A/N: another chapter for you. I'm definitely letting my words run away with me more in this story because this chapter is ten thousand words long! I don't even know how!
Chapter 3
Katara
Katara strolled through the door five minutes early when her Monday morning literature class rolled around and continued without a pause until she once again stood directly in front of Zuko as he was doodling in the back of his book.
It took him a moment to notice her and he quickly flicked the pages over until the only notes Katara could see were clearly classwork as he looked up with an expression made up of surprise and confusion fitting themselves in around baggy eyes and drooping lids.
"What do you want?" He asked almost warily.
Which was fair, Katara acknowledged internally as she thought back to how every other interaction of theirs had gone.
"I'm sorry," she stated and cursed herself for her abruptness.
Zuko's wariness had not disappeared even as it seemed now to be accompanied by a deep concern for her sanity. "What for?" He asked slowly.
"I'm sorry if my brother's loud mouth got you fired on Saturday." She explained. And she was sorry, even if a rich kid like him didn't exactly need a job like she and her brother did... it was still a rotten thing to be an accomplice to, even inadvertently.
"I didn't," Zuko replied. "...Get fired, that is," he added, just to be clear.
"Oh," Katara voiced as she finally put two and two together, "that was your dad we got you in trouble with wasn't it?"
Zuko bit his lip and nodded slowly.
"Oh, well that's a relief!" Katara exclaimed, throwing a hand over her chest and sagging slightly at the relief, "At least it was only your dad and not an actual boss. So, what happened? Did he give you a lecture or something? Did you get extra chores?"
"Yeah, something like that," Zuko agreed uneasily.
Which was a little strange and Katara would have asked about it but Mr Pakku walked in and called for order so he could start his lesson.
So instead she took her usual seat at the front of the room and focused on absorbing everything that Mr Pakku was saying, and forgot all about what she was going to say. In fact, she pretty much all but forgot about Zuko until their lesson the following Monday, when Mr Pakku announced that their next project for class required them to work in pairs.
Katara groaned. She hated group work in general because she hated the idea that her grade would be dependent on someone else, and she hated group work in particular because Katara was steadily growing to hate this class. Both the subject and the people in it.
Although she supposed, she probably wouldn't hate the subject quite so much if she were in a class that wasn't filled with clowns. And yes, she absolutely included Mr Pakku in that.
Mr Pakku had to raise his voice to be heard over the hubbub that had arisen among the students at the mention of partners. "Don't get too excited, I've already put you into pairs." Mr Pakku groused once he had achieved quiet, and continued "Now when I call out your names, quickly find your partner and take a seat next to them so I can tell you about your project."
Mr Pakku then proceeded to rattle off the names of the pairs, determinedly ignoring the protests that arose at some of the pairings. At the mention of her and her partner's name, Katara twisted around to see Zuko piercing her with his eyes. She couldn't decide whether the remainder of his expression was more horrified or sheepish.
Although she was impressed that he managed to express two such incongruous emotions with only one face.
When it seemed certain that Zuko wasn't going to be moving to her, she picked up her things and moved to the seat next to him.
"So..." Katara drawled in the face of the extremely awkward atmosphere, "We have to work together on a group project now, huh?"
"I guess we do," Zuko offered weakly.
With nothing else to say between them, they both tuned in to Mr Pakku just as he was beginning to explain the project, which apparently, involved the worst aspect of literature class. Speech giving.
Katara barely listened to the rest of the brief. She was too busy mentally saying her goodbyes because this speech was going to be the end of her.
Zuko
When Zuko finally flopped onto his bed on Monday afternoon, (minutes after he had finished cleaning the bathrooms in record time,) he couldn't help but groan into his pillow.
Crap.
He had barely survived two weeks of double shifts at the gym and now he had to do a group project.
With a girl. (Azula was going to have so much fun with that one.)
And, moreover, a girl who seemed mostly to be infuriated by his very presence. Or who simply held a fierce grudge against him for something. Or who was prone to wild mood swings.
He wasn't entirely sure which option was the truth, they all seemed equally likely.
He just wanted to go to sleep, (and maybe try the whole day again because the first time around had clearly been a bust,) and he had fallen behind on his homework for obvious reasons, his laundry hamper was overflowing and he needed to start dinner in an hour. (However magical time phenomena were, to his knowledge, rarely a pleasant experience and in any case, purely fictional.)
Plus he was still recovering from the previous day when Long Feng had drilled them all until Zuko was about ready to collapse, he could feel bruises having formed overnight on his arms and legs and even his back from all the mistakes he made, and in his exhausted state Zuko had made plenty of mistakes, (not that he didn't make enough mistakes when he was well rested,) but Zuko had a feeling that if he looked, he would be practically polka dotted under his clothes. And his muscles had been screaming at him all day for even the tiniest movement.
Feeling his eyelids start to weigh something in the region of five tons, Zuko quickly set a timer for an hour and succumbed.
Zuko was really beginning to hate the sound of his alarm, the shrill beeping feeling like a personal attack every time it went off. In fact, Zuko wouldn't be surprised if he started to have nightmares about it.
