Ch.4: A Diverging Path

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Zuko closed his eyes as he focused on creating a consistent healing flame, hands hovering only a few inches from Akio's body. It'd taken a few days, but he'd gotten through the first scroll and memorized the chi paths to the best of his ability. As soon as Zuko told him of the development, Akio insisted that he put his knowledge to practical use. He thought it would be a good idea for Zuko to see and feel what the energy was really like.

Naturally, finding someone else's chi was easier said than done. While Zuko could feel his flames reacting to something underneath Akio's skin, it was difficult to tell what, exactly, was pulling at them.

A little more focus, especially on the points where he knew chi to concentrate most heavily, and he could almost make the out little streams of energy. He attempted to broaden his view, to see the whole system of chi paths like had been drawn out on the scroll, but he lost the feel for the pathways as soon as he tried to expand his focus.

Hissing in frustration, Zuko pulled back his hands and stepped back sharply.

"No luck?" said Akio, pushing himself into a sitting position.

"I saw somethingfor a moment," muttered Zuko, "but I couldn't visualize everything all together."

Akio was unconcerned by this. "Eh." He waved a hand dismissively. "You're already the most talented firebending healer in the world, so I wouldn't be overly anxious."

Zuko only shook his head, having gotten somewhat used to the ribbing over the past few days. It seemed that after he started showing a genuine interest in what Akio had to say—despite the continued uneasiness he felt at knowing what his father would think of his lessons—the pseudo-healer had lost a good deal of his animosity towards Zuko, replacing the harsh insults he'd once whispered behind his back with relatively harmless teasing.

Zuko allowed himself to show Akio a small degree of respect in return. He even acknowledged that his improved behavior wasn't entirely because of his talk with Uncle; rather, Zuko honestly didn't mind his lessons. The things Akio taught were useful, and he picked them up quickly. Something about the art of healing had piqued his interest, and that rendered Zuko more open to the idea of letting his guard down around his teacher, even if it was only enough to make working with the man tolerable.

"I feel like I should be able to see all of them, though," said Zuko, about the chi paths. "I mean, they were right there, but so… blurry, I guess." He frowned. "Maybe I'm not good enough with my new bending yet. I still can't maintain it for very long."

Akio smiled self-deprecatingly. "I'm afraid that's something you'd need to ask your uncle about. I sure as hell don't know… But really—was that at least somewhat useful?"

Zuko frowned as he chewed over the question.

"I think so. That scroll you gave me discussed how waterbenders manipulate chi to heal, how they shift it… and kind of improve its flow, I guess. But when my fire brushed against you chi, it didn't move; I don't think I could have moved it. It was more like… like the energy from my fire was draining into your chi paths."

"Makes sense," said Akio. "Obviously waterbending isn't anything like firebending; it's just moving stuff that's already there. But look at fire. Energy from the sun is what fuels life, and I imagine that's how your healing works—it infuses life into a person's body. Actually, making assumptions based on the nature of fire... I'd almost guess you clear out old, damaged chi too; like a forest fire burning dead trees so new ones can grow."

The first part made sense. And the second was logical, but…

"I don't know. I…" He hesitated, not wanting to bring it up. After a moment, however, he recognized that he was too interested in hearing Akio's opinion to simply let it go. Slowly, he went on, "When I was fighting Zhao, he… he burnt me over my scar. And when I healed myself after, the fire lingered there for a moment, but it couldn't fix it. If my healing could clear out damaged chi, wouldn't it have done something?"

Akio seemed to think that over for a second, and Zuko was relieved when he didn't so much as blink at the mention of his scar. He hated calling attention to the thing, but doing so was certainly easier when a big deal wasn't made out of it.

"Possibly," said Akio. "But I would almost bet it's more likely that there simply wasn't any chi left—from what I can tell, the area around your scar is pretty much dead. Can't get rid of the undergrowth if the forest has already been razed." He shrugged. "Just an idea."

A good one too. And he liked that Akio's theory about clearing out old chi hadn't been disproved. He thought it sounded preferable to what waterbenders did. Getting rid of bad stuff and replacing it with good, in his opinion, was a lot sounder than simply mixing everything up and hoping it started flowing better. Of course, he recognized that there were likely benefits to each, probably specific areas in which waterbending would work better. He also imagined it would take less effort to heal someone when it didn't involve transferring his own energy into them.

Still, if he and Akio were right about how his bending worked, it sounded more aggressive than healing with water. Somehow that made him feel like more of a true firebender.

"Did you want to spend more time working with chi, or move on to something else?" asked Akio.

"Move on," said Zuko. "I want to talk to Uncle about strengthening my fire before I start really working with it."

He thought about how those lessons would take away from his practice with his other bending, but as the latter had produced absolutely nothing so far, the tragedy wasn't too great. Zuko had been getting more out of his healing training than his work with Uncle, and he knew it. He had a gut feeling that his old fire wasn't coming back anytime soon, and the new stuff still refused to listen to him.

Oddly enough, he almost found that okay. The more he chewed over Uncle's words about how healing saved lives and normal fire took them, the more he wondered if what'd happened to him wasn't so bad as he'd originally thought. If he weren't so worried about what his father would think—about what the Fire Nation would think—he would almost say he was glad the South Pole had happened.

