Disclaimer: I do not own ATLA or LoK.

CHAPTER 5

For several moments, Zuko could only stare uncomprehendingly at the words. Uncle was here, somehow, and trying to contact him. His mind whirled. Perhaps Zuko was supposed to end up in this place, and his uncle knew to meet him here. Maybe he could guide Zuko toward whatever it was he needed to find, then help him get back to his own life.

He sat on the bed gingerly, examining the object until the sound of the waterbender's voice came from next to him. He nearly jumped out of his skin, not having heard her approach. "What is that? Is—does that say 'Uncle Iroh'?"

Zuko turned to her with wide eyes and could only nod dumbly. She was looking at the small instrument in his hands, her brows pulled together. Suddenly her hand reached out to touch it, and the image changed.

The word from before, 'Voicemail,' was displayed above a list of names and numbers against a white background. Uncle's name was at the top of the list, and there was a small blue dot next to it.

"How did you do that?" demanded Zuko, still gawking at the device. From the corner of his eye, he saw the girl shrug. "I just poked it to see what would happen."

Huh. Okay. Shaking his head, Zuko touched Uncle Iroh's name, and the image changed again. He could not decipher any of the symbols that appeared, but he did hear the unmistakable sound of his uncle's gravelly voice.

"Zuko, it's me. Where are you?" Zuko started to respond but was cut off when Uncle kept speaking. "Your shift started an hour ago. Did you oversleep again? Call me right away."

Nothing that Zuko had just heard made sense to him. He glanced at the girl, who shrugged again. "Maybe you should call him."

He scoffed. "Oh, excellent advice. Let me just call him. What does that even mean?"

There was no need to find out because the thing started vibrating in his hand once again. It lit up with the word 'TranquiliTea' shown at the top. A red circle on the bottom left said 'Decline' and a green circle on the right said 'Accept'.

He panicked. "What do I do?!"

She rolled her eyes. "Obviously, you should accept it." She pressed her finger to the green circle.

The picture changed again, and Zuko was beginning to feel that the learning curve of this place might be too steep for him. Then, Uncle's voice rang out once again. "Hello? Zuko, are you there?"

His heart soared. "Uncle!"

"Zuko, I can hardly hear you. Did you put me on speakerphone?"…Speakerphone? He brought his face closer to the device. "Hello? Uncle, can you hear me?"

"Ah, that's much better. Are you okay? Where are you? Why haven't you been answering my calls?"

Zuko glanced at the waterbender, who was watching him coolly. "Umm. I'm fine." He didn't know how to answer the second question, so he repeated it. "Where are you?"

There was a pause, and for a despairing moment, Zuko thought Uncle was gone, but then he spoke again with a twinge of confusion in his tone. "Zuko, I've been waiting for you at the shop for over an hour. You know we can't open until you get here, and there are customers outside. Did you forget about your shift?"

So, this Zuko worked for his uncle—he glanced again at the word 'TranquiliTea'—in a tea shop. Go figure.

"Uh. No! Of course not. I'll be there soon. Sorry, Uncle." Perhaps the Iroh he knew had not planned to meet Zuko here, but surely the other one could somehow help him.

"Not to worry. I'm just glad you're alright. See you soon." A beeping sound rang out from the device, and the Voicemail list appeared once again.

He turned to meet the girl's gaze. Her eyes were narrowed in suspicion. "Off to work, then?"

He glared at her. "Look, I want to get out of here as much as you do. If anyone here can help us, it's my uncle."

She held his stare for a moment longer, then seemed to accept his response. Without another word, she stood and stalked in the direction of the kitchen, for seemingly no other reason than to be as far from Zuko as the space allowed. He was too anxious to respond with anything but a sigh.

Rummaging through the drawers under the bed, he found a new black shirt and a pair of gray pants. The latter looked similar to those that the waterbender was wearing. He made his way to the washroom, resisting the urge to peek over at her as he did so. After quickly changing into the clean clothes, he moved to the water basin. Washing the last traces of dried blood from his arms, he glanced again at his reflection in the small mirror that hung there.

I used to think this scar marked me—the mark of the Banished Prince, cursed to chase the Avatar forever. But lately, I've realized I'm free to determine my own destiny, even if I'll never be free of my mark.