He rubbed his face and rolled onto his back, eyes drifting lazily in lieu of getting up. His gaze wandered slowly from the view through his skylight, across the ceiling and idly danced over his bookshelf and his desk; he felt like weeping when his eyes fell on his school bag which was brimming with homework.
Suck it up, Zuko thought to himself. The familiar thought travelled his neurons like a well-worn path and Zuko wouldn't be surprised if the phrase had somehow imprinted itself on the inside of his skull.
But Zuko always tried to do as he was told, even if it was just him doing the telling, so he pushed himself to sit on the edge of his bed and dragged his bag over so he could look through it.
Realising that he had maths homework due the next day, which was even worse than science, Zuko reluctantly pulled the relevant materials out of his bag and stumbled down the stairs. Zuko had already decided that dinner would be something he could just stick in the oven with little to no extraneous effort. And while the food cooked he could do his homework; even though Zuko privately felt like he was fairly competent with everyday maths and that anything more difficult could, and should, remain strictly calculator territory.
But that kind of thinking wouldn't get him through school and it definitely wouldn't impress his father so he put everything in the oven, set another timer and got to work.
Zuko was only halfway through the assigned problems when the timer went off for the oven.
He slid off his stool and with practised motions, plated up the meals for himself, Azula and his father.
Placing two of the plates on trays with cutlery, he picked up said trays and made his way to his father's office and knocked on the door.
"I have your dinner," he called through the door.
"Put it on my desk," came the reply.
Zuko opened the door with his elbow, walked the few steps over to Ozai's desk and slid the tray onto a free space. He performed the whole operation as quietly and as gracefully as he could - his father's office had always had an overwhelming air of class and sophistication and professionalism and other adjectives that Zuko could never seem to live up to, but nevertheless made him want to try.
Zuko didn't wait for an acknowledgement he knew wasn't coming and slipped back out of the room.
He went straight to Azula's room next and gave another knock. "Dinner's ready."
He heard some movement behind the door before it suddenly flew open and Azula was grabbing the tray out of his hands.
"Great. Thanks. You can scuttle off now." Azula barked when Zuko didn't immediately make a move.
"Fine," Zuko grumbled, raising his hands and making his way back towards the kitchen and his own waiting dinner.
He resumed his previous seat and ate his dinner while going back to his homework.
When he finished eating he slipped his plate into the sink and made a cup of tea because there was always something comforting about a cup of tea. And with the way his maths homework was going, he could really do with some comfort. (He tried not to think about how scandalised Uncle Iroh would be if he saw Zuko quickly heating the tea in a mug with his hand instead of brewing it with proper care in a pot.)
He had managed to struggle through about three-quarters of his homework before Ozai appeared, carrying his dinner tray with him.
Ozai swept past Zuko and set the tray on the counter before pouring himself a glass of wine.
"My office needs a clean after you've cleaned up here," Ozai declared coolly.
Zuko suppressed a sigh and mourned the loss of his early night. "Yes sir," he acknowledged quietly.
His father simply nodded and turned to leave the room.
"Dad?" Zuko called out hesitantly and Ozai neared the doorway.
"What?"
"Is it true that there's no tuition fund for me?" Zuko was afraid to ask the question because of the consequences that could arise from it, the worst of which being an answer he didn't like.
"What would be the point of sending you to uni, Zuko? You don't seem to have any talent for any useful subject, and I'm not going to pay for you to get a literature degree of all things!" he said scathingly, "you're better off just working through and if your firebending improves you might be able to win some prize money at a few tournaments here and there."
"I can do better," Zuko insisted, "I can get my grades up in time to apply for uni courses."
"I highly doubt that." Ozai dismissed.
Zuko could tell Ozai was already tired of the conversation and knew he had to act fast if he wanted to change the outcome. "I promise I can. I'll work extra hard on all my homework, I'll even get tutoring if I have to." Zuko bargained with quickly emerging desperation.
"You want to get a tutor? And publicise your incompetence?" Ozai scoffed, "You will do no such thing."
"Please Dad, I'll be better."
Ozai sighed tiredly. "If you can get your grades up on your own, so you finish school with perfect grades, only then will I consider sending you to uni. But there better be no slacking off anywhere else either, you better keep up with all your chores, keep up with your shifts and don't let your firebending slip any further, you understand?"
Zuko gulped. "Yes sir."
"And I won't be sending you to uni just to waste my money on some ludicrous, worthless course at some third-rate campus. You'll be going where I send you and studying something respectable."
"Yes sir," Zuko said miserably.
The notion of going to uni, when it had first entered his consciousness, had been vague and distant and had always seemed like something that would just happen to him. Like becoming an adult. When he had been young, the idea had barely occupied his thoughts, but as he grew he began to see uni as an opportunity. It began to symbolise independence, maybe some fatherly pride, breathing space. And he began to actively want it. Now he was practically desperate for it. And although he had begun to realise uni might not be quite the pristine symbol of hope he had previously thought: his independence would not be complete, (he would probably have had to study something his father deemed respectable anyway,) going to uni would not inspire the fatherly pride he had always dreamed of, (Zuko was sure there was some indefinable, deeply reprehensible quality he possessed which stunted all but the most stalwart of bonds established between him and anyone else.) But breathing space, at least, would be a welcome outcome.
