A/N: you may be wondering why this story is called 'the bottom of a swimming pool' and for that, i have two answers: the first is that i'm making this up as i go along and i just thought it was a cool lyric from young god by halsey and the second is that i'm lying and i actually have a reason and i'm working on getting to that point in the story

as always, read, review, show this fic to your friends and neighbors, and you can message me on tumblr (thinqng) if you really want to idk

"Were you even listening to me?"

Zuko snaps his head up in response to what he knows is a loaded question. Mai stands before him in his chamber, her pale hands on her narrow hips and she's frowning, in irritation and disapproval, as Zuko scrambles to find some sort of response. It's not the first time she's caught him wandering mid-conversation. To be fair, he's got a lot on his mind. He's never really been one to talk unnecessarily in the first place, and with everything on his plate, he's had a lot to think about.

First of all, there's Katara. Her departure from the Fire Nation is set for ten days away, and as much as he insists (and believes) that she needs to return home so that she can begin to move on after the war, he's already starting to preemptively miss her. He thinks that spending even less time with her might make the break cleaner, but that only really makes him wonder what Katara's up to when she's not with him. After all, Iroh is really the only other person she has to interact with, and there's only so many games of Pai Sho the two can play before Katara gets tired of it. Spending more time with her doesn't seem like it'll solve much either, because then he'll have to get used to the gap in his day when she's gone.

He'd much rather brood about his feelings in silence than talk about them with anyone.

Secondly, there's Azula. She's always been in the forefront of Zuko's mind, especially since he saw her the other day. Part of him wants to convince himself that his visit was proof that there's no hope for Azula. The war broke her in ways he is unfit to repair, and he should take this as a sign that he should cut all ties with her. He's done more than he had to by keeping her in a ward where she more or less has her freedom. She's never chained up or restrained. Her caretakers regard her with respect and kindness. He could've just as easily thrown her in prison to be mistreated like he said he would (but silently backed out of last minute. It's out of what he thinks is pity, but might actually be love.) He has no obligation to speak to her or even see her ever again, but he still craves the hypothetical day when he and his sister can have some sort of civil bond, and he wants to go back to see her. The only questions are when, and why.

And of course, there are his duties as Fire Lord. Zuko is a good leader, far better than Ozai would've ever led him to believe, and while he doesn't have years of experience, he has genuineness, and that's enough to get him by for now. So far he's been signing treaties, meeting with other world leaders, making the appropriate reparations for the war as he sees fit and plausible. Zuko knows enough about politics to market his actions in a way that most Fire Nation citizens can more or less be content with. 'The Hundred Year War only brought casualties and devastation; if we are to share our greatness with the world, we must do so in a way that doesn't endanger lives.' He knows the entire nation isn't one hundred percent on board with him just yet. Mai's offhanded comments about his decisions are proof of that. The way his servants treat Katara despite him telling them to respect her only furthers this. But, he thinks that in time, he might be able to change the minds of his nation, maybe.

This kind of ambition, however, has a heavy cognitive load, and is one of many reasons why, when Mai starts speaking, Zuko sometimes tunes her out.

The fact that Mai is even pestering him right now is frustrating, because Zuko has made it clear on more than one occasion that he's not doing this to bother her, it's just difficult to keep all his thoughts separate and quiet and organized, especially when she's talking at him, but if he wants to avoid a fight (and her prying) he'll have to bite his tongue.

"Well Zuko?" Mai prompts when her boyfriend doesn't speak.

"I—Of course I was listening," Zuko says, in a voice that doesn't even convince himself. He clears his throat in indignation, trying to keep himself from stumbling over the words spilling from his tongue. "What would make you think I wasn't?"

"What was the last thing I said?" Mai asks. Her hands leave her hips so that she can cross her arms, her eyes narrowing as she does.

"You asked if I was listening." He doesn't give her the chance to yell at him. Instead, he walks over to Mai and kisses her softly and quickly, though she doesn't return the affection or uncross her arms. She doesn't even bother to look at him when she continues to glare. "I'm sorry," Zuko says.

"I know."

"I just have a lot on my mind—"

"I know."

"—With all the meetings I still have today and—"

"I know, Zuko." Mai takes a deep, loud breath. Zuko stares at her in defeat. He knows that this is what their dynamic is, and that the good times between them will return, once they get used to one another again. It's saddening that they have to go through this, but he knows once it's good again, it'll be worth it, they just have to wait it out like they always do...

