Zuko is tired. He's not in the mood for dealing with meetings and shady politicians. While he has a duty to the Fire Nation he also has a duty to himself. Getting burnt out would help no one in the long run, and it took a lot of time to repair a war torn nation without starting a new war or provoking a civil war.
Lately he has found refuge in a nondescript friendly restaurant with the best food in town. He usually prefers to go there when it isn't rush hour, but sometimes it can't be helped. As excellent as the food at the palace is it's just not the same as going out.
He left a written note on the head guard's office door in case they realize he's gone. After the last time he finds it's better to prepare, but he's not dumb enough to tell her directly. He'd be saddled with guards for days and it would require planning. And clearing streets. And making a Big Deal out of everything, which was precisely what he wanted to avoid. How hard could it be to get some peace and quiet without confining himself to the royal chambers?
He makes his escape still dressed in his casual office clothes. He likes to imagine he's stealthy but it's probably got more to do with that his hair is let down. For some reason people tended to ignore him when he did that, which was a good thing. They probably didn't want to bother him on his down time, unlike all the impolite politicians who hounded him constantly.
Rush hour is an obstacle to get through but he feels himself relaxing as he takes in the bustle of the city. Many of his people are making last minute purchases on the way home from work, others are picking up their kids from school. Merchants shout out bargain deals at every corner down the main street.
He finds the entrance of the restaurant vacant, so he kindly waits by the hostess's stand. It's not like he's made a reservation. They were probably busy since it was rush hour. He couldn't help but feel a bit bad for showing up at that time of the day but he just wanted out of the palace and get some fresh air.
From the restaurant he hears fast paced footsteps, and suddenly Hana is there again. He flashes her a smile.
"Hello young lord." She greets him, recognizing him from his regular visits.
"Good afternoon, Hana."
"Table for one?" she asks, all business.
He nods in agreement when a family of three added to the queue behind him. The parents seemed unhurried but the child, a boy perhaps four years old, was antsy. Hana flips through the reservations and glanced at the clock nearby.
"There is a spot in fifteen minutes top." She calculated quickly, flipping through her notes. When someone works in a restaurant long enough they know what they're doing, and she's great at estimating how long people would stay. Comes with the job.
"That's alright, I'll wait." He politely stepped to the side so the next party could step forward.
"Table for three. Lieutenant Shibuya." The uniformed woman seemed like the no nonsense type, but he also spied the hand snugly fit with the other woman's. She seemed to be a civilian, as was evident by her relaxed pose.
Hana was just about to let them in when a fighting couple stormed past them out of the restaurant. In their hurry they accidentally pushed the child to the ground. Their shouts of who had betrayed who and what dishes had to do with it, Zuko would never know. The child's wails tore through the air like a wounded animal. How such small lungs could make such a loud noise, he'd never know.
The lieutenant and her wife tried to calm down the child but he had decided that he was more angry than sad. Uh oh. A sad child wanted to be soothed and heard. An angry child wanted revenge.
"Are you hurt?" Lieutenant Shibuya kneeled in front of her son. Her wife laid a hand on his shoulder in support. "Did you hit anything?"
Though he could hardly have been hurt by the short fall the child held out his hand anyway, glaring through his tears. His mother blew gently on the hand, soothing the child. "Better?" she asked kindly.
"No." said the child sourly. The hand didn't seem to be the issue now. The child turned to Zuko. "Why didn't you stop them?" the child sniffed. "My teacher said it's mean to push people."
The women looked at each other in disbelief.
"Dear, that's not his fault. He was not the one who pushed you." The Lieutenant's wife tried to reason with him. She shot him an apologetic look.
Zuko also crouched down next to the kid, trying to look as nice as possible. He had practiced his nice face after his friend pointed out he looked like a lunatic. With this new skill acquired he felt ready to face the child. "I'm sorry. I didn't see them because they were super-fast. I promise to look out better next time, ok?"
The boy dropped the glare and rubbed his fist in his wet eyes, in the way children do. His fine motor skills probably didn't allow him the precise coordination to use just his fingers.
"What's your name?" Zuko asked in hopes of not upsetting the child further.
"Tizan." He mumbled, suddenly shy.
"That's a great name." Zuko affirmed. "My name is Zuko, it's very nice to meet you, Tizan."
He put his hands in the traditional fire nation greeting, a fist against the flat of his hand. Tizan returned the greeting, albeit a little slower and a bit off centre.
"Zuko like the Fire Lord?" Tizan asked curiously, probably recognizing him from the posters that the schools obsessed with. For his life he couldn't see a reason to have his face on the wall, but they insisted. Traditions could not be changed quickly after all.
Lieutenant Shibuya rose to her feet, and Zuko did the same.
"Yeah, exactly like the Fire Lord." He confirmed.
"Well, now that that's settled, how about we get something to eat?" the Lieutenant asked her son with encouragement. Thank you, she mouthed to Zuko. He gave her a nod, and the family went into the restaurant.
Hana turned to him smugly when they were out of hearing range. "I didn't take you for the type."
He looked on her as if she'd grown an extra head, which made her elaborate. "You know, good with kids and all. You're like an expert."
"Oh, well. Just got to have a bit of patience."
He did not elaborate more on that, but they carried an easy conversation until a table was free for him. Somehow the day felt a little bit less hopeless than before.