But even though the concept of uni had become increasingly tarnished over recent years, the idea still had enough merits to keep a metaphorical shine on it. Even now as he realised he would be much more beholden to Ozai for much longer than he had originally thought, he still wanted it.
Ozai seemed to calm himself down. "Don't forget my office," he said, leaving Zuko to stew in his misery alone.
He decided that he would just have to power through his homework and then try to complete his chores as rapidly as he could and hope that he would be able to crawl into bed somewhat early.
So Zuko bowed his head to focus on the books in front of him and with a mental thank fuck for that as he finished his last problem, slammed his book closed.
He glanced over at the sink and rolled his eyes when he saw that he would have to go fetch Azula's plate from her room. Well, he needed to put his books back in his bag anyway.
"Hey I need your plate," Zuko called through the door with a light knock on his way back down to the kitchen.
"I'll bring it down later!" Azula called back.
"No, I'm putting the dishwasher on now. Why can't you just pass me your tray?"
"Oh my spirits! Fine!" Zuko heard a lot of rustling and a couple of sounds that would best be described as clatters, and then Azula opened her door and thrust the tray into his chest. "Here's your stupid tray. I hope you two are very happy together," she snarked before slamming the door shut once again.
"Thanks, you're so generous," Zuko deadpanned at the door.
At the end of the day, Zuko only managed to get to bed fifteen minutes earlier than usual. He lay in bed contemplating the alarm he was currently in the middle of setting and briefly wondered if it would be worth it to just... not.
His hasty promise to boost his grades now seemed both naive and unachievable, and his dad probably wouldn't even notice... until the school tried to call him. And then Zuko would be in very real danger of being skinned alive.
Unfortunately, that wasn't as much of an exaggeration as people usually meant it.
With a sigh, he pressed the button to turn on his alarm and rolled over to burrow into his bed. Sleep was not far away and Zuko sank into it with a grateful sigh.
The next day started just as painfully and groggily as the previous fourteen, with a hand shooting out of the covers and fumbling to switch off that incessant beeping.
Zuko was a morning person. He was a firebender, and firebenders were morning people. It was hard to have a deep spiritual and physical connection to the sun and not be a morning person. What Zuko was not, however, was a work yourself to the bone then only get five hours sleep kind of person. And especially taxing, was the fact that this had been his modus operandi for the last few weeks.
Zuko allowed himself one groan before he threw back the bedclothes and promptly got ready for school. He hadn't allocated himself time for anything else.
By the time he was out the door and grabbing his bike, Zuko knew he would have to pedal hard to make it to school on time.
But he made it, even though he was a little out of breath, and slipped into his first class with a minute to spare. And because this was high school, he still had plenty of seats to choose from. Including his preferred choice at the back, as students who cut it even finer than he had filed in behind him.
The morning was unremarkable as far as Tuesday mornings went, and it wasn't until he was sitting in the library at lunchtime that his day took a turn towards the remarkable.
It was the girl from literature class. And she was heading straight towards him. Her curls billowed out wildly in her wake apart from where she had pinned some pieces at the front out of her eyes, her azure dress rippled and undulated mesmerizingly with her fluid movements, and her eyes sparkled like bright, beautiful, cold sapphires.
"Zuko," she stated flatly as she sat down across from him.
"Yes, Katara?" He asked. He didn't know whether he was more weary or wary and at this point, he was struggling to tell the difference.
"We need to work on the literature project."
"Right now?"
"What's wrong with that? We never exactly scheduled a study session and I'd like to at least make a start on it before Friday."
"Sure?" he hedged. Most conversations with Katara made him feel like he was walking around in an ancient, booby-trapped tomb and, despite how careful he was, managed to trigger every single one.
Katara eyed him suspiciously.
"We can work on it now," Zuko quickly assured with more confidence in his tone.
"Okay," said Katara in a way that suggested that she had been fully prepared to angrily argue her point with him and now had to let it go all at once. However she made a valiant effort to continue despite having lost all her momentum, "we don't have that long left of lunch, so shall we just set a time to meet up and agree to think about topics in the meantime?"
"Right, well I'm free Friday if that works for you?"
"I have plans on Friday," Katara replied slowly.
"I'm busy every other evening this week," he explained apologetically. He had bookmarked that evening for homework anyway, what did it really matter if he would be working with Katara instead?
"Oh. Well, I'd really rather not have to cancel."
"Oh..." Zuko agreed, "What if we meet up tomorrow lunchtime? If we eat quickly we can spend at least half an hour on this before next lesson and then we can meet up at the weekend for a proper study session?"
"Okay. That sounds good, actually," Katara said. "When should I come over?"
"You... you want to come over to my house?" Zuko practically spluttered. He had just been beginning to think the conversation was going well, he hadn't managed to upset her yet, and then she dropped that bombshell on him.
"Well yeah." She pointed a finger towards him and Zuko tried not to read the gesture as accusing, "Uptown boy," she said before turning her finger onto herself, "downtown girl, remember? My house doesn't exactly have a lot of space."
"Oh," he said again because he was too busy reeling from the turn the conversation had taken (and mentally berating himself for being surprised because he really should've been expecting something like this) and starting to dread Saturday, to come up with something else to say.