Zuko looks at the floor, then back at Mai.

"I have to go to another meeting right now," he says quietly.

"Of course you do," Mai replies. It's silent and for once, Zuko despises it, because in the silence his thoughts run rampant and he can feel all the issues between them threatening to bubble up and drown them both. Mai starts to leave without speaking, and Zuko wants to stop her; he wants to apologize again but he doesn't know what to say without sounding redundant.

"I'll do better," is what he says, in a voice that doesn't even convince himself.

.

.

.

"So I have this theory," Katara says, as she kneels by the turtleduck pond with Zuko. Her small hands are glowing blue as she encases the burned flesh of his palm in water, attempting to heal the injury he acquired from Azula. She long since lectured him about it; 'Be more careful', 'Why didn't you let me heal this sooner?' and a barrage of other things that only served to make him laugh at her concern. She's just so motherly and endearing, and he knows how much he'll miss her presence when she's gone.

The sun is setting and the sky is a pretty orange but as always, Zuko is distracted because in the back of his mind he knows ten days until Katara's departure is quickly becoming nine, and it'll only be a matter of time before she leaves for the South Pole. He tries not to think about it too much, because he knows that he's wasting what little time he has left with her, but he can't help himself. He hates that this is going to end.

"Tell me your theory," he says, hoping that if he focuses on her words he can get lost in them. Katara smiles, and Zuko notices that her hands are still encased around his and he wonders how long they've been like that. Surely there's only so much healing she can do for an old burn, but the act itself is comforting enough that he doesn't question it aloud.

"What if everyone has a past life?" Katara asks. The turtleducks are swimming in tiny circles and quacking quietly, a tiny symphony as she speaks.

"You mean like the avatar?"

"Yes, but not just the avatar..." Katara looks puzzled and Zuko finds this endearing as well, watching her struggle to find the right words to get her thoughts out. "What if we're all being reincarnated but we just can't access our past lives?" He notices her staring at him, hopefully, as if she expects him to have some profound answer, but he doesn't. He looks at the turtleducks chasing one another in the pond. His eyes flicker up at the orange sky. A year ago, he barely thought he had a place in the universe. How Katara expects him to know if this is or isn't his first life, is beyond him.

"Never really thought about it," Zuko admits. The duo let the turtleducks take the reigns by singing in their silence until Zuko speaks again. "What made you think of this?"

"Us," Katara says. Zuko's brows furrow, but Katara continues without prompting. "When we were little, my mother used to tell Sokka and I why the stars were in the sky."

"To light the way of weary travelers?" Zuko offers.

"Not just that," Katara says. "My mother told us that the stars were living beings, put in the sky by fate to follow a certain path, no matter how twisted and convoluted it may seem." Zuko quirks an eyebrow.

"And how does this relate to us?"

Katara finally removes her hands from Zuko, returning the water she used to heal him back to the pond. The turtleducks squeak in surprise.

"I think it's fate that we found each other," she says. Her eyes are fixed on the turtleducks and Zuko can't quite read her expression, not when her hair is hiding her face. "If anyone told me that we'd be friends, after how we met, after all we'd been through, I would've never believed them. But I think we were supposed to find each other."

"And what does this have to do with past lives?"

"The avatar's destiny is laid out for them long before they're born," Katara explains. "Who they're supposed to be, what they're supposed to do; they always find their way in every reincarnation. And maybe we're all like that. We might not have our past lives to guide us, but we have our fate laid out... The people we're supposed to meet and care about aren't random. We just have to find our way to where we belong." There's a pause while Katara's words sink in and Zuko smiles. He likes her theory, her optimism, her unashamed hope that their unorthodox friendship was meant to be, and not just some odd anomaly of the universe. She honestly believes that they were meant to be a part of each other's lives, and it makes Zuko feel undeniably warm to think about.

"Maybe," Zuko begins, trying to hide his smile. "Even in times like these, born on opposite sides of war, we were always supposed to find our way back to each other."

Katara's smile starts off small, before encapsulating her entire face, and for that fleeting moment in time, when the sun finally dips beyond the horizon and the sky turns navy, Zuko forgets that ten days until Katara's departure will soon become nine.