This is a continuation of the earlier prompt, Potential.

4. Change

She hadn't seen Zuko since that night.

Katara had stolen back to the pool in her everyday clothes, then to the gym. She dared not to ask other residents where he was, though. It felt like a surrender. She wasn't even quite sure what she would do when she saw him. She wasn't going to apologize, that was for sure. Maybe.

Katara, after her new job, usually spent her time walking around or reading in the library. Her brother liked to comment on now being able to actually chat without her yawning after two minutes. Sometimes in the evenings, she went for jogs with Suki and Toph, who didn't speak at all about her failed Olympic "adventure." She wrote to her dad more and even got to chat with him, sort of face-to-face on the computer screen, with Sokka. She told herself she'd never been happier.

But she felt a tingling in her limbs. She was bored. She needed...

A smile curved her lips. She started a small list in her head...

Katara threw her towel aside and splashed into the water, loose hair swinging as she paddled around and spun like a child again. She giggled, held her breath, and did a few careful front-flips and handstands. The girl floated and twisted in the middle like an otter, laughing as the water rolled off of her and stuck to her hair. Underwater, she threw her goggles in various places and swam to catch them before they hit the bottom. She tried running around the pool as much as she could, giggling at her foolish attempts.

The water seemed to respond to her mood as it lapped playfully at her skin and swirled frantically as Katara attempted another silly stunt of game, her shrieks of laughter filling the still air of the pool. She was diving into the water, light flickering underneath—Katara could easily pretend she was in the imaginary coral reef, searching for treasure among the bright colors and flitting fish. Coming back up for air, she immediately stopped, the smile sliding from her face as easily as water did from rock.

Zuko was watching her, bare-chested and a towel slung over his shoulders, in his swimming trunks. She never actually considered him swimming outside of practicing and competing, and those days were over for him. They locked eyes.

Option One was to duck her head under the water and wait until he was gone. This had the consequence of drowning, or Zuko diving in to save her. How trite.

Option Two was to haul herself out as quickly as possible and run for the locker room. Of course, she ran the risk of slipping on the wet floor and either cracking her head on the slippery concrete or, again, having Zuko rescue her.

Option Three was to stare stupidly like a caught fish and wait for something to happen. This posed no death situations. She did so.

He smiled awkwardly at her, which looked like a peculiar thing on his face. Now that she thought about it, she had never seen him even crack a grin when he won any of his medals. "I...have never seen you like that. Or...with your hair down."

"Well," she coughed in an affected tone. "that is a bit of your fault."

Zuko looked guilty now, and she felt an ugly twinge of pride. "I know. I'm...I apologize. I shouldn't have pushed you. I look back now, and I see that you never really wanted to train."

"What?" Katara narrowed her eyes.

"No, not like that!" He sat down at the edge of the pool, cross-legged, and Katara swam over towards him, hair streaming all over like a curious fishwoman. "I thought about what you said, about competing for yourself, and thought back to your face the first day, when Pakku was doing all the talking. Remember?"

She nodded.

"You didn't seem...very excited. Did you...really want to do it? Did you ask him? Sign up?"

"No," she looked down. Her reflection was wavering in front of her eyes. "Pakku called me in after practice. He said I had great talent and potential. It was sort of...set-up. He had practice arranged and everything."

"I see." He ran his hand through his hair slowly and with a sigh. "Why didn't you tell me, or Pakku that you didn't want to go for the Olympics?"

"Well, I did, a little," she admitted. "But I never really thought of it until Pakku talked to me. Then you showed up for my second practice, and there was this huge deal of you, an Olympic swimmer being my coach, coming here to train what apparently Pakku thought was his best student, and—" she sighed, wishing she could sit down. "it got out of hand. I...couldn't give up, and I couldn't disappoint Pakku...or you."

There was silence after this.

"What are you doing here?" she finally asked after he didn't respond.

He smiled again, which again, looked odd. "Why, swimming, of course. To calm down." Zuko shrugged and added, "And to look for you."

"Oh." Katara finally got out of the water, in case he was going to swim like he said he would. Besides, it was awkward trying to talk to him from the pool. "Well, I'm here." She wrapped herself quickly in her towel and picked up her clothes.

Zuko put his feet in the water and swirled them around a bit. "Look, I want to talk about this. How about tomorrow at six? I'll pick you up from your house. Wear something nice."