He had made several choices about his destiny since then—choices he wasn't sure were entirely his own. Now, here he was, finally free of that cursed mark, untethered by it. Was this his chance to finally, finally choose his own destiny?

Maybe he was supposed to accept this new challenge. After all, he had wished for years for that scar to disappear. He would never forget the feeling in his chest when the waterbender had offered to heal it.

He tore his eyes away from the mirror and stepped back through to the main room. There was no time, now, to contemplate his place in this world or any other world. Uncle was waiting for him.

Electing to take the vibrating device with him if Uncle contacted him again, he pocketed it and made for the front door. As he opened it, his eyes fell back onto her. She was sitting at the small wooden table examining another of the little devices, identical to his. He briefly wondered how many more of them there might be in the apartment.

"See you," he murmured. She looked up and nodded curtly before returning her attention to the object of her focus. Next to the door, Zuko caught sight of two small sets of keys hanging on a hook. Grabbing one on his way out, he hurried down the stairs and outside.

Zuko noticed immediately that the street was far busier during the day. People strolled along the walkway. Some of them walked in pairs or with animals of varying sizes on leashes. He observed a significant increase in the number of vehicles racing by that looked somewhat like less-armored versions of Fire Nation war tanks. A few smaller vehicles rolled along in their own marked section of the road. The riders perched on seats, suspended above two wheels, gripping onto a bar attached to the front and pedaling to keep the wheels turning. All of the shops that had been closed early that morning were open and bustling. Nearly everyone crowding the walkway had a little vibrating device, and many of them stared down at theirs as they walked.

He had seen enough now to draw the conclusion that questioning his surroundings would turn his brain to soup, so he chose to merely accept what he was seeing.

Surveying the street, Zuko realized he had absolutely no idea where his uncle's tea shop was. Determining that trying to find his own way would likely be a waste of time, he approached a girl walking toward him that looked a few years older than he was—or, he supposed, she was his age in this reality.

"Excuse me," he called to her. Her expression was wary as she pulled what looked like two strings out of her ears and regarded him. "I'm looking for a tea shop. It's called, uh, TranquiliTea. Do you know where that is?"

The woman visibly relaxed after hearing his question. "Sorry, I don't." Perhaps something in his face seemed to convince her to help him further because she stopped to pull out her device. It was connected, somehow, to the ear strings. "TranquiliTea, you said?" He nodded, and her thumbs rapidly tapped the thing in her hands.

"According to my phone, it's on Guoyuan and Stanton, about three blocks that way," she pointed down the street. "Turn right up there, and walk another two blocks."

Truthfully, Zuko could not hope to understand her instructions. Still, he was pleased to know now what the little vibrating device was called. He gave her a small smile and thanked her without pressing her to clarify what she said.

He assumed a 'block' marked each crossing in the road, where the miniature war tanks zoomed by, and the little signs told him to stop or walk. He had figured that last part out by watching other people do it, though some people walked despite the sign telling them to stop. So, he would cross three of those intersections, then turn right to cross another two of them.

Easy enough.

As he made to turn toward where the woman had pointed, the sound of her voice stopped him. He had not noticed that she was still standing there, now scrutinizing him.

"Hey. Are you by chance related to Ozai Nakaya?"

Zuko's eyes widened a fraction. Maybe it was just a coincidence. "Uh, no."

Her face fell. "Oh. Well, you look just like him. I bet you get that a lot." After a brief pause, he nodded stiffly. The woman seemed to sense his discomfort and gave him a slight wave before walking away.

Zuko released the breath he didn't realize he was holding. It didn't occur to him that his father could be here, too. He would need to interrogate Uncle about that later.

Iroh stepped back into the shop with a sigh after having gone out to apologize again to the waiting customers.

"I can work the register for a while until Zuko gets here. Everything's all ready to go back here."

Iroh smiled warmly at his son. "That's alright, Lu Ten. I'm sure he will be here any minute. I'll just have him close a little bit later than usual tonight."

