"This isn't really working, is it?"

Zuko pried his eyes from his paperwork and focused on her. "What isn't working?" he asked as he tried to blink away the mathematical figures still floating in his vision.

The nonbender sighed, dropping herself onto the crimson lounge. "Us," Mai said, her normally plain, emotionless face scrunched into distress.

The Fire Lord frowned at her. This again? It seemed like every other day, his girlfriend was fretting about their relationship. "Mai, can this wait 'til later? I'm trying to work out these new formation plans."

"Whatever," she grumbled, pulling out one of her blades. "That's all you ever care about lately." She absentmindedly dragged her fingertip over the blunted side of her dagger. Mai flung it back into its holster on her wrist and threw herself off the lounge. "Why don't you just marry your work while you're at it?"

Zuko let out an exasperated huff and slammed down his papers. "What is it with you?" He rose from the table and whirled to face her.

Mai met his eyes squarely as she veiled her expression once more. Her voice had become as cool as the look in her eyes. "Well, excuse me for wanting a little attention every now and then. Your plants get more attention than I do."

"That's because all I have to do is water them once a day, and they'll shut up!" Zuko stepped back and clipped a sigh as he tried to rein in his temper. "What is it you want, Mai?"

The shift in Zuko's response caught her off-guard. She also loosened her anger a little bit and looked away from him. "I don't know," Mai admitted softly, sitting back on the lounge. "I'm just...sick of being stuck in this awful castle while you get to go out and play."

"What?" growled Zuko, his lips getting caught between a grin and a snarl. He gave a breath of a chuckle. "You think this is fun for me? Trying to figure out how to put the country back together after my father and grandfather screwed it up? Trying to prove to the world that we're different now than we were a year ago?" He threw his gaze away from her and fell quiet for several moments. "I'm under a tremendous amount of pressure and responsibility. I would think that you could respect that."

"I do respect that, but Zuko, you have a responsibility to me, too." Mai mentally cringed as soon as the words left her tongue. She knew what a terrible response that was.

Zuko's eyes widened, and he studied her for several moments.

"That's not what I meant," she said hurriedly, and tried to frame it more gently. "I just mean that—"

Zuko sighed heavily, letting his nerves relax a tad. "I know what you mean, Mai." He didn't, really, so he searched her face for clues. She tried to keep her expression indiscernible, but he knew better. The desolation in her grey eyes was subtle but unmistakable. "You feel neglected, and I understand that, but I don't know what I can do about it."

"We could take a vacation," she said hopefully, putting her hand on his shoulder and attempting to nudge him closer.

Zuko paused and considered this for a minute, but the list of responsibilities kept cluttering his thoughts. He shrugged off her hand and turned back to his desk. "You can take a vacation," he replied curtly. He sat down before his paperwork and resumed studying the figures.

Behind him came an irritated groan. "Fine." There were several minutes of rustling and shuffling and angry footsteps crossing the room. Zuko snuck a glance over his shoulder to see his girlfriend hastily grabbing her stuff. He heard her throw her knapsack over her shoulder and head to the door.

"Where are you going?" Zuko called, immediately feeling regretful.

At first, Mai was silent, and Zuko almost wondered if she'd heard him. "My parents'," she replied flatly before slipping through the door.

He heaved an infuriated sigh, and stared at his papers. The mathematical figures might as well have been dancing on the page; Zuko's mind was a world away. His heart began to ache as their fight echoed through his head, and the stumbling evolution of their relationship unfurled before him. The two teenagers were no strangers to arguments—it felt like they'd fought every other week for the past several years. But they had long ago decided to give no credit to their fights and to assign them no ultimate meaning or consequence. They'd yell at each other, storm around and stamp their feet, and then resume their relationship as normal, quickly forgetting the bitter words exchanged and the sour feelings evoked. Zuko, however, never forgot all the bitter words and sour feelings passed between them. As much as he loved Mai and treasured their bond, he always knew it must be a matter of time before all the negativity they shared would suddenly stack up and topple over. Arguments were an inevitable part of their relationship, and each time, the young Fire Lord wondered if it would be their last.

But Mai had never left before. Usually it would go like this: they would fight over some ridiculous thing or another, they'd puff out their chests and stand their ground, but within a few minutes or a few hours, they'd end up deflating. They might spend a few hours apart and sulk individually, but they'd be back together afterwards. There might be apologies, there might not—it didn't really matter to them. Their truce would be apology enough.

But Mai had never left before. She would sulk on the lounge, or in her room, or in the gardens, but she would still be there and would still be with him. Zuko almost felt naked, felt raw and numb and cold. Only fifteen minutes had passed, but Mai's absence was burning into him. Zuko gave a hard blink to clear his head, and stared at his papers again. He tried to put their fight from his mind, but it kept rushing back. Zuko released a frustrated grunt and brought his fist down hard upon the desk. After a hiss of pain, he buried his face in his reddened hand. He kept chasing away bad thoughts, but they kept returning fivefold. Scenes from their childhood, friendship, and relationship rolled through his mind. Somewhere behind the scenes—somewhere behind the memories—a small voice told him that Mai was gone.

