Hit N Run
Summary – Zuko, the troubled firstborn of a ruthless gangster. Aang, the mischievous young vigilante. They meet on a rainy night, and their story opens the clouds.
Warning – This story includes violence, gang crime, rape, and homosexual relations.
Disclaimer – Nothing of ATLA belongs to me.
Yes, Zuko would say.
No, Azula would say.
Fun, Ty Lee would say.
Who cares, Mai would say.
Yes, Zuko would say, because he is a yes man, even when he means to say no.
No, Azula would say, because she gets whatever she wants, and that includes whatever she doesn't want.
Yes, Zuko would say, because he is persistent.
Yes, Azula would say, because she lies.
You lose, Azula would say, because sometimes she tells the truth.
I won't lose again, Zuko would say, because he hates giving up, even if it means he loses again.
Zuzu, Azula would say, and she's in a good mood and rather snarky at that.
Azula, Zuko would say, and he's not in a good mood at all.
Ty Lee! Mai! Azula would say, and that means she's ready to order them around.
Here I am!, Ty Lee would say, because she likes her job.
Bye, Zuko would say, almost, as he watches his father's secret hit men leave.
Azula's not evil, Ty Lee would say, because she protects her friends.
I'm not evil, I'm just perfect, Azula would say, because she needs no friends.
You're not perfect, you're just batshit insane, Zuko would say, but only when he's drunk.
Why can't we be in a real relationship?, Zuko would say, because he's desperate and he wants the answer, the whole truth.
Who cares, Mai would say.
That's her answer. Nobody says anything anymore.
"Fine!" Zuko roars, unaware of how loud he is as he practically spits in Mai's face. Despite the ten-minute hopefuls he spent with her and all that persistence and confidence, he knew it would end this way. "Take your fucking who cares outside! You can go and not care as much as you damn want! You sicken me!"
He pauses for breath. Actually, it's Azula who sickens him, watching and smirking as if this is all a show put on for her. Mai looks at him with something akin to sadness, maybe pity. Zuko breathes deeply, wondering if that small stir of emotion she feels is enough to make her reach out, apologize, say of course, she's always wanted more.
It's not. Zuko is still glaring and Mai is still doing nothing, so pretty soon Ty Lee mutters that they really should get going, they have a job to do after all. Mai leaves first, and Ty Lee soon after. Neither of them elaborate, but then again, they never do.
The sound of Azula clucking her tongue echoes with disapproval. "Zuzu, you have no tact. Is that how you convince a girl to stay in a relationship with you?"
"There was no relationship to begin with," Zuko says. He slumps down on his bed. They had all been in his room above his uncle's teashop. It is his room since high school, ever since staying at home became a little too dangerous for Zuko and Uncle Iroh urged him to move in with him. Near the university and right above his current job. It's a convenient location, especially for avoiding Azula. He hasn't spoken to her since their bar fight, and they never converse when they're in the same room as their father, but now she's tracked him down.
"I hear you haven't had any success with catching the Avatar," she says. So that must be the reason she's here. "I have to say, I'm concerned. So is Father."
"He doesn't think I can handle myself," Zuko says quietly.
"Well, yes and no," Azula says, treading lightly. When Zuko looks up, she knows she has him properly intrigued. "It's still your job, of course, your own task to carry out. Only you can win or fail. But I can help as well. Father asked me to offer assistance."
"You?" he demands, "No. Wait. What assistance?" He tries to sound confident. "How hard can it be to capture the Avatar, he's a teenager."
"No, I don't think it can be that hard," Azula shrugs, "but he's fast. He's clever. He might even be talented, for all I know. I personally think it's an attitude problem he has."
Zuko ponders for a moment. Azula might be right, the Avatar could easily fight solely with martial arts, but he's cheeky instead. He goes out of his way to embarrass his victims, creating schemes to humiliate the criminals in front of the police. In this way, he's become an attacker of his own. And mocking though he may be, there is always a certain level of pride attached to a winning attacker.
