It was the eyes. That glimmering blue, so unusual and exotic. That was how he remembered her; nothing else was familiar. She was clothed in a blue robe, her long brown hair falling to her waist. And sitting behind her was his ticket home.

"Who are you?" he demanded. If her face was going to haunt him, he would at least attach a name to it.

"My name is Katara. And I'm the only Waterbender left in the Southern Water Tribe. " she replied. Her voice seemed to quiver, but her stance was strong. She was not going to let him by without a fight.

A stream of fire erupted from the burning grass, arcing towards her head, only to be stopped by a thick shield of water. So she wasn't lying, he thought as he curved the second attack around her defense, hitting her from behind and sending her flying into the trunk of the tree that grew in this mysterious cave. You need to keep your guard up, he wanted to tell her. There was much she could learn from fighting him. Always protect your back as well as your front. Catching his breath, he waited for her to spring up and send a wave of water at him. Instead, she stayed slumped against the rough bark, her eyes closed. A jolt ran through his chest.

What have I done?

He walked to her side, looming over her still form as he studied the calm, unmarked face. She was slim and young, not much older than his sister now. She had a certain quality about her mouth that made him think that while she could be all-smiles one moment, she could just as quickly kill you with one look. The rich blue of her thick tunic was embroidered with patterns that danced and swirled like the water she could control.

She should not be alive, he realized. All of the Southern benders were supposed to be dead. So how had she survived? How had she escaped the fool-proof grip of his nation? Where had this gentle girl been hiding? He could nearly feel it, how agonizing it must be to be the last. A stale memory of a by-gone era. Standing out where you should have blended into the background.

Deciding that she shouldn't stay curled like a lump on the ground, he gently propped her upright against the tree. Brushing a lock of hair away from her face, he felt a jab in his heart. She seemed so... so good. So pure and innocent. So... everything he, the banished prince, was not. His fingers skimmed over the bump on the side of her head, and he winced like she had sent a knife through his back. He didn't want to hurt her. But the Avatar was what he needed, and Zuko did not lose.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I wish I could tell you just how sorry I am, he thought. Out loud, he whispered, "I have to take him," ignoring the pain it caused him to rise and walk away. Maybe one day he could talk to her. Explain why he was doing this. Talk about her life in that desolate village. Tell her in his own words the story of his scar.

But first, he had to regain his honor and his throne.

Then, he would be ready.

A/N: Wow, this is probably one of the shortest submissions I have ever written for ZW. And yes, it didn't really match up to the theme of 'Pain,' but right now I am too tired to care. So ha.

I case you didn't know, this was the fight scene in the movie from Zuko's POV. Not a very good movie (in my opinion) but at least they gave us this one little light of hope.

Don't worry, tomorrow's will be longer and not so serious!

EDIT: Fixed a wrong line, plus some other little things.