"Do you have a problem with that or something?"
"No," he lied, "I just wasn't really expecting you to want to come over to mine."
"Well it's probably the only chance I'll ever get to see the inside of a rich person's house so I'm not letting the opportunity pass me by," Katara said casually.
"Oh, right," Zuko said weakly just as the bell rang for the end of lunch.
They parted ways and Zuko spent the entire walk to his next class hoping Katara wasn't going to expect a grand tour.
Shit. She was, wasn't she?
He made his way uneasily through the rest of the school week. But Friday eventually arrived with the same reluctance that children show to eating broccoli, heralding the end of one more week of school. Zuko was taking the opportunity to privately revel in it and thought about taking the long way home as he unchained his bike just so he could feel the wind in his hair a little longer before exchanging one grim facet of his life for another.
His bike was a good one, in the vainest sense of the word. It was bright red and had an aerodynamic design and was fashioned from a lightweight alloy with state-of-the-art suspension, stylish handlebars and a very comfortable, professional standard saddle which Zuko was sure cost well in excess of four thousand yen. And it was all bought for him because the money he had saved from his wages every week for just over a year had only been enough to buy him a plain but serviceable road bike which had been deemed unacceptable at first glance by Ozai and therefore peremptorily replaced.
(If Zuko had had a disposition inclined towards extortion, he could have acquired any number of things by simply possessing and drawing his father's attention to cheap or weathered versions of whatever he wanted. As it was, Zuko was of a more sentimental temperament and valued things because of the time it took to save for them et cetera, or, in the case of gifts, because of who the gift giver was, not the amount spent.)
He freed his bike and lined it up to face the exit of the car park and was about to swing his leg over when he looked up and paused at the sight of his cousin leaning against his car on the other side of the street.
Lu Ten grinned as Zuko made eye contact and waved, beckoning him nearer.
Bemused but not displeased, Zuko walked his bike over. "Hey Lu Ten, what are you doing here?" Zuko greeted.
"Hey Zuko," Lu Ten replied without losing his grin, "my last class of the day got cancelled so... Fancy dinner with your favourite cousin tonight?"
Zuko smiled at the offer but, "I shouldn't. I have to cook for Dad and Azula tonight," he said as if he didn't have to every night.
"I'm sure they can fend for themselves for one evening," Lu Ten dismissed with an eye roll and a wave of his hand, "and my dad has made a huge carrot cake that we just can't eat by ourselves."
Zuko's mouth started to water at the mention of his favourite dessert. But dessert wouldn't save him from his teachers if he didn't get his homework done. He looked down and rocked his bike backwards and forwards a bit to cover his awkwardness. "That sounds amazing, but I have a lot of homework to catch up on and my dad will be annoyed if I just don't turn up at home."
"Okay, firstly," Lu Ten began with a weird air of determination, "my dad is your dad's older brother so technically my dad outranks yours. Therefore you have to come and eat with us, my dad will sort it. Secondly, I'm sure I can help you with your homework if you need it, and thirdly, this is happening. So you're going to let me put your bike on the rack and you're going to let me drive us to my house where you can do your homework until dinner is ready. Then you're going to eat with us and have a huge slice of carrot cake and then probably have one of my dad's teas for indigestion or something because he will just keep feeding you until you're about to burst. Okay?"
Feeling slightly stunned and like he had little option but to agree, Zuko did.
Lu Ten's grin got even bigger, "That's the spirit!" He exclaimed excitedly before swiftly and firmly, but not unkindly, taking Zuko's bike and beginning to strap it onto the bike rack while insisting that he needed no help and that it would probably be best if Zuko just got in the car.
Zuko took a seat in his cousin's car, it was big and four‐wheel drive and quite fancy. Even though it wasn't as sleek as the fancy cars his dad drove or kept as pristine. Zuko kind of liked the fact that his cousin kept a pot of chewing gum in one of the cup holders and that every other crevice was crammed with CDs because Lu Ten intellectually objected to most of the music that came on the radio these days.
Lu Ten had also instructed him to pick a CD, citing when Zuko hesitated, that he was bored of the one in there at the moment and that Zuko physically couldn't choose wrong because Lu Ten had bought all those CDs because he liked them.
Zuko opened the glove box and scrambled to catch the CDs that immediately fell out of it. He inspected the CDs in his hands - an overwhelming majority of them firenation blaze music which had first been popular about twenty years before either of them had been born.
But he changed the CD to a greatest hits album by one of the most popular bands of that era, (it was a safe, crowd-pleasing choice) he then began hunting for the appropriate case for the CD he had just taken out of the slot and was just clicking it safely into place when Lu Ten opened the door and slid into the driver's seat.
"So I told my dad that you agreed to come over and he said that's fine and he's gonna sort everything with Uncle Ozai, so no worries," Lu Ten smiled at him as if he really had just erased all of Zuko's worries with one simple phone call.
"Cool," Zuko managed while his cousin was distracted by turning on the engine.
Lu Ten hummed quietly along to the music as he drove the ten minutes back to Iroh's house.
Iroh's house was nice, not as lavish as the house Zuko currently lived in, but Zuko preferred the comforting, homely atmosphere to the cold, stark cleanliness Ozai preferred in his own home.
