Playing With Fire

Chapter 7 - Resolutions

Zuko still hadn't turned around. The anger he'd stirred up inside himself was now at its peak. He wasn't sure exactly what he was angry at though. Perhaps it was himself for allowing his fire-bending and biggest secret to escape; perhaps it was for being inconsiderate as to what the consequences of his actions may be on Amira, or perhaps it was at Amira herself. He saved her, didn't he? She should be thanking him, rewarding him, not running away from him! He didn't deserve that, did he? He did his best to save her. He did all he could. Tears stung his eyes as he pictured the thought of Amira being carried away by Long as he sat there unwilling to fire-bend so as to keep his secret and "spare her feelings" if Amira found out who he was. He would've told her who he was. Sure, he would've. Perhaps in time, yes, slowly; he' d brought the blame right around to himself once more. How could he let his emotions fuel him in such a negative way? Now, not only did Long and his company know who Zuko was, but Amira did, and for that she ran. The only thing that had made Zuko feel wanted, needed, had abandoned him because of him. With his hands clenched tight into fists, he began his journey back to the teashop. Nearly kicking down the door, Zuko trudged his way to his quarters, slamming the sliding door shut.

Without even inquiring upon his uncle's return, Zuko had confined himself to his room. Kicking off his shoes, he let out a grunt of frustration as anger washed over him and the recent occurrence played itself over and over in his mind. How could he be so stupid? How could she be so ignorant? After all that talk and feeling about finally finding someone that was like her, someone that was an outcast, after finally feeling needed, she runs away from him? Just like that? Slamming his fists against the boarded wall, he could feel his blood boil inside of him. Sweat trickled off his forehead. The room had suddenly grown extremely hot. Zuko pressed his forehead against the wall, still keeping his fists jammed to it. Closing his eyes he envisioned her again. Her long, beautiful, brown hair, and her bright, amethyst eyes still shining brighter than any star even under that darkened cloak. He watched as her smile shone his way; the smile he never once returned. He remembered their night; the way the moonlight reflected off her in a most blinding and angelic way. All that, though, was gone within the next recollection. He saw her shoot him a disgusted look and then flee from his presence. Zuko's eyes flashed open as the wave of anger induced him to emit flames from his hands. Unable to control it this time, he was about to turn back with an attempt to find some way to stop this; he was stopped, however, with a hand placed on his shoulder. This immediately reduced the flames to nothing.

Zuko's chest rose and fell quickly as tears stung his eyes. He could feel the ends of his hair teeming with sweat. "Control, Zuko," Uncle's calming voice whispered to his nephew. Zuko shook off his hand off. Advice? He didn't need advice right now; that was certainly the last thing he wanted. He wanted her back; no, he wanted to forget her. He didn't know what he wanted! He just needed to be alone without any questions, any comments … just alone. He needed time to dwell, time to forget, time to just reflect on everything and somehow forget about it later on. Striding out towards the door leading out to the teashop, he was stopped once more when a cold question was fired at him. "Zuko, where is Amira," Uncle asked curiously. Zuko stopped dead in his tracks simply turning his head in the direction of his uncle without truly looking at him, and proceeding out through the door in the next second. He didn't know where he was going - perhaps back out into the street, perhaps out to the place where the recent revelation had transpired. He just needed to be gone, away from everyone else for a while. Zuko sighed as he looked up and down the vacant and eerie street; finally he'd decided to sit right outside the teashop. After all, where else would he go? Burying his head in his hands as he brought his knees into his chest, Zuko let out a deep sigh, preparing to brave the coldness of not only the night, but the circumstance-inspired atmosphere.

Iroh watched as Zuko skulked, and he, too, gave a small sigh before turning back to bed. Perhaps he would let Zuko sit it out for a while; there was no use pushing him to talk if he didn't want to. Zuko was always intelligent in the way of ultimately figuring out what was best for him; even if it required him losing his way to find his way back.

Her eyes were filled to the brim with tears, and her cheeks were wet with those already spilt. Her legs were sore, and she was sure that the bottoms of her shoes must have worn out by now. Having concluded her sprint down the long expanse of stone filled streets, she finally pulled herself into an alleyway, sinking down the wall and hugging her knees to her chest. How could he be the heir of the Fire Lord? How could he be a fire-bender? How could he blatantly lie to her? Her tears cascaded down her cheeks in a seemingly never-ending way. Staring up at the cloudy night sky, she pushed all thoughts away. She didn't want to think about him or the recent revelation or anything. She just wanted to disappear, to feel completely numb to everything happening around her, but would it help? Would deafening, blinding or numbing the ability to feel really solve this? She didn't know; she didn't want to know. She just wanted him, Zuko or Lee, whichever he was, but how could she? He was a fire-bender, all they brought about was destruction and fear. The city of Ba Sing Se was a grand example of that.