As if on cue, his nephew stumbled into the shop, staring around dazedly. He was wearing sweatpants and had the disheveled look of someone who had just rolled out of bed. When his gaze met Iroh's, he appeared to do a double-take. "Uncle," he breathed.

"Good morning, Zuko," he greeted with a slight frown. "You don't look so good. Are you sure you're feeling alright?" Iroh edged toward his nephew to place a hand on his shoulder.

Lu Ten snickered as he emerged from the back room. "Got a little too busy with Katara last night, eh?"

Iroh shot his son a glare before turning back to Zuko, who was now looking at his cousin like he was seeing a ghost. He stayed that way for several seconds, and the lengthening silence was quickly becoming uncomfortable. Iroh knew his nephew to be an exceedingly sensitive person, but surely he was used to Lu Ten's teasing by now.

"Lu Ten?" Zuko whispered as if saying the name any louder would cause his cousin to disappear.

Lu Ten shifted uncomfortably under his cousin's stare. "Umm. Yeah. In the flesh. You good there, Zuko?"

Iroh squeezed where his hand still rested on his nephew's shoulder. Zuko looked down and blinked a few times, seeming to collect himself before, with evident effort, he smiled. "Yeah, sorry. Just didn't sleep well." He shrugged Iroh's hand off and headed toward the back room, taking a punch in the arm from Lu Ten as he went. Iroh glanced apprehensively at his son, who merely shrugged before returning to the pot of boba on the stove.

After a gentle reminder that it was Zuko's job to work the register, Iroh watched him with deepening concern for the next hour. It was as if he had never seen, let alone operated, the machine in his life. The first time a customer handed him a credit card, he looked at them like they were from another planet. There was no improvement when customers paid by cash—he wasn't giving anyone their correct change. On top of it all, several customers complained that their orders were incorrect.

A long line was beginning to form in front of the register, and Iroh had never witnessed Zuko look so flustered. At one point, he could have sworn he saw steam puff out of the young man's nose.

Iroh could take no more of seeing his nephew struggle, so he offered to step in for a while. "I think you could use a break," he murmured. He nodded apologetically to the customer who had been waiting nearly five minutes for Zuko to enter her order into the system. He seemed more than happy to let his uncle take over, but he did not go to the back where Lu Ten was brewing the tea. Instead, he stood next to Iroh to carefully observe his every move, brows pulled together in concentration.

Zuko's break ended up lasting for the remainder of his shift. As soon as Iroh thanked the final customer of the evening for coming and the 'Open' sign was turned off, he rounded on his nephew, who had taken to sweeping the floor—albeit forgetting to use a dustpan.

"Zuko, this is not the behavior of someone who 'just didn't sleep well'."

The boy chewed his lip, looking thoroughly overwhelmed as he considered Iroh. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but then glanced at his cousin and closed it. Iroh continued, "Whatever it is, I can help you. Just talk to me."

"I just…have a lot on my mind," Zuko murmured, at last, eyes turned to the floor.

Lu Ten, who had paused the cleanup process in the back, appeared in the doorway then and scoffed. "More like, you completely forgot how to function as a human being. What was that? We can't afford to lose customers just because you're having some kind of breakdown."

Iroh winced at the harsh words, expecting an argument to unfold. Zuko, however, just watched his cousin with that same mystified expression from earlier.

Eventually, he sighed, ignoring Lu Ten's remark to turn fully to face his uncle. "When is my next shift?"

Iroh decided not to reveal his concern over his nephew suddenly forgetting his own work schedule. "Well, it's at 8 AM tomorrow, but maybe you should take a few days off."

Zuko shook his head. "I'll be here. This won't happen again." Without another word, he strode out the door and into the night.

"Didn't even bother to stay for cleanup," said Lu Ten with overt annoyance. Iroh glowered at him in response before grabbing the vacuum from the small supply closet behind the register. "He is clearly in distress."

The sound of the vacuum drowned out Lu Ten's obnoxious rap music, leaving Iroh to ponder as he cleaned under the small seating area near the front counter. Recalling Zuko's bewildered response to seeing his cousin that morning, he decided that it might be best to remove that factor from the equation to get to the bottom of his nephew's troubles.

"Lu Ten," he called, turning off the noisy machine. "Why don't you take tomorrow off?"