He was good at healing. He made fast progresswith healing, and through the willinghelp of one of his men. For three years he'd felt so hopeless, so stagnant, working and struggling but never making any noticeable leaps or bounds in his training. Now he had this new talent he was actually decent at right off the bat, a talent he could share with someone else, and it was a nice change if he could look past the outside consequences.

"Fine with me," said Akio, reclaiming Zuko's attention. "I was thinking we could go over illnesses next. Not so sure your bending could help with those, and anyway, sickness is probably the most common thing you'll run into on the ship. What you really have to look for is-"

He was cut off by the opening of the door.

Lieutenant Jee stood in the doorway, eyeing Zuko and Akio oddly. Even though Zuko had attempted to follow his uncle's advice and behave more respectably to the crew, his efforts hadn't accomplished much. Then again, Zuko would be the first to admit he'd been too busy balancing his new training regimen with his efforts to make sense of the Avatar's ridiculous flight patterns to really interact with his men at all. That was probably why Jee thought it so weird he and Akio were in the same room with so little tension between them; Zuko hadn't been around enough for them to be aware of any tangible attitude change taking place.

"What is it, Lieutenant?" asked Zuko, doing his best not to sound annoyed at being interrupted.

"We've finally tracked the Avatar," said Jee. Zuko leapt instinctively to his feet, the word 'Avatar' prompting him into action. "He is on Kyoshi Island."

Zuko opened his mouth to grill Jee for further information, but slowly shut it as the true nature of the situation dawned on him. The Avatar may or may not have killed him the last time they'd met. Even if he hadn't, his failure certainly hadn't been for want of trying. This time around, Zuko wouldn't even have his normal bending with which to defend himself. Nor would he have it to make any offensive moves.

More concerning, however, was that if by some miracle he did capture the Avatar, Zuko would go home to his father. The Fire Lord would then learn what had become of his bending—would learn that he'd died and come back wrong—and would probably banish him all over again. If nothing else, he'd at least keep Zuko safely out of the public eye. His healing training would certainly be stopped, his claim to the throne snatched away, and the entire nation turned against him.

…but he would be home. His father would love him again—at least momentarily. His honor would be restored for as long as it took for his secret to come out.

Agni. The notion sounded pitiful, even to his own ears. Would bothering with this really be worth the effort?

Of course it's worth it. Because if I don't bother, that's it. I'm banished forever. I'll make this work. I have to. I can't just stop trying.

I can't give up hope.

Not yet.

Because if I stop chasing the Avatar, what will I have left?

Zuko took a deep breath and tried to look more confident in his decision than he felt. "Then I suppose we're headed for Kyoshi," he said, cringing at how resigned he sounded. He knew the other men could hear it in his voice.

"Sir?" Zuko turned at the sound of Akio's voice. The other man looked him right in the eye. "You're worried your father won't want you back. Because you can't bend 'properly.'"

Zuko nodded stiffly, finding himself unable to lie.

Akio frowned. "If that's true, and forgive me for saying so, but you're better off out here. Any idiot could see you like this healing stuff, and any good father would be proud of you for being so damn good at it." A pause, and he added, "If you manage to get the Avatar and the Fire Lord still doesn't accept you, remember that you've still got a home on your ship. Nothing compared to what you're used to, I'm sure, but at least you'd get to heal as much as you fucking want."

Jee started coughing. Zuko's eyes widened.

"But…" He shook his head. Akio was underestimating his father. His words were coming from someone without a drop of royal blood. He couldn't understand the pressure the Fire Lord was under to do what was best for the nation. His father would… would have no choice but to get rid of Zuko when he realized his own son was an abomination. It wouldn't—couldn't—have anything to do with his own personal feelings; had no bearing on whether he was a good father.

It would be his duty to send Zuko away.

Still… Akio's words had been sincere, and even if Zuko wasn't willing to believe them, to believe he would be better off away from his home and away from his father, the sentiment was nice, and that last part, about having a home if he were to be banished again-

That last part made him terribly in danger of doing something stupid and emotional.

Dammit. He was being ridiculous. He had to restore an appropriate level of detachment to the conversation.

"My father is in a position where he doesn't have the liberty to be as forgiving as most," said Zuko coolly. There. That was logical. Now he could forget what Akio said and-

The other man snorted, and in a blistering tone of voice he said, "Here I've always been under the impression the Fire Lord can do whatever the hell he wants." Zuko started to protest, but Akio sighed and shook his head. "No—forget I opened my fat, disrespectful mouth. What you've got to do right now is capture that damn Avatar. No use worrying about anything until you've got him."

"Right." Zuko took a deep breath, then turned to Jee, who'd been watching the exchange with interest. "When exactly was he last sighted?"

"Only a day ago, and he showed no signs of leaving anytime soon. We should catch up easily."

"Perfect." He paused, remembering the deal he'd made with Uncle. "Uh, you did good in informing me, Lieutenant. Thank you. I- I'm going to go draw up a plan of attack."

He then left the sick bay, but the questions brought on by Akio's words trailed after him. Most especially the last bit.

While Zuko was sure the first part—the stuff about a good father being proud of him—was utter ridiculousness, reserved for the lower classes if anyone at all, that last thing Akio had said about the Fire Lord being able to do whatever he wanted… that part had been true.

