AN: This one is short because it's taken me so long to update! I was originally planning on this story being completely in Katara's POV, but I think the writing gets pretty stiff and boring, and I've come to the conclusion that I don't think it works for ATLA. So here's some Zuko POV! And things get kinda intense! Hope you enjoy it. :)

Zuko actually wasn't sure what the plan was, if there even was one, if there was anything he could really do. Basically, he was stalling. Having the girl learn about Fire Nation society from Ty Lee was just a way to get her away so he could think, maybe talk to his Uncle.

He had no idea how he could protect this seemingly fragile, but unbreakable girl from his ruthless sister. He didn't know why he was trying to protect her, and what was the point in protecting her anyway? Because his uncle had taken pity on her, had taken her in? And now he'd been sucked into it. He cared about her, and it was difficult to explain why. But they both had lost their homes, and, not that she knew, their mothers. Unsettling similarities existed between them, but he was willing to let it all stay in the background until there was a real reason to bring it up.

It felt like she was another lost child he was trying to save, but the difference was that this time, they had no blood connection, no connection at all. That was one fault he saw in the old man: forever trying to save the hopeless. When Zuko had been banished on that fateful day, Iroh sat by his bedside for hours, saying nothing, because he knew the tumult of emotions that were drowning the boy. As the weeks went by, and Zuko was preparing for his banishment, the old man coaxed him into letting him join the few soldiers that would attend him. It didn't take much though, with his father disowning him, Azula alarmed but smirking, and his mother...

He needed someone to guide him, and Iroh was the only man in his life who cared for him. His grandfather scorned him for his poor bending abilities, and his father, anxious for the throne himself, parroted the same words to his son in private. Lu Ten had been a brotherly sort of figure, but his life had been snuffed out when Zuko was young himself. The rest were nobles that tolerated him, and servants who did as they were bid. Iroh was the only person in his life who believed in him, thought he could be more than the scarred, banished prince.

Mai had never said good bye. To be fair, she hadn't heard about his Agni Kai until weeks later from her father, by which point Zuko was already searching in the Earth Kingdom. She told him upon his arrival that she'd written him letters throughout the years; hadn't he gotten any of them? He had, but they weren't comforting. At first, they were about Azula and Ty Lee, their training, how she missed him. Then they became dry, cardboard, as if they were strangers. She had a brother now. Her training with throwing knives was improving. The weather was hot and dry. The letters stopped in his last two years.

What made him go back to her? It was ultimately comfort. They knew each other, there had been a childish connection between them, an inkling of affection. That and it improved his image that he had someone so soon after returning, that it was even his childhood sweetheart. But she'd become colder, and he'd become...something; he wasn't sure. He wasn't sure of much since he'd gotten back.

So the girl was another person for his uncle to mold, to comfort, to teach. He wondered if it would take another six years, as it had with him. But there was no task for her. There was no honor to restore, no search to be had. Her family was most likely dead, her homeland in ruins. The only thing Iroh could teach her was to accept what had happened and move on. That's probably what the meditation was for, to keep her from despairing.

She'd told him during her breakdown that she lied about her name. When he asked what he was supposed to call her, she said it made no difference. His understanding of her name had gone from "girl" to "Kala" to "Kanna," and now it was back to the beginning. He wanted to know what it was though, but he knew it was pointless to ask, so he called her nothing now, and in his mind, it was just "she."

The girl in front of him shrugged with an expectant look. "Where am I supposed to find her? Your Highness?"

He noticed how she would do that. If they argued or she teased him, she dropped the titles, but after a while she seemed to remember herself, and began to add it back. "She spends time in the garden after lunch. Usually doing cartwheels and back flips, so she's easy to spot."

She nodded, her face blank.

"I don't think she'll say anything about your eyes being creepy."

She turned those eyes on him, glaring, her lips pursed. "That's not what I was thinking about."

"Oh, sorry, Kanna." Maybe he could trick her into saying her real name.

But she said nothing, only stared at him. Her eyes weren't so much creepy as penetrating, like she knew he was hiding something. He thought that if she kept that stare up for long enough, he might spill every one of his secrets to her.

"You said," he started, unsure of where he was going, "That the soldiers were looking for you."

Her face turned to stone and she stared at nothing. Maybe this wasn't the best time.

"You don't have to talk about it," he said with a shrug. "I just-"

"Why do you act like you care about me now? You threatened me when we first met, fought some Agini Kay with me the next, then avoided me for weeks, and as soon as I spill my guts to you, you start caring?"

"Agni Kai," he corrected her.

Her face was red, and he could see her hands shaking. With fear or rage he couldn't tell. "What?"

"It's an Agni Kai."

Closing her eyes for a moment, she put her fingertips to her temple. "That isn't the point. The point is, you never act the same way towards me, and I can't understand why you care. Iroh said that after I fainted, you started spending time with us without him asking you to. Why?"

Zuko hadn't expected her to be so upfront, which was pretty dumb, considering she'd been confrontational since day one. He hadn't expected to have to explain his interpersonal skills with her either.