"Zuko!" Iroh greeted with what Zuko thought was much unwarranted enthusiasm, as he walked straight past Lu Ten to pull Zuko into a hug.
"Hello uncle," Zuko replied into Iroh's shoulder.
"Oh I see how it is," Lu Ten drawled as he observed his two favourite family members with amusement, "You love your nephew more than you love your own son."
Iroh rolled his eyes and took a step back from Zuko but kept his hands on Zuko's shoulders to keep him still as Iroh inspected him. "I apologise if my son bullied you into coming here tonight. He is getting more and more belligerent as he grows."
"Oh he didn't really. I just have a lot of homework to catch up on so-" Zuko began.
But Lu Ten interrupted him while stepping in and wrapping an arm around Zuko's shoulders, "So I told him I would be able to help."
Iroh chuckled, "Well in that case son, you are forgiven." His eyes darted between the pair standing in front of him, Zuko was catching up to Lu Ten in height now, which would have greatly pleased the younger boy, had he really thought about it. "Look at you both, the Nikko family genes run strong in the pair of you. You look more like brothers than cousins."
Zuko blushed while Lu Ten let out a huge belly laugh. "You're just saying that because you prefer Zuko to me," he teased.
"Be careful, Lu Ten, or I might just keep Zuko and send you back to your cousin's house instead. At least he doesn't tease a poor old man like you do," Iroh shot back as he ushered them into the living room and bustled back into the kitchen.
Zuko promptly knelt down at the coffee table and stacked his books on the heavily lacquered surface along with his pens and flipped open his first book.
"Wow, you weren't kidding, huh?" Lu Ten commented as he warily eyed the wall of books separating him from his cousin.
"Nope," Zuko grunted in reply, not taking his eyes off the page in front of him.
Lu Ten hesitated a moment before sidling around to Zuko's side of the coffee table and then settling on the couch behind them. He peered over Zuko's shoulder, "What are you doing?"
"Homework." The addendum dumbass was heavily implied.
"What subject?"
"Biology."
Lu Ten mulled that knowledge over in the quiet of the room broken only by the scratching of Zuko's pen and the occasional rustle of paper. "Need any help?" He offered.
"Not right now, this one's easy."
Silence conquered the room again and Lu Ten found himself restless in its thrall. "I think I'm going to help Dad in the kitchen."
Zuko finally looked up from his work, hints of guilt pulling at his features. "You can put the telly on, I don't mind."
"Maybe later," Lu Ten assured with a smile, before leaving his industrious cousin to do his homework.
Throughout the evening Lu Ten observed his cousin steadily complete his homework with a focus that Lu Ten had never seen before on anyone, and that he was beginning to find quite concerning. Zuko had barely looked up to thank him when he had slipped a cup of tea next to the boy's elbow, and there hadn't been a single waver in his gaze when Lu Ten had eventually put the telly on. Even when Iroh, obviously sharing his son's concerns, had decided that dinner would be a casual one that evening and had brought everyone's dinner into the living room, Zuko remained stubborn in his concentration.
"Hey Zuko, you okay there?" Lu Ten asked as Zuko let out a small growl under his breath, his forefinger and thumb with a death grip on the bridge of his nose.
"I'm fine."
"Perhaps you're in need of a break, nephew. Hmm?"
"I can't."
Lu Ten leaned forward, "Zuko, you've been studying for hours. You literally haven't stopped since you got here. I'm sure you've done enough for tonight."
"No, I have to keep studying."
Lu Ten looked at his father. Sure, Zuko was stubborn and determined and had a laser focus that could be used to cut diamonds, but he was only ever this high-strung and unreasonable when Ozai was involved.
"May I ask what has brought on this fervour to study at every spare moment?" Iroh asked.
"I need to get my grades up," Zuko replied impatiently.
Lu Ten was puzzled. "You have mainly As and Bs, what's wrong with that?"
"I only have As in literature, sociology and sometimes biology."
"But that's good," Lu Ten insisted.
"I need to be better," Zuko huffed and scowled contemptuously down at his homework, looking and sounding for a moment terrifyingly similar to Ozai.
Lu Ten scoffed. This was definitely Ozai's handiwork. In fact, he was about to make known exactly what he thought of Ozai's rhetoric and with absolutely no mincing of words when Iroh cut across him sharply.
"Lu Ten." Iroh waited until he had his son's full attention before continuing in a slightly softer tone but not soft enough to give Lu Ten any illusions of argument, "Why don't go and make everyone a nice cup of calming jasmine tea? And bring everyone a slice of the carrot cake too."
"Fine."
"And make sure you brew it carefully," Iroh added pointedly as he watched his son amble towards the kitchen.
Zuko, who was practically an emotional Geiger counter, yet had almost no inferential ability regarding the reasons for or the intentions behind the emotions he picked up on so well, watched the interaction between Iroh and Lu Ten warily. As soon as Lu Ten disappeared, Iroh turned to him solemnly and said, "And what has made you feel this way?"
Zuko turned his scowl away from his uncle. It was humiliating to admit that his father didn't think it was worth sending him to uni. Zuko hadn't even been expecting to go to a keystone uni like in Ba Sing Se or Caldera, he knew he would never be able to get in, even with all his father's money (and even if, somehow, he did, he would never be able to keep up,) but he had hoped to at least be able to go somewhere. But even that now seemed like it was slowly fading from reach.