The city was so fearful that it was as if the people were ignorant to the war, so as blatantly disallow the truth that the war was indeed upon them, through the city gates. Amira sighed; how they influenced so many along with their thoughts and actions was incredible. How could such a people do this? People that once lived in harmony with the rest of the world. How can one man acquire such a thirst and lust for power and conquer? That man being the Fire Lord, himself; otherwise known as Zuko's father. Her mind was unable to fully wrap or fathom the thought that someone she'd grown so fond on, someone she'd trusted, someone she'd … loved belonging to a culture of people so rash and cruel. Her thoughts were interrupted by a certain scurrying over by a nearby box. Amira immediately startled her position into an upright one. Looking over at she'd thought she'd seen a white lemur, however, those were known to be extinct. I'm losing my mind, she thought, picking herself up and hugging her cloak closer. Wandering further down the alleyway and into an empty street, Amira once more allowed her thoughts to fill her head. Although it pained her, she couldn't see any way around it at the moment.

Despite her immense distrust and growing dislike of Zuko at the moment, part of her was still soothed by the mere thought of him. Whether she liked it or not, he was just like her. He was the beacon of familiarity that she clung to; he was her serenity, her sense of peace. She knew it. He must've known it too. Guilt had taken over now. Should she truly have run from him? Despite whatever he may be, he never intentionally hurt her; no, in fact, he'd saved her from her recent peril. How did she repay him, though? By running away. No, no, no! He lied to you, Amira … about himself, about his life, even about his name. What would've stopped him from keeping it up longer had Long or his company not threatened you? Nothing. Who says he wouldn't have used his fire bending on you at one point, her mind asked her heart. Me, her heart replied. She was sure her mind had known it too (even behind its defiant justifications), but there was something about Zuko. He was different from the others; at least as the stories she'd heard went. Something about him, the way he looked at her even behind his indifferent glare, told her that she meant something to him - that perhaps the little runaway-princess had made him feel something he was deprived of and greatly needed, and perhaps it was exactly that. The needing to be needed was what he found in her.

Her feet had finally given out from under her. She was unconscious that she'd continued her walking. Strange how a mindful of thoughts could make one mindless. Her knees hit the cold and rock-laden street. Biting her lip in pain, she picked herself once more only to notice a rip along the side of her kimono (perhaps as a result of her running). Attempting to somehow dust off an already dirt-stained kimono, Amira's actions were stalled at the sound of rough, familiar voices. Immediately pulling herself into the shadowy corner of the street, Amira watched as the two men she'd just recently escaped from hurried down the street. "We must tell someone," the elder said, frantically. The other man grunted in pain, perhaps indicating he'd agreed. "Everyone," the man grunted once more out of pain. "Everyone will know of them." Falling to his knees, Amira held her breath, thinking that even the slightest noise would've given her location away. Long, however, picked himself up, after pushing the elderly man's attempt at helping him up away. The two continued down the street; Amira let out a small sigh as she watched them disappear into but little dots and then finally disappear. Amira's thoughts became immersed in the recent conversation she'd overheard. Them? Could he mean Zuko and his uncle? If the authorities ever found out, and the people… Amira's breath was involuntarily held again as several thoughts as to what may become of Zuko and his Uncle filled her mind. Would he stop them? Of course … wouldn't she? They've been nothing but nice to her during her boarding time with them, but was it worth it? Was it worth protecting two of the world's largest criminals? How long would it be before they turned on her? Amira clenched her fists as thoughts of Zuko filled her head again, this time bringing not serenity, but confusion and thus frustration. Why did he have to do this to her? Why did she have to be involved with him? This was all his fault! If he'd never found her, she'd had never known him, and her mind wouldn't be in the state that it was now.

Continuing on ahead and proceeding into another alleyway, Amira sank to the floor, holding her cloak even tighter to her. She hadn't the slightest clue what she was going to do. Run, as she always had? Inform two, apparently well renowned and established figures of the Fire Nation, of Long's plans? Or stay in Ba Sing Se and become immersed in the city life as these people had, walking around with nothing on their minds except the ways down the streets and the food one was to eat? A yawn had struck her suddenly, and it was then, that she'd realized she was still human, capable of not only thoughts (those of which, sometimes she'd wished were not hers or were lessened greatly so as to not take up her entire mental capacity), but involuntary actions. A simple and perhaps trivial realization, but perhaps one that may inspire her choice of action in her days to come. For now though, she thought to herself, before any course of involuntary plans and actions are carried through or thought of being carried through at that matter, perhaps sleep would be best. Withdrawing her cloak from around her, she bundled it up in a pillow-like fashion laying her head on it. Curling herself up against the unusually cold night, Amira attempted to sleep, hopeful to escape the pains she'd faced not only bodily and emotionally but her ever present thoughts and worries, those of which inspired a new pain to her - the pain of decisions and consequences and how close each were intertwined with another. Once more she wished for another dreamless night, for perhaps a blank mind was the most peaceful.