Zuko suddenly sucked in a breath, startling both himself and the young woman beside him. His eyes flew open to find Katara hastily readying a stream of healing water. "Zuko," she sighed when he regained a stable breath. She bent the water back into its pouch and set it aside. "You scared me."

He scoffed. "Scared me," he laughed, relishing in the absence of pain. He forgot what it was like to breathe, let alone laugh, without being sent into an episode of agony. His body still felt stiff, but it didn't feel like it could shatter at any moment, and for that he was grateful. He carefully brought his hand to his forehead, imagining his joints might sound like grinding metal. "How long was I out?"

Katara's face was gentle as she responded, "Some time." After a thought, she admitted, "A couple of weeks."

"Wow," Zuko murmured, absently running his hand down his face and flinching in surprise when his fingers were met with coarse hair.

"Long enough to start a beard," Katara remarked playfully.

He toyed with his beginner's beard for a few seconds, humorously imagining a royal portrait of him with a full beard. Then, the injured Fire Lord leaned forward and tried to rise. Katara held his arm and slowly guided him to a sitting position. "You okay?" she asked before releasing him.

"Yeah," Zuko grunted, taking a deep breath and letting his body catch up. He blinked hard, visually devouring his surroundings as if for the first time. His room was still and glowing red as the rising Sun lit up the various crimson effects. Paperwork was stacked neatly on his desk, waiting patiently for his return. On a small table against the window stood several bottles of various medicines and Fire Sage potions. It looked as if they had been hurriedly shoved to the far end of the table to make room for Katara's healing water. Knowing her, Zuko was surprised the bottles hadn't ended up broken on the floor.

"Do you think you're ready to stand?" asked Katara, studying his face and the halting movement of his limbs. She leaned over to lend her arm.

Zuko hissed a breath as he rolled his weight forward, taking her arm more desperately than he'd have liked. "Just a second," he muttered. His eyes accidentally met hers as he was readying himself, and it was then that the reality of the situation set in. The Fire Lord had been seriously injured. Without Katara, he would be dead. She saved his life, and here she was, still committed to his care. Zuko found himself gazing at her in admiration. Her azure eyes glittered with concern. Her features were relaxed but focused. The thinly-veiled exhaustion in her face told Zuko that she must not have left his side since the attack. He became acutely aware of the strength of her presence, not merely as friend but as defender, and he felt humbled that such a fierce warrior should swear herself to his side.

He braced himself and let go of her arm, determined that he should rise to his feet himself. Zuko pushed himself slowly off the bed and wobbled to his feet. When he started to stagger, Katara was quick against his side. He resisted leaning on the young woman at first, but he still had little strength of his own. "I'm not hurting you, am I?" asked Zuko, trying to shift his weight independently.

"Don't worry about it," she replied. "Let's just get you out to the parlour."

Carefully, they made their way through the long hall and into the next room. What was normally a moment's trip seemed to take half an hour. Zuko was prickling with frustration; he could only imagine how annoyed Katara must have been, but she was never anything less than supportive. Finally, they found the parlour, and Katara helped him down onto a velvet chaise. He sank onto the daybed with a long groan, a combination of pain, stiffness, and disappointment in his diminished abilities. The waterbender came down beside him and helped him adjust his posture. She grabbed a couple of pillows and laid them against his back. "Is this okay?" she asked.

"Yeah," Zuko sighed as he leaned back. He caught her eyes and smiled appreciatively. "Thanks."

They sat together in silence for a small time. Zuko's breathing sometimes still came in harshly, and he noticed Katara tense up every time his breath caught in his throat. She avoided staring at him, but he knew that she was closely monitoring his condition and his movements. Suddenly, Zuko was stricken by the fact that she was still with him. "Why are you still here?" he asked.

She looked at him, and furrowed an eyebrow in question. "What do you mean?"

"Shouldn't you be out there with Aang?"

Katara froze, unable to answer and unable to meet his eyes. She could feel Zuko's gaze burning into her as he awaited her response. She ran her finger along the velvet arm of the chaise before finally saying, "He's been busy." Katara hoped that would be answer enough, but when Zuko didn't reply, she added delicately, "We decided to spend some time apart."

"Oh." Something in his voice, and the fact that he didn't press her further, seemed to indicate an understanding. When Katara glanced at him, his eyes were gentle and almost sympathetic. "Well," he began with a small smile, "I'm glad you're here. Thank you, Katara."

She mirrored his smile, and felt her eyes start to moisten. She threw her gaze down to her feet before a tear could form. "You're welcome, Zuko," she murmured.