"Are you nervous about being able to get into uni?"
Zuko bit his lip as his uncle managed to get so close to the root of the problem immediately.
Iroh hummed, taking Zuko's small gesture as confirmation. "I hope you know, nephew, that a B is certainly a respectable grade and that there are a lot of reputable unis that accept B-grade students, especially if those students have a couple of As as well."
"You might think unis who accept anything less than straight-A students are respectable but I bet Dad doesn't," Zuko replied darkly.
"Your father?"
"Forget it!" Zuko exploded, "This is all so stupid! I'm stupid!" He hurriedly stuffed everything in his bag, "I was stupid to even think... " he muttered as he zipped up his bag and swung it onto his shoulder as he stood up.
"Zuko!" Cried Iroh as he followed his nephew as he stormed towards the door.
"Not even a fucking chance..." Zuko continued to snarl to himself.
"Zuko!" Iroh cried again as he grabbed the boy's shoulder. "You are not stupid!"
But Zuko had jumped reflexively at the touch and ducked out of Iroh's grip only to stumble on Lu Ten's shoes and fall into the wall, banging his head on his way down. He hissed and put his hand to the back of his head.
"Zuko, look at me," Iroh said, wincing at his joints as he crouched down to Zuko's level. He waited until Zuko reluctantly met his eyes before he continued, "Why does your dad need to approve of what uni you go to?"
"Because my dad won't send me otherwise. He doesn't even have a tuition fund for me unless I prove myself." Iroh opened his mouth but Zuko cut him off, "Azula has one already, just not me."
"I don't know what your father is thinking," Iroh said with disapproval emanating from every syllable and every inch of his body, "but I will not allow you to waste your potential by not going to uni."
"That's why I need better grades. Dad said that if I get straight As he'll let me go," Zuko insisted. He sighed and then muttered, "As if I could turn into a straight-A student overnight."
"I'll figure something out," replied Iroh, mentally calculating the amount in his savings account and how much could be saved in a little under a year.
Neither felt it needed to be said that Ozai, proud as he was, would never stoop so low as to apply for student loans.
"No." Gasped Zuko, cottoning on to Iroh's meaning. "I can't let you do that."
"Nephew..."
"I'll get my grades up."
Iroh sighed, "Do you even know how much tuition usually is? Are there any other conditions your attendance at university hangs on?"
"No." Replied Zuko sullenly and crossed his arms, "Just improve my grades… without letting my firebending or my work performance deteriorate."
Iroh frowned and sighed. He held out a hand and gently began to coax Zuko to stand, yet before he was even halfway up Iroh's back failed him and had to rely on Zuko to help him up the rest of the way. "There are other ways to attend uni, Zuko." Iroh said as he looked intently into his nephew's eyes, "Your father's requirements are… exorbitant at best, and I feel the reward he offers is not worth the sacrifice he is demanding from you."
"I can't let you pay, uncle, you have enough to worry about." Zuko said as he widened his stance in order to get Iroh back onto his feet, "Are you still seeing the chiropractor?" he added pointedly.
"Yes, I am. Lu Ten makes sure I go every week, but the doctor has been on holiday recently."
Zuko started to protest but Iroh raised a hand to quell the indignant concern before it could be voiced. "Rest assured, I shall have no choice but to go back next week."
"Fine," Zuko huffed reluctantly, and if the previous conversation hadn't made Iroh so worried, it would have made him smile.
"But it's the responsibility of the old to worry over the young, not the other way around." Iroh replied gently, "Now why don't you come back to the living room for a bit? It would be nice if you would give your old uncle the pleasure of your company for a little longer. I'm sure someone will be able to drive you home later."
Katara
Katara had forgotten about her new Kyoshi-style fighting lessons when she had agreed to meet with Zuko on Saturday. But when she told him on Friday why she would have to be late, he pointed out that the gym did have showering facilities. But only if she wanted to save herself from having to go all the way home just to shower before going back across town to his house.
Yet other than the mild embarrassment of not having been properly organised, Katara had thought the whole ordeal fairly mundane. This was purely a professional study date, and as such, should be treated with a cool calm manner, because there was nothing, and not even the potential for anything, to get worked up over.
That was until she said goodbye to her friends after their Kyoshi fans class and indicated that she would not be leaving the building with them.
"Hey Katara, where are you going?" Sokka asked.
"I'm going to shower," Katara replied, before continuing as a big, metaphorical question mark plastered itself plainly across Sokka's face, "I told you I was going to meet up with my literature partner to work on our project this afternoon. Why do you find it so hard to listen to me?"
"Oh," Aang commented as understanding dawned. "Who's your partner?"
"Zuko."
"Wait a minute..." Aang said thoughtfully while stroking his chin, "Isn't he the guy that everyone avoids?"
"Yup," Sokka confirmed, "he also beat the crap out of Jet last year."
Aang, his entire demeanour changing in the blink of an eye, immediately turned towards Katara, now positively overflowing with concern. "Are you going to be okay working alone with him? He sounds kinda dangerous."