Of course, Ozai was a strong leader, would want to set a good example and act as he would expect his own people to act, but… he was also the one who decided what kind of example it was he wanted to set. That meant Ozai had been acting under obligations he himself had made up when he scarred and banished Zuko.

Then again, that wasn't a new revelation. Zuko had always known on some level that it had to have been the case. And anyway, it was a good thing Ozai hadn't changed his standards because of an inconveniently incompetent son. He'd stuck with the principles he believed in, even when it was surely difficult for him to do so.

His father had done what he did because it was what a great ruler would do. Zuko had acted in a way that was dishonorable to his nation and needed to be punished. Ozai had even tried to help Zuko in the process, had given him a task that would make him stronger, that would teach him the skills needed to be Fire Lord. He'd said so himself, had ensured Zuko that everything that had happened and was happening was for his own good.

And since his father had said it, it had to be true.

Somewhat settled by that conclusion, Zuko picked up his pace as he began thinking over preparations his crew needed to make and directions he wanted to give them. Everything would have to be perfect. He didn't have his offensive bending, and he wasn't confident he could control his flames well enough to be much use defensively either.

But maybe that wasn't such a bad thing. After so many years of dealing with Azula, he'd gotten to the point where he was almost more comfortable fighting from a disadvantage.

…and maybe, just maybe, he was glad had didn't have a very good chance at capturing the Avatar. Because that meant he could push off his worries about what would happen should he return home for just a little bit longer.

…

"I want the Avatar alive," Zuko announced as he and three of his men descended from the ship's walkway, mounted atop komodo rhinos. The dagger his uncle had given him was attached to his belt, available for use if needed. He'd been tempted to take his dao swords as well, but the idea of doing so put him on edge. Not only would the blades' presence possibly draw attention to his lack of bending, but he also didn't feel comfortable broadcasting his proficiency with the weapons. He wasn't even sure Uncle knew the extent to which he'd trained with them, and having such an unexpected ability could come in handy in the future.

He wanted to retain that element of surprise. Especially when there was a good chance his search for the Avatar might continue on past this point.

"You recognize that my bending will be limited," Zuko said as they rode. "That does not mean I want you interfering unnecessarily." He thought back to his last meeting with the boy, recalled the glowing blue eyes, the roaring column of water… the impact of the whip, getting tossed into the sea… suffocating darkness and burning lungs and painful cold. A deep breath, and then: "This is my fight. I'm the one who captures him…" I'm the one who gets hurt if I fail.

"Yes, sir."

"And keep the island's people out of it. Kyoshi is neutral. I don't want to push them to fight against the Fire Nation; my father has enough enemies as it is."

"Of course."

Satisfied, Zuko clutched the reins of his rhino a little more tightly and urged it forward once more. Silence descended upon the men until they reached the entrance of the village, marked by a large statue of Avatar Kyoshi. He could even taste the smell of new paint. It seemed the Avatar's coming had been a celebrated event, at least enough so that someone had given the monument a touchup.

How sickening.

Even more so because now, in the face of a threat, it seemed the boy was nowhere to be found. Indeed, as Zuko looked over the streets of the village, there were few people in sight at all. He could hear the murmuring of several villagers clustered close to the houses, could sense presences attempting to hide behind buildings and merchant stalls, but no sign of the Avatar.

His lip curled. "Come out, Avatar! You can't hide from me forever!"

Nothing.

He looked to his men.

"Find him."

Zuko lingered back with the intention of examining the village more closely as a whole, to see if he couldn't pick out anything suspicious from a broader vantage point, but his plans were derailed when a swarm of girls appeared seemingly from out of nowhere—he couldn't help but be grudgingly impressed that they'd escaped even his keen hearing—and ambushed his men, knocking several from the rhinos and engaging into battle with those left on their saddles.

One of the girls dashed pashed the others, heading straight for him at an admirable speed. Zuko gritted his teeth—he normally would have bended by that point—and forced himself to wait until she jumped at him. Then, at the last second, he yanked the reins of his komodo rhino and the animal whipped the girl with its tail.

He exhaled sharply as she landed on the ground with an ugly thud. For a moment Zuko hesitated, loathe to leave her there when she wasn't injured enough to be out of the fight, but there was nothing else he could do. Not short of getting off his rhino and knocking her out by hand.

Annoyed and frustrated, he made to head forward-

Only to hear the sound of footsteps pattering off the roof behind him.

He threw himself off the rhino moments before one of the warriors would have landed on top of him, hitting the ground and rolling to his feet in one smooth motion. Despite his quickness, he found himself surrounded within seconds. Two of the female warriors, and…

"Zuko! You were-"

Why is the Water Tribe boy wearing a dress?

One of the warriors lunged, leaving him no time to well on the thought. Zuko dodged the strike, then ducked to avoid being hit by the fan of one of the others. Without breaking rhythm, he lowered himself to the ground and kicked the feet out from underneath the first girl. A fist slammed into his shoulder as he spun out of the kick, but the blow glanced off his armor.

Zuko smirked as the water tribe boy cursed and shook out his hand. Taking advantage of the opportunity, he reached out and grabbed the boy's arm, then whipped him around in a full circle before launching him straight into the final girl.

Both slammed into a nearby house, landing on top of each other in a jumble of limbs.