"You're taking me to a pivate gala for Olympic champions and their students?" Katara snarled, considering how much time it would take to take off her high-heeled shoe and hit him over the head with it. She would have considered throwing herself out the ridiculously nice limo if it hadn't been speeding over what she was sure was over the legal street limit.

Zuko fidgeted with the candy bar she had refused in his hand, looking uncomfortable. "Well, the invitation was technically sent out weeks ago, and you were training under me then. Did I mention coming is sort of socially required?"

"You bastard," Katara snarled. "I quit, don't you remember? The least you could do is take me out to a nice restaurant, since I went to an idiotic amount of trouble getting ready."

"Too late," the driver called, almost cheekily. "we're here."

"Thanks, Jee." Zuko responded, getting out first and holding the door open for her. Katara refused the offered arm and stormed out the best she could in her shoes and cleanly-pressed dress. Her "escort" sighed, quickly shut the door, and grabbed her hand.

"Look, I told you we would talk. We only have to stay a few hourse. Please?"

Katara yanked her hand out of his. "Only a few hours."

She recognized many faces that had made their way into her newspaper clippings collection. The trouble was that 1) they didn't know her as well as did, and 2) she was immediately struck by shyness when entering the massive ballroom, decorated by colorful swags of fabric, waiters in tuxes holding silver trays of finger food, a shiny dance floor, and crowds of Olympians chatting together in expensive clothes that made her nicest, dark blue dress look like a simple rags.

Zuko, however, did not have such problems. Not only was he infuriating at the pool, but he also managed to do so in this party. He was smooth and easily gliding around the room with her numbly following and munching on delicate pastries or rich appetizers, chatting up old friends and shaking hands with their new students. The trainees were either intimidated as her or very aloof, so they did not speak or only muttered two-word phrases if she ventured at conversation. She gave up and resolved that since this was probably the fanciest thing she was ever going to go to, she was going to try to sample as much as the food as possible. Wouldn't Sokka be jealous.

She was currently hooked on the shrimp toast, currently in a moral dilemma to whether steal one of the trays and be mistaken for a waitress outside the dress code or follow the waiter and be pinned as the girl who spent the night stuffing her face. She was reaching out for another as she pondered this when a thin, smooth hand plucked the one she was touching and popped it in a grinning mouth.

"Can't get enough of those, huh?" the young man cocked his head as Katara quickly brushed the crumbs from her face. "They're my favorite." He stuck out his hand. "Jet, by the way. I don't believe I've seen you here before."

"I'm Katara," she answered softly. She knew him. He was the star of her bulletin board before Zuko Agni came along, and when he and Zuko had to compete together, he always fell at second place, something by mere milliseconds. He always seemed a bit arrogant, but had a smoothness and what Gran Gran called a debonair quality that made a typical jock-star attititude look classy and elegant. Jet had a shockingly bright green tie paired with an otherwise normal tuxedo, with the famous brown hair tumbling into his gleaming eyes. She found herself blushing.

"Katara, what a beautiful name." Jet commented, grabbing a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. "Now, tell me, who is your coach? I do wish it was me."

He was really turning up the charm, huh? "My...coach is Zuko. Zuko Agni."

"Ah!" His eyebrows rose. "Zuko doesn't normally take pupils. How did he come by you?"

"I, my old coach recommended me to him. He knew his uncle."

Jet nodded as if he had known this already. "What luck you've had, then. He's only taken one student before, and she quit after seven long years." He leaned so close that she could smell the spice on his breath. "She's training under me, now."

Before she could answer, the music started up, a simple tune with mainly flutes. He smiled, then put his glass down on a nearby table. "Care to take a turn with me, Katara?"

"Would your...student mind?"

"Psh, no, she'll be fine with it. Come."

He led her to the middle, where he easily taught her through the simple steps. She hoped she didn't look too out of place.

"Zuko is an interesting man, wouldn't you agree?"

"Er, yes. He...is."

Jet placed a hand on her waist and twirled her a bit. "An interesting man has an interesting story. Details you wouldn't find from mere interviews or Wikipedia."

Katara's curiousity was pricked, but she was wary. "Why would you be telling me this?"

"You are his student; I thought you ought to know." he brushed her fingers with a thumb. "For example, you've noticed his impatient manner and temper, have you not?"

"Um, yes." She said lamely, with a wan smile. He chuckled.

"No worries, I've seen enough of it when we...competed together. He is so much like his father, he fears."

She stepped to the left. "Ozai? The man who owned Agni Incorporated?"