"No, no," Sokka said, not really attempting to quell Aang's concern, but more illustrating his opinion of the victim, "To be fair, Jet was a major jerk."
"That still doesn't seem okay..." Aang replied dubiously.
"He doesn't really seem that bad," Suki added.
"You know him?" Aang asked, turning towards her.
"Yeah, how do you know him?" Sokka asked curiously.
Suki looked at them like they were all missing something obvious. "His dad owns this entire gym? He works here? You got him in trouble with his dad the first time you came to my lesson? Of course, we've crossed paths." Suki finished turning towards Sokka.
"That was Zuko?" Aang asked incredulously.
Suki nodded.
"Oh. I think I was expecting someone bigger and meaner." Aang mused, Sokka nodding in agreement.
Katara rolled her eyes. "Right. Well, I'm going to go find the showers," she said, instead of expressing her exasperation with her brother, and turned down the corridor.
"Or snobbier," Sokka added, completely ignoring Katara's attempt to end the conversation and following her. "Are you going to his house?"
"Yep."
"Alone? Katara, how well do you know him?" Sokka piped up.
"Not super well," she admitted, "but he was the literature tutor that Mr Pakku got for me, and now he's my partner and I've got to at least try to work with him."
"The one that got angry and stormed off?" Asked Aang, "Maybe Sokka's right, maybe you shouldn't be alone with a guy who's got a temper and a history of violence."
Katara stopped and whirled around once she reached the entrance to the showers, "Oh my spirits! Guys just stop! I really don't think Zuko is going to murder me over a literature project!"
"How do you know? His dad probably donated a bazillion yen to keep him in school after he beat up Jet. He's probably a stupid, murderous psychopath who thinks he can get away with anything because he's rich!" Sokka replied, matching Katara in both volume and intensity.
"Seriously? It's not like I'm meeting up with him because we're friends or anything!" Katara spat out of frustration and completely missed the way her friends' faces dropped as their eyes darted over her shoulder. "We just got stuck on this stupid project together! It's not like I actually want to spend time with him!"
"The showers are clean," Zuko rasped, suddenly appearing behind Katara. He was looking very not-rich and very un-psychopathic but also very much like he had heard every word they had been saying as he stood there in big rubber gloves, holding some heavy-duty cleaning supplies and with damp patches on his knees, all while sporting a look that could probably be weaponised with very little effort.
"Zuko!" Katara squeaked in mortification.
"I'll wait in the lobby," he sneered at them before storming past and towards a cleaning trolly that was an embarrassingly vivid shade of yellow and which none of them had noticed before now.
"Well done Sokka!" Katara cried sarcastically, rounding on her brother, "You just had to go and open your big mouth, didn't you?"
"He shouldn't have been eavesdropping!" Sokka shrieked defensively.
Suki finally stepped in as Katara was starting to see red. "Come on babe, you can't get mad at a guy for doing his job," she said while snaking her hand around his arm, "Why don't we go to yours so Katara can do her literature project, hmm?"
Katara watched as Suki weaved some special kind of girlfriend magic on Sokka and led him towards the exit.
"Just be careful Katara," Aang implored softly before following the other two.
Katara rolled her eyes and entered the ladies' showers. She was internally cursing her brother the entire time it took to shower, dress and walk to meet Zuko.
When she walked into the lobby, Zuko was sitting next to the same guy that had glared daggers at them for getting Zuko into trouble two weeks ago.
Zuko sat slumped over the desk with his chin on his hands and his hands on his backpack. The other guy was working quietly but gave her an unfriendly stare as she approached.
Zuko stood with a curt "let's go," and rounded the desk before Katara could reply. He didn't even look back at her as he exited the gym and Katara found herself hurrying to catch up.
She rushed through the door and had to stop and look around as Zuko wasn't anywhere to be seen. She threw a hand up in the air in frustration, he hadn't even given her a chance to explain herself and now he had just disappeared!
What an immature jerk!
The gym was all the way across town from her house and now she was stranded without a car and a big heavy bag. (She had forgotten to bring her phone with her, plus, even if she hadn't, she was afraid of what she would be interrupting.)
But she suddenly heard a clinking and rattling to her left and turned to see Zuko wheeling a bike out of the shelter.
Oh.
She stared as he walked towards her and struggled to find anything to say even after he walked past her with a frustrated, "Come on," tossed over his shoulder.
Katara wanted to ask why he didn't have with him a car befitting of the son of the richest man in town, but with the tension settling over them like setting concrete, Katara thought better of it.
She kept Zuko's bike between them and watched the stiff set of his shoulders warily as he led her at a swift pace towards the wealthy side of town. Soon enough Katara was distracted by the grand houses they were walking past, although they probably didn't seem that grand to Zuko.
Yet it still wasn't until Zuko turned onto the drive of the largest house by far on the street, that Katara spoke. "Wow," she gaped in awe as she took in the grandeur before her, "this is your house?"
"Yeah," Zuko said flatly and proceeded to put his bike away in the garage.