As soon as the door closed, Katara sagged in the chair. Zuko created a nearly suffocating tension when he was in the room. So, she was grateful that he would be gone for the rest of the day, even if she couldn't keep an eye on him. Besides, the likelihood that he and his uncle were going to scheme against her was admittedly low. In fact, she rather admired General Iroh.

Turning her attention back to the device on the table, she pressed the next little square that made up the picture. After having decided that learning as much as possible about this world and its technological mysteries would only help her mission move faster, she had spent the last few minutes repeating this action. Katara found, to her surprise, that using the device became relatively intuitive as she continued her probing.

This next function of her focus was the calendar. It was certainly unlike any other calendar she had seen. Rather than a celestial map, it showed her a schedule of the day in the form of a list. Each item in the list was highlighted for its allotted amount of time. If she tapped the subsequent dates at the top of the image, the respective schedules appeared. Had someone else created this calendar, or had she done it herself? Two things caught Katara's immediate attention: the schedules were packed, and they were planned exceptionally far in advance. After several fruitless minutes of tapping through the dates to find the next empty day, she gave up and touched tomorrow's date—a Monday—then began studying the agenda.

'REMINDER – Rent Due Friday
All Day'

'Zuko: TranquiliTea
8 AM – 4 PM'

Her eyes rolled. Of course this alternate Katara had merged Zuko's schedule with her own.

'Katara: Departmental Meeting
9:30 AM – 11 AM'

'Katara: Brainstorm
11:30 AM – 12:30 PM'

'Katara: Mentor Lunch
12:30 PM – 1:15 PM'

'Katara: Market Planning
2:30 PM – 3:00 PM'

'Katara: Web Review
4:00 PM – 5:00 PM'

'Katara/Zuko: Dinner Reservation
Hidden Jewel
7:00 PM – 9:00 PM'

Her disappointment in the other Katara's judgment grew as she made a mental note to cancel that last item, shaking her head in disgust. She was, however, grateful for the organization of the calendar. She was fondly reminded of Sokka's insistence that the group stays on schedule ahead of the eclipse.

Only half-succeeding at stifling the panic that rose in her chest at the thought of the eclipse, she examined the line items more carefully.

While the other items on her schedule did not make sense to her, they did illustrate one certainty: Zuko was not the only one with a job—though hers seemed much different from his.

She was nearly resolved not to make an appearance at said job, but had caught the alert at the top of the agenda, reminding her that rent would be due on Friday. That surely meant the rent for the apartment in which she…and Zuko…currently resided.

With any luck, she would be out of this world and back to her life by Friday. However, even if she did make it out by then, the Katara of this reality will have missed several days of work. The idea of depriving her of the money she would need to make rent set alight an uncomfortable pang of guilt in Katara's stomach. Going to work would also further assist her in her quest for knowledge of this place…

Saving that decision for later, she decided then to abandon her exploration of the small device in favor of poking around the apartment. A heavy-looking black bag made of fabric that had frayed in places lay nearby. She heaved it onto the table and emptied it of its contents.

There was a thin, rectangular-shaped metal item, imprinted on which was the same image of a half-bitten fruit as the device she had just been tinkering with. This larger device seemed to constitute the majority of the weight from the pack. The rest of the items did not quite pique Katara's interest. There was a container of water, some parchment bound together with a few hastily-scrawled notes, and several paper wrappers for some kind of candy.

With a sigh, she began to repack the bag, save for the metal object, until a small piece of folded leather caught her attention. It had been half-hidden amongst the other scattered items. Opening its folds, she found an array of uniformly-shaped cards, organized neatly into slots. One of the slots was transparent, displaying what appeared to be Zuko's passport. It looked much different from the ones she had once seen refugees carry at Full Moon Bay while attempting to get on the ferry to Ba Sing Se.

She wedged the card out of the slot to examine it. There was another of the strange life-like pictures in the top left corner. Katara inhaled sharply. The Zuko in the picture was younger. In fact, he looked closer in age to the Zuko she was familiar with. He wore a close-lipped smile, and there was a twinkling innocence in his eyes that Katara imagined had burned out of the Zuko she knew long ago. It brought to mind a question that she often had wondered about since their first encounter with the banished prince: what—or who—gave him that scar? The words he had said to her in the Crystal Catacombs floated to her awareness, but she quickly banished the thoughts.