"And yes," said Zuko triumphantly, glaring down at the slightly younger boy. His eyes were still open, but it was obvious he'd hit his head hard enough to be slightly dazed. "I was dead… and now I'm not." At the horror on the other boy's face, his smirk broadened with an air of superiority he didn't quite feel; as much as he was making it sound like he was simply unable to be killed, he knew very well that whatever had happened was a fluke that had nothing to do with him—hell, he didn't even know if he'd really died in the first place, or if he'd simply fallen unconscious and been rescued then.

"What… what are you?" the boy managed to slur.

Zuko stalked away, pretending not to hear because he had no idea how he could possibly answer that question. It honestly shook him up for a moment before he managed to shrug it off—he'd think about that later. He had a mission to complete.

"Nice try Avatar," he said loudly, hoping his voice carried to wherever the coward was hiding—hoping his taunting would lure the boy into the streets. "But these little girls can't save you."

A moment later, his ears picked up the sound of feather-light footsteps. He turned to face the Avatar right as the boy called, "Hey! Over here!"

The monk was standing tall in the middle of the street, dressed in the same airbender clothing he'd been wearing the last time they fought. His staff was extended in front of him in a manner Zuko found vaguely threatening, and his posture reeked of confidence. If he felt any discontentment at Zuko being alive—if he cared in the least that he'd once killed him—the boy didn't show it.

Zuko would neveradmit it, but in that instant, he wanted nothing more than to back down and run away. All he could think of were freezing polar waters—of suffocating and despair and the surefire knowledge that he was going to die. But he needed this—needed the Avatar—and so Zuko pushed those thoughts back and faced the boy with what he hoped was a composed expression.

"So you finally decided to show up."

"Don't sound so proud of yourself," said the Avatar. "I'm hardly afraid of you."

"You should be."

"Then prove it!"

With that Zuko began moving forward, arms dangling at his sides, senses on maximum alert. He remembered how easily he'd found it to predict Zhao's attacks during their Agni Kai—recalled how he had managed to dodge most of them until he'd gotten too close too fast. If he could keep his focus, he could possibly reach the airbender and get Uncle's dagger to his throat. He would just have to be more careful than he'd been with Zhao. Would have to take his time, and-

The Avatar hurled a torrent of air in his direction. Zuko rolled out of the way, then hopped to his feet just in time to spin out of reach of another. As Zuko landed and waited for another attack, the Avatar looked at him oddly.

"You aren't attacking me."

"No," he said, not willing to give away more than that. "I'm not."

The kid shook his head. "But if you don't want to attack me… what do you want?"

Was the boy that big of an idiot? "The same thing I wanted in the South Pole." He took a slow step towards him, but the Avatar moved backwards in response. "I want to capture you. I need to capture you."

"But why-" A crash sounded behind them, and both Zuko and the Avatar turned to see a burning building collapse. Horrified, Zuko scanned the rest of the village, jaw dropping when he realized that there were a host of others ready to follow. He didn't want to care, mentally screamed that focusing on the Avatar was more important—these people could rebuild their village, but without the Avatar, he would never regain his honor—but the part of him that hadn't been able to let that general sacrifice those soldiers' lives three years ago recoiled at what was happening around him.

He'd brought this to the village.

He didn't blame his men—as soon as the warriors attacked, he would have been angry had they not defended themselves—but this… This was bad.

"I-I'm leaving," the Avatar said. Zuko saw that the boy's eyes had filled with tears after noticing the destruction around them. He looked nothing like the monster who had thrown him from his ship. "I'm going to run, Zuko. And if you want to capture me—you'll have to follow."

When he grabbed his glider and took off, Zuko made no move to stop him.

He wanted to leave as much as the Avatar did.

Taking one last look at the burning village, Zuko made to call his soldiers back to the ship-

But then he smelled something sickeningly, disgustingly familiar.

That's burnt skin.

Zuko took off towards the smell, some mixture of empathy and surely misplaced concern prompting him to hurry. The scent was coming from near where the building had collapsed, and as he approached the ruins, he could barely make out a figure curled near the remaining foundation, lying helplessly in the ashes. Its face was black with soot, most of its clothes burned away, along with a lot of skin, but he, she… whichever it was, was still alive—Zuko could just barely hear the fluttering of a heartbeat.

Without even thinking about it, he moved the person to an isolated alleyway and threw himself to the ground near the body. It was a middle-aged woman, he realized now that he was closer. Underneath the ash he could barely make out delicate features, and long, dark hair had been mattered to her head…

She looks like my mother.

He forced the comparison from his mind and tried to focus, putting all of his energy into creating his healing fire. For the first time, he found himself completely and utterly grateful for his ability as the colorful flames sprung to life in his hand.

Common sense telling him to treat the burns along her torso first, Zuko let the fire hover over the woman's charred skin, thinking about his last lesson with Akio. Burn away the bad chi and replace it with good. Clear the underbrush and encourage new life. He was soon able to feel the process taking place. With injuries so serious and his attention focused on her so strongly, he could sense the clearing of chi and the flow of energy much more clearly than he had when he'd healed himself or when Uncle had been playing with his fire.