"Is it because I cried to you and you feel sorry for me? Because I don't need you to feel sorry for me." She crossed her arms over her chest. The deep shade of her skin made him think that she would be warm if he touched her. "Are you listening to me?"

His attention snapped to her face. "Yeah, I'm listening." He took a deep breath, but before he could speak, she was on him again.

"So what's your answer?" she asked harshly.

"Would you give me a second?" he huffed.

Her lips tightened in a straight line and she stared at him, waiting.

He turned away from her. With a sigh, he began. "I'm not really good with people. Talking is difficult, and I have all these ways I'm supposed to act around people. I have to be the perfect gentleman with Uncle, firm around the guards, ignore the servants, charming with nobles-"

She snorted.

He whirled around and glowered at her. "I said I have to be, not that I am."

"So you don't know how you're supposed to act around me? I'm a servant, so you should ignore me, but Iroh expects you to treat me like a lady?" That harsh tone of hers was unrelenting.

He looked away from her, out on the garden. "Something like that."

"Well you'd better figure out which one you're going to follow, because trying to figure out how to act around you is getting tiring."

Zuko looked back at her, but she was glaring at the floor to her left. "You're not all that stable in how you treat me either."

"Then we should just decide now: Are we going to interact the way your father would have us, or the way your uncle would?" Her voice was determined, and the look in her eyes matched. She didn't move, her arms still glued to her chest. There was a fierceness about her he found intriguing. Even when she seemed to have fallen apart, she hadn't. She had strong resilience.

"What would you prefer?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

She rolled her eyes. "I'd prefer to be home, but that's not an option. So am I calling you 'Your Highness' or-"

"Zuko."

The girl stared at him blankly. She didn't understand that he'd answered.

"You can call me Zuko."

She blinked, looking uncertain. "Zuko."

"What do I call you?" It really didn't matter. It didn't change who she was. A Southern bender that lost her family. But he still wanted to know.

Inhaling, she looked at one of the walls. Her arms uncrossed and hung them at her sides. She closed her eyes tightly and brought her arm up, sneezing into it a few times. Her hands on her hips, she stared directly at him. "I confessed all my homesick, suicidal emotions to you. If you want to know, you're going to have to tell me something big."

She could tell he was ticked off, but it didn't bother her. If she told him her name, he would have something to potentially hold over her. She needed something in return. It was survival for the sake of having a friendship.

"Like what?"

The girl shrugged. "What do you think is a big enough secret?"

He eyed her wearily. "Why does it have to be a big secret?"

"Leverage. You tell on me, I tell on you."

Zuko looked unconvinced, biting his lower lip. His teeth were, surprisingly, a bit crooked.

"Very well, Your Highness," she said with a bow, before turning to leave.

"Wait!"

She stilled a grin, turned back to him.

Looking around the doorways, still biting his lip, he walked to her, whispered in her ear, "I think my mother was murdered."

She stared at him in awe, her mouth slightly agape. "That's...a bigger secret than I would have expected you to share."

There was no Fire Lady in the picture, she had understood that since the first fittings. Maybe divorced, maybe dead, but murdered had not been in her thoughts. Though with the Fire Lord's temperament, it was more than plausible. No one spoke of her, no one mentioned the phrase "Fire Lady," except for the instance Iza told her the title, how she had gotten her job as the royal seamstress.

"Not here." He motioned for her to follow him.

They left Iroh's rooms, and headed into Zuko's anteroom. It was lit this time, and she was grateful she didn't need to see him bend.

"What happened?" she asked quietly.

"One night, years ago, before I was banished, my mother came into my room. She woke me up and told me everything she had done was to protect me." He paused, his eyes focused on his hands on the table. "The next morning, she was gone.

"I asked where she was, but my father told me to shut up about it. She was gone, and there was nothing I could do about it. Azula laughed at me, said it was my fault she wasn't there anymore, that I'd need to find someone else-" He broke off, and she could sense it would be better not to force him to finish the sentence.

"My grandfather was dead that same morning, and my father took the throne as Fire Lord." Zuko turned his eyes on her, and his voice trembled as he spoke. "I think he killed them both."

She stared at him, unable to think how it was possible. "They-they didn't find her body?"

He shook his head. "No blood, nothing of hers was missing. She was just gone." Tears were forming in his eyes.

After a moments' hesitation, she went to him, kneeled, wrapped her arms around him. He was still for a moment, then returned the hug woodenly, but rested his forehead on her shoulder. The warmth from his body spread through her, and she felt a sort of comfort settle over them. Remembering how he had treated her when she cried, she put a hand at the crown of his head and stroked his hair. He relaxed into the hug.

Her voice was a croak as the word came out, afraid. "Katara."

"Katara," he mumbled. "Thank you."

Katara stared at the wall, still stroking his hair. She'd made an unexpected friend. She'd shared her name. And she learned about a possible double homicide on nobles in the Fire Nation.