With effort, she was able to make some sense of the other words on the passport. The top read 'Da Ping Guo State Driver License'. Below it, in smaller font, was 'Nakaya, Zuko F', followed by an address written in a peculiar format. Katara assumed it was the location of this apartment. Several other bits of his personal information were listed, some with abbreviations she could not decipher. Idly, she noted that Zuko's birthday was coming up.

Before she could move on to the other cards stored in the leather container, a buzzing noise sounded from the device left abandoned on the far side of the table. Thinking of the result when Zuko's had done the same, she surged out of the chair to check it.

Messages
Sokka
iMessage

Heart fluttering, she tapped the words and waited a moment for the display to change. Sokka's name appeared at the top, along with words surrounded by a gray bubble.

'Helloooooo. In the neighborhood. Mind if I stop by?'

Her grin stretched from ear to ear as she read the message. If Zuko was going to have an ally in this reality, so would she.

In the middle of the display was the word 'Send', and below it was a blank space. Frowning in consternation for what felt like the hundredth time that day, she tapped the empty space. Her finger left a small black dot in its wake as if she had drawn it. A satisfied smirk replaced the grimace, and she began to draw out the symbols she needed for her response. Once the message was written out, she pressed 'Send'. It wasn't perfect, but that didn't matter as long as Sokka understood. Her words appeared above in a blue bubble.

'Nope come over'

His response came quickly.

'Sweet. Be there in a few.'

In an attempt to distract herself from the anticipation of Sokka's imminent arrival, Katara rose from the table and began toying with more things in the apartment at random. She jumped slightly as a flame appeared on the stove when she turned one of the dials underneath it, and decided quickly to move on to the large white box next to it. She opened it and was pleasantly surprised when it emitted cold air that reminded her of home. It was stocked with food, and her stomach's responding growl told her that she had yet to eat since waking up here.

She continued flitting around the apartment, turning knobs and pressing buttons at random, finding enjoyment in simply trying things to learn about them. It occurred to her during her exploration that there did not seem to be a need for bending in this place.

A knock soon sounded at the door. Katara bounded over and flung it open to let her brother inside.

"What's up, little sis?" He pulled her in for a brief hug, then walked over to fling himself across the futon.

Katara took a moment to scrutinize his appearance. His hair was short, the wolf tail nowhere to be seen. Though, there was still more hair at the top of his head than where it faded into his neck at the bottom. He wore a baggy white shirt and black pants made of a rough-looking fabric. Her eyes widened at the dark ink of the tattoos covering most of his left arm.

"Earth to Katara!" Sokka's waving arms forced her eyes back to his face.

"Oh! Um. Nothing much. What brought you to the neighborhood?"

He picked up the white bag she hadn't seen him carry in. "Zui was having a sale." At the confusion on Katara's face, he continued. "You know, the skate shop."

Feigning understanding, she nodded and moved to perch on the edge of the bed. "So, how was your day?"

It was evidently the correct question to ask because Sokka launched into a detailed explanation of his entire day thus far. Katara listened with rapt attention as he talked her through what he ate for breakfast that morning and grumbled something about his boss asking him to resubmit some floor plans. The train broke down, so he had to walk the last few blocks to Zui, so now his feet were sore. He was craving an iced coffee. The more he spoke, the more questions she had. She was hesitant to ask them, unsure if she was ready to reveal herself as an imposter—or whatever it was she should call herself.

"I can heal your feet if you want," she said once he had finished.

His brows pulled together. "Huh?"

"You said they were sore," she pointed out, though she was beginning to regret having said anything.

He laughed lightly. "What are you going to do, slap a Band-Aid on them?"

Do people really not bend here? She chuckled nervously before changing the subject. "Hey, are you busy tomorrow? Want to walk me to work?"

In truth, she was asking him because she had no idea where her work was located. Thankfully, this Sokka's mannerisms seemed similar to the brother she knew. Her question would hopefully coax a response from him without her having to outright ask.