"If you agree," Azula says, glad that Zuko has taken the time to mull it over slightly, "then I would gladly help, say, take him down a notch." Azula smirks. "Then ball's in our court, he's there for the taking."
He recognizes that look in her eyes. It's clever and excited, even a little maddening. Azula is hatching plans, but suddenly Zuko isn't so sure. He knows the kinds of dirty fighting Azula employs. Ty Lee's paralyzing tactics and Mai's knife-throwing are nothing compared to the ways she plays with fire. Liberally-used kerosene and matches are only the beginning, Azula carries flamethrowers and tasers like most girls carry cell phones and lipsticks. And for some reason, Zuko doesn't want to impose that kind of pain on the Avatar.
"No," Zuko says, perhaps a little too firmly because his tone causes Azula's eyes to narrow.
"Why not?" she demands testily. "Afraid I'll be too harsh on him?"
"I'll be plenty harsh on my own," Zuko says, "this is my job. You stay out of it."
"You're making a big mistake," Azula practically spits. "I know you, Zuko, you have a soft heart. You talk big, but the Avatar is younger, smaller. Your instinct is to be merciful. In the end, there's no way you'll pull through. You'll fail, again, and who'll be there to pick up the pieces?"
"The answer is still no," Zuko says stubbornly.
Azula can see when she's losing, but she'll only go kicking and screaming. "You might as well just hand him over to be right now, Lord knows the minute you have him you'll just let him get away."
Instead of answering, Zuko stands up and throws on a jacket.
"Where are you going?" she demands.
"Out," Zuko says, "and so are you. Out. Of my room."
Azula kicks the door open with a scream.
It's an abnormally cool spring evening, quite like the night Zuko first runs into the Avatar, he realizes. The familiarity chills him far more than the air itself. But once he's sure Azula has left, unhappy and dangerous as she is, he strolls almost casually into a local pharmacy. Talking back to Azula is strangely uplifting, he thinks to himself with a grim smile.
People say he could use some fun here and there.
A box of eye drops, for Uncle's dry eyes during evening shifts. A bottle of foot odor powder, for Uncle's unbelievably sour feet that Zuko can smell from a mile away. A packaged facial hair scissors, because Uncle is old-fashioned and still refuses to use the electronic razor Zuko shoves in his face. Zuko stares at his small shopping basket, filled to the brim with products suited for Uncle Iroh.
"I spend more money on him than I have for myself in an entire lifetime," he grumbles, turning a corner and preparing to walk down the next aisle to the cash register. Except it's not as empty as he thinks; the Avatar is there. Looking like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar as he holds a box of Venus Gillette razors in midair.
"Um," Aang says unsteadily, as if the razors are the reason Zuko is staring at him with the look of a crazed hunter, "these aren't for me, I'm shopping for a friend!" When he sees the pile of old-man products Zuko is carrying, he says sheepishly, "Oh, you too, huh?"
For a moment, Zuko could do nothing but stand and goggle at his target standing right in front of them in a place where there is nobody else around but the cashier snoozing behind the counter. Nobody. "Finally," Zuko says quietly.
Aang's eyes don't widen in surprise. He knew this was coming.
Zuko crashes into the aisle of feminine care as Aang leaps out of the way—and oh shit he's running on top of the aisles how did he even get up there—so Zuko makes a dash for the refrigerated section—the glass doors sturdy enough for him to make a running jump off the wall—crashes Aang in the air just as the boy tries to sidle his way out of it—they hurtle sideways, a perfect mess—Zuko trying to grab his limbs with every quick jab and swipe he knows—Aang wiggles free every time—chases him down each aisle—he finds him—now they can finally fight it out.
Except Aang has the most peculiar fighting style he's ever seen. It's not hard and confrontational, as Zuko's is. Something about it almost reminds him of Ty Lee's, light, quick, agile. But even then it's not the same, for Ty Lee is always bound to sneak up and stab you at every angle. But Aang seems to have a different objective. Then, Zuko realizes the difference.