"And made off pretty well, exploiting his workers, working with mafia bosses, and other illegal practices." Jet stepped to the right and raised his eyebrow. "Zuko has the story like the Joker's so-called one, except it's real. But his mother, that's a mystery. He refuses to talk about it."

Katara flashed to the painful scar covering half of his face. She'd often wondered how he'd gotten it and found herself shuddering on the crowded dance floor.

"Is that why he donates so much to associations for child abuse and such?"

"Exactly. They're close to his heart, unlike other celebrities who just put a little in to show off supposed goodwill. Mai didn't understand that, he told me. She only cared about winning, smart girl...you can't really let feelings get in the way, especially..." they jumped to the side. "if your coach fancies you."

"Mai, is that her name? Your student?"

"Ah, yes...it's a wonder why she and Zuko didn't get along; they're so much alike. But she's more subtle, more cunning...you have to really dig deep before you get to know her inner flame." He smirked, and Katara felt something roll in her stomach.

"Um...that's nice."

"It is," Jet commented airly. "But enough about relationships past. Let's talk about you."

"Me?" He was spinning her around, dipping her slightly under his arm.

"Yes, you, silly goose." Jet brushed a hand over her lower back. She wasn't quite sure if it was part of the dance or not. "Tell me a little about yourself."

"Well, I..." Before she could start, the music stopped, and someone else, a familiar hand, was grabbing her wrist.

"Jet, mind if I take her off your hands?" She bristled, but didn't glare as Jet smoothly handed her over to Zuko: "Why, she's very pleasant company, but if you insist..."

He was leading her soon out of the ballroom and into the limo.

"Hey, what gives, Zuko?"

"I thought you wanted to leave as soon as possible, if you were finished swooning over Jet." The car began to drive.

"I was not swooming. Where are we going? I don't think we were there even two hours."

He ignored the last part. "Just a nice restaurant, like you said you wanted to go."

"Instead of the gala."

"Don't be picky. Let's eat, if you hadn't stuffed your face with those dainty little foodstuffs already."

"So, why did you pull me away from Jet?"

"I prefer him not to spill my secrets to you. Those are the ones I wish to tell myself."

"Oh." Katara drank from her glass of water. "There is one thing Jet didn't tell me that I really wanted to know."

"What is that?"

"You explain one word to me, and why it bothers you." she leaned forward. "Prodigy."

Zuko clenched his fists into the tablecloth. "You heard that?"

"I did. Tell me."

"Azula..." he murmured, staring off into the space behind her. "My sister. She was the best at everything. If Jet told you about the sort of family I had, then you know I didn't have a great childhood. Made it worse when your father favored your psychotic little sister."

Katara listened.

"She got the best grades, was captain of all of the sports teams she wanted to play, head of the newspaper in high school...name it, and she was probably that. Everything the best also went to her. Clothes, gifts, schools, scholarships...except swimming."

Zuko swirled a finger in his water glass. "My mother and I used to swim together at Ember Island, our vacation home at the beach. Azula did, too, until one day, she almost drowned. A wave carried her out to sea. My mother called for a lifeguard as she was swimming for her. Azula almost didn't make it. She was lucky. But since then, she wouldn't touch water. She pretended, though, that she was too old to play in the waves, but I knew better. I decided to do swimming in middle school to freak her out. But, what do you know? I was good at it.

"Not really good, mind you. I had to practice. But it was an excuse to stay away from home, earn approval from my father. I got older and decided, as you pointed out that night, to escape from my life by using it. I eventually made it to the Olympics, and the rest is history."

Katara stared at him as he ended it: "I'm glad, though, that I found a way to get away from my home. But some things remind me of it. You did, and I apologize for treating you so harshly. Now..." Zuko shrugged, waved his hand for the bill of two waters. "I'm not sure what my purpose is."

Katara sat next to him in the wide seat as they headed for her home. She closed her eyes, sat back.

Tonight had been a strange night. She'd learned a lot of things that altered her perceptions of Zuko Agni. He was a jerk. He still hadn't quite moved on from his childhood. She wasn't sure how to think about it and didn't think she was in the right position to judge him.

Tomorrow, she'll start small. Rejoin the swim team. She'd have to explain to Pakku all that had happened, but she really missed her team. She missed swimming.

She needed to sort out a few things, first, though. Maybe she could go for the gold, if she wanted to. But that was her choice.

It may be Katara's choice, but it is also YOURS! Would you like to see Katara be in the Olympics? Vote on my profile and/or tell me in a review!