As Zuko worked, he found himself able to expand the range of his flames and spread them out across more of the woman's burnt body. Doing so required the upmost concentration and when the area spread too big, Zuko felt himself growing more tired by the second, but he only pulled back as much as he absolutely needed to. He wouldn't curb his efforts any further—not when he didn't know if he could afford to do so.

Then the woman stirred. Zuko tensed but didn't let his concentration waver as she began moving. He needed to finish this and was tired enough that he didn't know if he could take care of her injuries if he had to work at calming her down as well. And she was bad enough off that he needed several more minutes at least—she'd only die of infection if Zuko left her as she was, and he couldn't have that. The moment he'd set to healing the woman, he'd felt some kind of responsibility for her.

If she died now, some of the blame could be placed on him. The fact that she reminded him of his mother only amplified his concern.

"Ugh… the… fire-"

"Calm down," Zuko urged. "You're going to be alright."

She groaned and shifted. Zuko finished her torso—or at least enough so that the skin was baby pink, if not a hundred percent healed—before moving on to the burns down her legs.

"Wha-"

"I'm healing you," he said. The gentleness in his voice surprised even himself. "Please, just let me heal you."

Her eyes peeled open. Soft gray looked up at him. Took in his Fire Nation armor. He glanced at her, saw the shock in her eyes and tensed, waiting…

But-

"Thank you."

Zuko swallowed before returning his focus to her injuries. His hands soon grew heavy, and then his eyelids, and as he finished her legs, he registered that his inner fire was beginning to flicker.

He pushed forward and did her arms to the best of his ability, working until his head spun and he could no longer produce a steady flame.

"I… I'm finished," he whispered. "And-" Dammit. Why does she have to look like my mother? "I'm so sorry. We were trying to find the Avatar. I didn't want-"

"I have a daughter your age," the woman interrupted, voice still weak. "She's a warrior too. You fighters have to make hard choices sometimes—I know that."

He thought of the girl warriors he'd so carelessly tossed aside.

Had one of them been this woman's daughter?

Guilt tugged at his heart.

It was because he was tired. He was allowing himself to feel such ridiculous things because he was so tired. "I…"

"Go. If you are sorry—please, take your men and leave us."

"Right. I will. And I am sorry." He looked over his shoulder at the burning and destruction. "Honestly."

He got up slowly, swaying on his feet for a moment. Right when he moved to leave, however, the woman asked, "Can you tell me your name? So… so I know who saved me."

Zuko glanced at her. "Zuko." He took a deep breath. "My name is Prince Zuko."

With that he staggered away, calling for his troops to retreat to the ship as he did so. At some point, he registered that water was falling from the sky—but it was right about then that he collapsed with exhaustion, and so he wasn't sure that that wasn't just wishful thinking.

When his eyes peeled open once more, Uncle was looking down at him, shaking his head.

"We are making too much of a habit of this, my nephew."

Zuko sighed. His head was pounding again, but he at least this time he didn't have to deal with any lingering aches. The woman, whose name he realized he'd never gotten, would be the one with those.

But at least she would be alive.

He hoped her daughter would appreciate that—that the girl warrior would not take her mother's continued presence for granted. The thought briefly occurred to him that perhaps the woman's daughter had died in the fighting, but he wouldn't let himself dwell on the possibility. Even briefly considering it made him feel ill.

Just how much damage had he caused? How many burnt bodies had he not found? If he'd been as intent on chasing the Avatar as he'd been before… would he have even noticed?

"I'm sorry, Uncle." He wasn't sure if he was apologizing for worrying his uncle or for allowing the village to burn.

He could have lured the Avatar outside the village. Could have snuck in by himself and captured the boy when he wasn't paying attention. He could have…

Could have done so many things differently, but instead he'd barreled in there like a savage, put his men, the girl warriors, and the villagers all in danger, and then let things escalate to unreasonable proportions.

Uncle had told him a million times that he needed to think things through. Why was he only just remembering that advice now?

"Oh, Zuko. Don't be sorry. I was simply worried. What happened to you?"

He looked down. "I confronted the Avatar, but as we were fighting… I heard a building collapse, and we both stopped. It had burnt down, and- and so had most of the village. My men had been attacked—it wasn't their fault, but things escalated too quickly and it turned bad. The Avatar left, telling me to follow him and leave the people alone. I was going to listen, but then I-" He paused, catching himself before he admitted he'd smelled the woman. He didn't think even Uncle could fully accept something like that. "I… saw a woman, lying near the collapsed building. She was badly burnt but still alive."

Uncle put a hand on Zuko's shoulder. "You healed her."

He nodded. "I… I had to. And-" He pushed back the urge to cry. "-she looked like Mom. Her face—there was the same kindness there." Zuko chanced a look at Uncle. He looked to be on the verge of tears as well. "She woke up halfway through, and she saw a person in Fire Nation armor kneeling over her while holding fire, but she trusted me when I said I was going to heal her… and she thanked me." A shaky breath. "She has a daughter near my age—one of the warriors we fought against. Is it wrong that I hope the girl is okay?"

"Oh, Zuko." His uncle pulled him into a hug, and Zuko flailed awkwardly for a moment before accepting it. After a heartbeat, Iroh pulled back, eyes glistening with tears. "Of course it is not wrong. But I would not be too worried if I were you. The soldiers say the young Avatar rode the mighty unagi and manipulated the creature into spraying water over the entire village." So the water from the sky had been real. "The fires were all put out."