The Avatar doesn't want to fight.
He avoids it at all costs. He hasn't landed any hits because he doesn't try any to begin with. He dodges and evades and is quicker on his feet than air itself. That way, Zuko keeps hitting baby products and birthday cards rather than flesh and bone. At this point, Zuko realizes he's panting softly. He monitors his breath. Now he understands exactly what people say when they marvel at his speed. The wiry teenager is practically inhuman.
Half the store is on the floor. Zuko almost trips on a pile of flashy-covered books as Aang evades him once again. It's more than a little annoying, it infuriates him. He takes a moment to hold his breath, seeking the sounds of Aang's soft footsteps sprinting through the store. Coming out of nowhere with an iron grip on Aang's wrist, Zuko throws him against the wall and holds him steadfast.
"Why won't you fight back?" he roars.
Aang takes a second to stop struggling to look up at him, and suddenly Zuko is struck by the purity of his looks. No wonder the Avatar is hero of many, his hands are clean. Heaving above him, Zuko is the underground crime prince. He feels like a raging monster of black locks and a mutilated eye. The contrast is there, so undeniable, from Zuko's illegally expensive wind breaker to Aang's bright but shabby hoodie.
Aang gives him an uneasy smile. "What is there to fight against?"
Zuko narrows his eyes.
"What are you fighting for, Zuko?" Aang continues. Zuko is momentarily shocked (how does he know my name?) but there are more pressing concerns, like when Aang says, "do you think handing me over will protect you from your own enemies?" Zuko subtly remembers the night Aang saved him. So he understands. "I'm sorry that I have to be your target." The Avatar knows that too. Shit, he has every advantage. "But I'm not your enemy. I'm your friend."
Something deep inside Zuko gurgles with rage. The Avatar might think he's a good guy, and Azula might take him for a wimp, but Zuko was going to prove he was capable of this. His hands reach to clasp Aang's neck. His thoughs run a mile a minute. He'll choke him, cut off Aang's air supply until he's limp, unconscious, easy to transport. If people ask, he'll say his friend passed out, he's helping him home. And then—
A powerful kick to the groin leaves Zuko in a painful stance, gasping in shock. Then he feels Aang biting the hands at his neck.
He underestimated him. He took his ambivalence for defeat, not strategy, and now he understands that even the Avatar is prepared to fight dirty.
Nursing bleeding knuckles, Zuko engages in their first hand-to-hand combat but knows he's losing. Strong as he may be, Aang cheats. He wretches open the nearest container, which turns out to be a tall bottle of Dove shampoo, and hurls it at Zuko's face. It covers his hair, creeps into his eyes. Zuko wipes it off within seconds but Aang has already disappeared. At this point, he could still be in the store, or he could have escaped by now. It's time to retreat, recuperate, figure out just why he fucked up so badly. Frustrated and humiliated, Zuko switches aisles and grabs the basket of goods for Iroh, conveniently forgetting to pay for it as he storms out of the store. The alarm goes off immediately.
"What's going on?" the cashier says groggily, rousing from his nap. Aang watches from the window as Zuko disappears down the street. The store is left a mess. He groans inwardly. How can anyone sleep through that ruckus, he reasons, but get woken up by a few beeps?
At this rate, he'll be here all night. Sokka will be furious at him for not getting his favorite razors.
Yes, Aang would say.
Yes, Aang would say, because he's an optimist.
No, Zuko would say, because he thinks he's a pessimist.
Fight, Zuko would say, because that is what he was taught.
Defend, Aang would say, because that is what he taught himself.
Hope, Zuko would say, because that's what he sees when he sees Aang.
Hope, Aang would say, because he's glad to give it to people.
I'll capture you, Zuko would say, because it's practically the only thing he's living for right now.
Really?, Aang would say, because he's unconvinced.
I can't, Zuko would say, though not out loud.
Why not?, Aang would say, because he'd like the chance to talk to Zuko, really talk this time.
I don't know, Zuko would say. He really doesn't.