouldn't reveal his name. If they knew they had the Prince aboard their ship...he didn't want to think about what could happen to him if the boy was found alive. Luckily, he didn't look much like a Prince anymore, with the giant burn covering half his face. No one would believe him.

And so Jikai hid the Prince behind the crates of food, and never looked back. The prince's fate was up to the Spirits' to decide.

When the sun rose, the Prince was gone.

Jikai stayed true to his word.