Her words seemed to throw him. "Are you joking? I have a job too, you know. Why don't you have Zuko walk you 60 blocks to work?" The last question dripped with sarcasm.

Okay, we're getting somewhere. "I just thought we could use more quality sibling time. Plus, I know you love that little restaurant next door to my work. We could grab breakfast there. What's it called again?"

Sokka's face lit up. Jackpot. "Oh man, you mean Changpu? They have the best bagels…"

Seeming to snap himself out of it, he shook his head. "Sorry Katara, maybe some other day." She had what she needed, though, so she simply shrugged in response, making a mental note.

They sat for awhile in comfortable silence while Sokka stared at his own little device.

He spoke again. "Hey, do you want to watch Housewives? We have to catch up before the new season premieres!"

Katara looked at him like he had grown a second head, but he didn't notice as he rose to make his way toward the rectangular metal device she had left on the table. She observed him as he…unfolded it? Interesting. The display lit up.

"Oh, this is Zuko's computer. What's his password?" Sokka asked, eying her over his shoulder. She balked at him, unsure if he was still speaking the same language. "Uh—I don't know?" she responded at last.

Sokka turned to face her fully, his eyebrows raised in mock surprise. "You mean to tell me you don't have all of Zuko's passwords? Aren't you two supposed to be attached at the hip, or something?"

The front door opened, then, and Zuko himself strode through it. He stopped short once he registered the sight in front of him.

"Zuko, buddy!" Sokka clapped him hard on the shoulder. "How's my favorite future brother-in-law?" Katara choked on her own spit, and she watched as the already-disgruntled firebender's face turned a deep shade of red.

"Oh relax, I'm kidding." Sokka smirked, waggling his eyebrows at each of them in turn.

Katara's gaze had turned to the floor, so she didn't catch the glare that Zuko shot her brother. He said nothing, and an uncomfortable silence followed.

From the corner of her eye, Katara could see Sokka's feet begin to shuffle. The tension did not break when he spoke again. "Well," he dragged out that first word, "I think I'm gonna head home." He was already bending down to pick up his shopping bag.

Katara seethed but didn't protest. As much as she wanted her brother to stay, she refused to allow Zuko to eavesdrop. She looked up in time for Sokka to embrace her once more. He ruffled Zuko's hair on his way to the door, and Katara almost laughed at the other man's responding sour expression. Almost.

"Oh, Katara!" Sokka spun around after he opened the door. "It was supposed to be a surprise, but Mom and Dad are coming down to visit on Thursday. I'm not sure why they decided to surprise you and not me since you know the city so much better than I do. But anyway, can you make the dinner plans?"

Clearly desiring to exit the premises as soon as possible, he didn't wait for a response. Calling out, "Thanks!", he closed the door behind him, oblivious to the fact that his words had just punched a hole in Katara's chest.

All of his troubles suddenly forgotten, Zuko could only stare at the waterbender. Mom and Dad. Her hand had moved up to the place on her throat where her necklace would normally have been.

Without thinking, he crossed the room to sit next to her on the edge of the bed. She didn't flinch away from him, though Zuko suspected that fact had little to do with him. The girl stared unseeingly at the door through which her brother had just left.

Her mother was alive. Lu Ten was alive. He wondered what other apparitions awaited them here.

"Katara—"

She cut him off by standing abruptly.

"Don't—just, don't." Her voice was thick with emotion. She did not look at him as she headed into the washroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

Zuko rubbed his hands over his face, muffling the frustrated groan that escaped his lips. He could not bring himself to blame her for that response, but it stung, nonetheless.

The weight of the day settled firmly back into place at the pit of his stomach, but he could no longer think about anything. He would deal with his emotions, and hers, tomorrow. The light pouring in from the window told him it was only early evening, but still, he grabbed a pillow from the bed and placed it on the end of the futon.

Letting her have the bed was the least he could do.

Without bothering to change clothes, he flopped facedown into the hard cushions. The exhaustion overtook him almost immediately, and he drifted into a dreamless sleep.

AN: Hope you enjoyed this nice, long chapter. I'm so happy with the response to the last chapter. Another massive thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far. Let me know what you think!