"But if it was too late-"

"Then that was too late. It is not something that can be changed."

Zuko looked down. "It's my fault."

"Yes," said Uncle. "It is." Zuko cringed. "But that only means you will learn from this experience and be more careful next time. Does it not, Prince Zuko?"

"Of course. But-"

"Not buts." Uncle stood and straightened his robes. "If you are up for it, it is nearly time for your lesson with Akio." A pause. "Unless you are too tired to go?"

Zuko swung his feet over the edge of his bed, wincing when his head spun at the sudden movement. He took a moment to push back the dizziness before getting to his feet. "No… I'm… I'm fine."

It wasn't until that moment that he realized something.

He'd let the Avatar get away. He'd let him leave, and the thought hadn't even entered his head until that moment.

Still… he hadn't been lying. He was fine. He'd lost the Avatar, but had saved that woman's life.

Zuko found himself unsettled by how petty the first seemed when compared with the second.

What in Agni's name was happening to him?

…

Akio looked up as the prince entered the sick bay. Taro rested on a cot, reclining comfortably as he perused a letter he'd just received from home. He'd been in the process of giving Akio detailed commentary about the contents with a dopey smile on his face—it'd been from his wife—when the knocking had sounded on the door.

Now the engineer paused in his reading to look at Zuko with blatant derision. Akio knew something had to be wrong with him when he bristled, but damn him if Zuko hadn't gained enough of his respect that seeing Taro's ugly expression was irritating.

Not even a full week since their lessons started, and already he'd seen how the kid could relax when he really got into something—how Zuko was almost likable when he lost some of his bite and started letting his guard down.

Admittedly, it was also nice to talk about his work with someone who cared. After three years of puttering around in the sick bay by himself whenever he wanted to focus on his healing stuff, Zuko's company was nice.

Now it looked like Taro was ready to chase him off.

"Prince Zuko," said Akio quickly, catching the kid's expression when he saw Taro make to say something. He'd always thought gritted teeth and narrowed eyes meant Zuko was pissed, but Akio had seen the same look on his face after Jee told him the Avatar was in the area. It wasn't anger, he'd realized, but a sign he was settling in for something unpleasant.

And didn't that make him feel like shit for all the times he'd taken that expression as a sign to egg Zuko on?

"I see you're busy," said Zuko stiffly, turning to leave.

"Damn right-"

Dammit Taro.

"No," said Akio firmly. He caught Taro's sidelong glance and almost felt embarrassed for defending Zuko, but even if he wouldn't have been looking forward to the lesson, he would have made sure it happened anyway. Iroh wanted the lessons to happen, and… and anyway, Zuko had given him more than enough reasons to keep them up. No reason to ruin a good thing just because of a tetchy engineer. "Taro, you can finish reading your letter later."

"But-"

"Go."

Taro blinked. Akio was aware the crew had been gossiping about Zuko's frequent visits to the sick bay, but he also knew they'd assumed he'd been coerced into giving the boy lessons, and Akio hadn't made any move to correct those assumptions. Probably why Taro was looking at him like he'd grown another head. It was only a handful of days ago he'd been claiming Zuko didn't have the ability to feel at all.

When he saw the gratitude in the kid's eyes as Taro cleared out of the room, Akio admitted he'd been wrong. Almost made it worth all the explaining he'd have to do later when the crew interrogated him for taking Zuko's side over 'one of their own.'

"That was unnecessary," said Zuko. He hovered just in front of the doorway. Like he thought Akio would change his mind at any second and kick him out for making Taro leave.

"He was just babbling about his wife anyway. Rotted my teeth, it was so sweet." He got to his feet and waved Zuko into the room; thankfully, the prince complied without hesitation. No more commenting on how he'd chased Taro off either. Good. He hated touchy feely bullshit. "So. We were on illnesses when you got pulled off to chase the Avatar. Honestly, my knowledge is pretty limited on that kind of thing, but I figure-"

"Can you show me how to heal burns?"

Akio blinked. "Huh?"

"The village back there—we burnt it down." Akio noticed that he grouped himself in the category of 'we' when his fire couldn't burn shit. The kid was shouldering the blame for something he hadn't done, something else Akio never would've expected of him. "People were hurt-"

"That's why they dragged you back to the ship unconscious," Akio cut in. "Isn't it? Because you exhausted yourself trying to heal hurt people."

Zuko eyed Akio evenly, chin held high—daring him to say anything negative about his actions.

"A person. I exhausted myself healing one person. And there were probably more who were hurt, but-" His posture straightened even more. "But even if I hadn't been tired, I would have left anyway. There'd still been fighting, and more villagers would have gotten caught up in it."

A Fire Nation prince drawing back from his mission to prevent Earth Kingdom casualties. Akio wasn't entirely sure what in the hell to think of that. He found the kid's compassion admirable, but damn, the Fire Lord would not approve. Didn't even know if he did himself—morally, it was obviously right, but it was also a dangerous habit to get into. Might even get Zuko killed in the future.

Didn't want to say that though—refused to tell a kid off for helping people.

Cautiously, he said, "Saving lives is generally a good thing."

