Katara

I'm glad we left Ember Island Theatre so quickly. My makeup is starting to wear down, if somebody saw me…

I launch myself throw the house's door still covering the lines on my chin.

"You want some help to put your makeup back on, Katara?" Aang asks. "I'm kinda the expert at keeping secret tattoos."

"Yeah, Sugar Queen. I would offer to help with that myself but… you know…" Her hands wave exaggeratedly in front of her eyes. "Blind."

All my friends are entering our Ember Island house – I mean, Zuko's Ember Island house calmly, unhurriedly, while I observe hidden in the shadows.

"It's fine, guys," I say, "We're gonna stay in for the rest of the night anyway, there's no need to cover my tattoos. I'll be in my room in case anybody sees me."

"But we're already inside – "

I run to my bedroom and shut the door behind me before anyone can finish their sentence. (And I becoming paranoid like Sokka?) (Is that genetic?)

Well, nobody can blame me for being paranoid about this. If I was recognized as a waterbender because of my Water Tribe markings while we are inside the Fire Nation…

I go to the drawers where I keep my makeup – a face powder Suki helped me prepare with clay and her own ingredients for her warrior face paint – and another water vial for cleaning it. I don't use my bending, I just pour the water into a piece of discarded fabric and start wiping the powder off from my chin. And my right shoulder. I take away the rings that I use to cover the ones on my fingers and wash my hands, too.

It hurts to keep these a secret. I wonder if this is how Aang feels all the time.

Someone knocks on my door.

"Coming."

It's Zuko.

Unsurprisingly, he looks like he doesn't know what to say after I open the door: "Hey! Um… You seemed kind of tense back there. Do you want to talk?"

I have to smile at the effort he's making. (He's… not the most conversational person.) "No, I'm fine. It's just a little difficult to keep a secret identity with…," I gesture to my face, "You know."

"Right," the word does sound tense between his teeth. "I'm sorry that you have to keep your tattoos a secret to begin with. Sokka told me what they mean; they are for celebrating your accomplishments at the Water Tribe, right?"

"Yes; see?" I point to the lines on my chin. "The ones on the chin are for celebrating a girl's entrance to womanhood."

"You still have some of the face paint on," he says after staring at the dark lines for a moment, "Um… Do you want help for taking it off?"

It takes me a moment to realize that I am blushing, and then to wonder why am I blushing. I agree quickly to push the weird feeling away: "Yeah. Sure, why not?"

I open the door further and step aside for Zuko to come in. Self-consciousness stings me once I realize the foundation is also only partially removed on my hands and my shoulder, it looks like I had only been playing in the mud. Toph wouldn't care about that, but I…

"I didn't know you had a tattoos on your hands and…"

Zuko trails off as his cheeks color when his eyes land on my exposed shoulder. The design of that particular tattoo is a pattern that extends through my clavicle and all over the exposed right side of my chest due to my one-cold-shoulder Fire Nation top.

"Well, that means I have done a good job hiding them," I say jokingly, pulling a triumphant face.

He looks down, embarrassed. "Right. Sorry. It's just that… It looks… It looks like they were painful. Are you – I mean, were you…"

"Zuko, I'm fine if that's what you're wondering," I emphasize, standing in front of him so he can see me better in the shadowiness of the room. "And yes, the tattoos were painful," I rub the back of my hands easing the memory of the sensation, "but they were something I wanted. It's a waterbender's dream to get these."

Suddenly I feel the heat of his hands over mine before I look down at them. My skin became reddish for the friction I put into scrubbing them, Zuko is keeping me from causing some unnecessary damage. His hands are well-formed and kept, mine look smaller in them.

"I'm glad you accomplished your dream," he says, sincerely, "And… again, I'm sorry you have to hide them. When… When the war is over, I'll make sure you never have to hide yourself again."

I smile, (for the promise and the extra effort he's putting into being optimistic.) "Thanks."

"Besides, I like them." One of his hands goes up to my chin. His thumb brushes the remnants of powder off from it. "They… They look pretty."