Zuko looked like he wanted to add something to that, but instead he shrugged. There was a beat of silence, and then Akio cleared his throat and said, "Burns, then?"

"If that's okay..."

Akio didn't acknowledge that Zuko seemed to only want the knowledge in order to potentially help people who were technically 'the enemy.'

Instead he headed over to where he kept his supplies.

"Perfectly fine. Hell, traveling with firebenders for so long, I consider the area a particular specialty. Can't count the number of times Jee's come down here after training sessions with you. Calls you a little demon—means it in a good way, I think." At least sometimes.

Zuko snorted. "He gave as good as he got." And Zuko had never once come down to the sick bay to get treated. Too proud for it. Or maybe he hadn't wanted to deal with Akio's shit. Probably both. "Jee doesn't have to worry about me anymore anyway. Not with my bending like it is."

"At least you didn't sound entirely pissed off when you said it that time. Seems you're finally starting to come around." Zuko pursed his lips, but didn't argue. "About time; I'd kill for a talent like yours." He nodded to the table in front of him. "Now get over here so I can share my wisdom with the younger generation."

"Agni help us all…"

And Akio laughed, because damn him if he wasn't already growing rather fond of the kid.

…

"Then he kicked me out! Told me to leave-"

Lieutenant Jee shook his head as he listened to Taro's complaints. It was something else, that was for sure, all this about Akio, of all people, defending the spoiled prince. Only Jee wasn't an idiot and he sure as hell wasn't blind, and there'd been somethingdifferent about Prince Zuko since he'd all but drowned—something that made him wonder if maybe the lower-ranking officer didn't have some basis for starting to stick up for him.

Zuko had been keeping to himself a lot more since he fell into the sea. His sparring sessions had stopped, his training reduced to little more than meditating with Iroh. Really, almost all of his time was spent down in the sick bay with Akio or holed up in his quarters, studying his healing scrolls or examining maps of the Avatar's latest travel patterns.

Odd as it seemed, the prince had learned to make himself scarce. When before he stuck his nose in every little bit of the crew's business—got on them for slacking, constantly told them to do this or that differently, personally guided them to every location on the damn map—he now gave tersely polite suggestions or wasn't around at all.

Between that growing phenomenon and Zuko's improving treatment of Akio, Taro had little ground for complaint. It didn't even sound like the brat had done anything, not except for show up for a preplanned lesson. If the men were going to work themselves up over crap like that, problems would start cropping up again. Given how uncomfortable most of them were with Zuko being alive at all, there might even be more talk of mutiny.

Jee supposed he should probably tell Taro to shut up before things escalated.

Of course, that would also mean defending Zuko, and no matter how different the boy had been acting, Jee wouldn't pick him over the crew. Akio's behavior was understandable—the kid was his apprentice or pupil or whatever. Jee didn't have that extra incentive to stand up for him. He'd have to leave Zuko's defense in the hands of someone who actually cared-

"Get over yourself, Taro."

He almost smirked at the timing as Akio sauntered into the mess hall, his sharp features twisted like he smelled something awful. It seemed everyone present bristled at his presence. If the pseudo-medic noticed, he didn't react. Only smirked every bit as confidently as usual as he sauntered over to an empty seat and sat himself down.

He didn't touch his food. Instead he stared at Taro and waited for his friend's response.

"So you're still defending him."

"We made a deal with General Iroh. We treat the kid better. He treats us better. It's worked so far. Don't fuck it up."

There was some grumbling at that. Akio was technically right. The truce had settled Zuko down somewhat and no one wanted to end the reprieve. But a loose deal to spare them a sixteen-year-old's bitching wasn't important enough to warrant anyone taking Zuko's side in anything, not in some of their eyes.

"The General didn't say a thing about giving the kid preference over me-"

"Yeah?" Akio stabbed a piece of fish with his fork and shoved it in his mouth, chewing slowly and staring at Taro in a way that made the engineer squirm. Akio was one of the bigger men on the ship, tall and well-built, while Taro was small and scrappy and a good deal older. The scene reminded Jee of a mongoose-dragon staring down a mouse-rat.

Akio must've seen the effect he was having, because his smirk broadened. "Then maybe you should consider the possibility that the kid deserved it," he drawled.

"Fuck that. No matter how much you like having a little polar dog at your heels, obsessing over all your healing nonsense, the brat is and always will be a selfish bastard who's going to drive us all into the ground searching for the Avatar, trying to reclaim honor and glory he's never going to deserve."

"What kind of asshole bashes a sixteen-year-old boy like that?! You're a grown man-"

"You did the same thing!"

"I regret it. Spend any time with him at all—real time, not time on-duty when he's bossing everyone the hell around because he feels like he needs to—and it becomes pretty damn obvious that he doesn't deserve half of the shit he gets-"

"Come on, Akio," said Ichiro, piping up from a corner. "I'm starting to wonder if the kid didn't come back with dark spirits swarming all around him. It seems one's decided to latch onto you-"

Ichiro didn't even believe in spirits, was just dicking around, but Jee knew the effect his words were going to have even before Taro and Ping jumped to their feet, staring at Akio like he was going to eat them.

Too much.

"Sit the hell down," he snapped, smashing his fist against the table. The two men listened, years of military doctrine ingrained into them well enough that the obedience was reflexive. "Ping, Ichiro… you went onto Kyoshi with Zuko. If the story I heard from Yori is anything close to the truth, the prince let the Avatar get away so he could call you off before the village burnt down … when the only reason it was burning in the first place was because you disobeyed his orders to keep yourselves under control-"

"We were attacked. We had to defend ourselves-"

"That's not his point," Akio cut in. He looked at Taro. "He's saying that Zuko let the Avatar go; that he had to let him go because of his soldiers' actions, and didn't call them out on it at all." A snort. "There are no damn spirits. I'm simply not as blind as you morons. So maybe Zuko died—he's also changed… Either that, or circumstances have forced me around him enough to see that he didn't need to."

"The Avatar fled," argued Ichiro. "I saw-"

"Did Zuko chase?" Akio snapped.

No one answered.

"You know what he told me?" asked Akio. "He told me that 'we burnt the village down.' Like he had a part in that. Didn't accuse you of a thing, said nothing about disobeyed orders." Akio shook his head. "Say what you will, but shouldering the blame like that sounds like something a damn good leader would do."

For once, not even Taro had anything to offer in reply.

Jee sighed and relaxed back into his seat. He hadn't known that second part, but when it all came together, even if Zuko hardly looked like a shining hero, he hardly came across as a spoiled brat either.

Hell, maybe death had been good for the prince.

And maybe that would be enough to keep the crew together until they managed to capture the Avatar.

…

"I'm almost glad Zuko survived the South Pole. Now we don't have to worry about Aang finding out he accidentally killed someone."

"Uh, Katara." Sokka gulped, fidgeting uncomfortably. "I don't think he did survive. When he talked to me, he kinda implied that he had died… and then came back to life."

"You know?" The two water tribe siblings hastily quit talking and looked up towards where Aang was perched on Appa's head, body turned so he could speak with them. "Next time Zuko finds us, I think we should talk to him."

"NO!" Sokka and Katara both blurted at once, not needing to confer at all to agree letting Aang hold an actual conversation with Zuko would be a bad idea. Even if they could somehow find a way to make it safe for Aang, the prince would almost certainly mention what'd happened in the South Pole. Although, Sokka thought, maybe talking to Zuko wouldn't be such a bad thing. We really need to know how he survived falling into the ocean.

And they did need to know. If he was some super-powered, indestructible ultra-bender, Aang would need to know about it.

Of course, Zuko hadn't seemed like all that special of a bender on Kyoshi, hadn't bended once from what Sokka could remember, so that probably wasn't a likely explanation. Not that Sokka could think of anything that was. It occurred to him briefly that maybe not being crippled by the cold water was simply a firebender thing, but he knew that wasn't it. Firebenders had died in the ocean the first time they'd raided the South Pole; even if his memory of the day was a little shaky, he was positive that they'd been somewhat affected by the freezing temperatures.

Then again, that was all irrelevant anyway if Zuko was to be believed. He hadn't said anything about being immune to the cold, or using his firebending to get out of the water safely. He said he'd died. And then come back.

That was a prospect much, much more terrifying than fancy firebending.

"Why not?" asked Aang, still intent on talking with the prince. "I don't think he's a bad person. He didn't try attacking me back on Kyoshi, and when I asked why, he said he didn't want to hurt me—just to capture me."

"Yeah. So he can take you back to his father, where he'll hurt you."

"That's not fair," said Aang. "I bet he's on a mission to catch me or something; he wouldn't want to otherwise, I'm sure of it. He looked really upset when he saw the village burning, let me leave and everything. And even in the South Pole, he stopped fighting as soon as I said I'd go with him. He's not really evil. Just on the wrong side of the war."

"Aang…" said Katara. She looked to Sokka, evidently wanting him to say something. It was a bit difficult, since Aang had made a good point. Zuko didn't come across as evil. Just a jerk.

An apparently immortal jerk.

Still, Sokka had to offer his input; he didn't want Aang talking to the crazy firebender anymore than Katara did.

"He might not be that bad, Aang, but he still wants to capture you. Talking to him would be too risky. We get that you like making friends, but is trying to chat with a potentially not-entirely-malicious firebender worth getting sent back to the Fire Nation for? One slip, and it's the whole world that suffers."

He felt bad, having to use the whole 'Avatar' thing on Aang, but it was the only idea Sokka could come up with that was more or less foolproof.

Still, he winced when Aang's shoulders slumped.

"Oh, right. I forgot about that." He sighed. "It's just, I don't like seeing so many bad firebenders everywhere. And today Zuko seemed decent. If there's hope for him… I don't want to ignore it."

"I know, Aang," said Katara. "But the risk isn't worth it."

Sokka could see the skepticism on Aang's face, but at least he didn't seem as determined to corner Zuko as before.

"I guess." A pause, and he smiled blindly. "But if an opportunity comes up, I'm going to try to get through to him."

Sokka couldn't help but wince; even he would be hard-pressed to listen to the person who killed him. It was almost a given that Zuko wouldn't want to hear a word Aang had to say.

"You do that. Just… be careful, okay?"

"I'm always careful," Aang said with a grin. Then he turned his attention more fully to Katara and started chatting about a totally different subject.

Sokka let out a sigh of relief.

Zuko had ceased to be one of their too-many problems. At least for a very brief time.

...