Katara was almost going wild with curiosity by the time Zuko opened the front door and led her inside. They went down the hallway, past a very posh-looking parlour, and a grand dining hall, (the word room just didn't seem to encapsulate the scale of what Katara was witnessing), which shared either side of a vast, ornate fireplace. On the other side of the hallway were a more casual, comfy-looking living room and one closed door before they entered a large kitchen.
"What's in there?" She asked as they walked by one of the few closed doors in the hallway.
"The stairs," Zuko replied shortly.
"And there?" asked Katara as she indicated another door.
"Toilet."
"And that one?"
"Basement," Zuko grunted as he pushed into the kitchen. At Katara's still curious expression, he added, "There's a wine cellar and a home dojo down there."
The kitchen, just like the rest of the house, was practically cavernous in its size and was decorated with a mostly black, white and grey theme with accents of red and gold. There were a plethora of fancy gadgets spaced out along the counter and everything else seemed to be as state-of-the-art as possible, and everything gleamed with cleanliness.
Zuko dumped his bag on the island and turned to face her. "Do you want a drink or something?" He offered begrudgingly while refusing to meet her eyes.
"Water, please."
He nodded and fetched her a drink, setting the glass on the island between them and sliding it towards her. "I'm gonna go change out of my uniform real quick," he mumbled before grabbing his bag and retreating from the room.
Katara gazed around the room once again as she sipped her water, it was just as impressive as her first look had been, approximately five seconds earlier.
Katara took a seat at the island and piled her books neatly in front of her on the dark granite surface. She looked around again, partly because she didn't know what else to do while she waited, and partly because she felt like the room could stand to be marvelled at some more. The sheer luxury that seemed to ooze from every square inch of the polished surfaces was so opposite to her own small, cluttered house that she was relieved that Zuko hadn't seen it.
Before Katara could spiral more into wealth-related feelings of inadequacy, Zuko returned wearing his more typical jeans and a hoodie so large it could comfortably clothe a camelephant ensemble, and looking as out-of-place against the posh backdrop as she felt. He took a seat next to her and dropped his own books down on the countertop with a slap.
"This is a really nice house you have," Katara said out of politeness and partly because her earlier outburst was still ringing through her mind.
"Let's just get on with it. I wouldn't want you to be here any longer than you have to be," Zuko replied bitterly.
Katara, whose pride had been bruised a few too many times in Zuko's presence, decided that if he was going to be like that, then she might as well let him get on with it. "Fine," she said out loud, "what research have you done?"
Zuko was surly as he answered but otherwise remained almost businesslike as they worked. And although Katara had a certain haughtiness about her, she managed to keep it to a minimum and they managed to get a decent amount of work done. Well, for almost an hour anyway.
"Holy shit, Zuzu. You've actually found someone who can tolerate your presence?" Azula drawled as she sauntered into the kitchen, and disrupted the fragile atmosphere which had settled into cool efficiency. "Oh, it's only for homework though. But still, that's an achievement for you."
"Fuck off Azula," Zuko shot back.
"Is that any way to talk to your baby sister?" Azula asked, putting a hand over her chest mockingly, "It's not my fault you're a loser."
"What are you doing here?" Zuko ground out between his teeth.
"I live here," she deadpanned, "besides I wanted to see how a freak like you actually got a girl to come over. My first thought was kidnapping, but you don't have the balls for that. So what was it? Bribery? Hypnosis? Blackmail? Did you promise her sexual favours?"
"Shut up!" Zuko roared, the screech of the chair echoed loudly around the room and wisps of flames curled around his fists and eddied into nothingness as he jumped to his feet.
Katara flinched away out of surprise and shuffled her chair over some more to distance herself from the loaded firebender.
"And what do you think you're going to do about it?" Azula asked with a smirk.
Zuko stepped around the corner of the island, "Go away, or I'll make you."
"As if you even could! Besides, I've got a tournament in a few weeks," Azula gloated, "if you so much as singe me, even a little, dad's gonna burn you to a crisp."
"Seriously Azula, fuck off," Zuko warned, stepping closer to her.
"No, I don't think I will," Azula taunted.
Zuko lunged to grab her arm but Azula dodged out of the way, Zuko almost instantaneously changed direction and instead made to grab her trailing wrist but she was still too fast. After a quick but intense scuffle, Azula suddenly threw Zuko over her shoulder and didn't even give her brother a second to recover from his harsh landing on the tiled floor before she was crouching over him, her knee pressing firmly into his solar plexus and leaning the rest of her weight onto his wrist.
Zuko braced his free arm against her knee and glared up at her with renewed intensity. "What do you want?" He growled with renewed vehemence.
"I want some lunch," she said casually. As if slamming her brother down on hard kitchen tiles was an everyday occurrence. Although Zuko's reaction didn't seem to signify anything was particularly out of the ordinary either...
"Then why don't you get yourself some?" Zuko hissed.
"But Zuzu, that's what we have you for." Azula sneered condescendingly and patted his cheek. "Now make me some lunch."
Zuko took the opportunity to disrupt Azula's balance and roughly shove her off him. She snickered as Zuko rolled to his feet and brusquely dusted himself off.
"I think you should go now," Zuko mumbled quietly to Katara but with a steeliness in his voice that brooked no argument.
But arguing was the furthest thing from Katara's mind as she nodded and swept her books into her bag as she hopped down from the seat she had been perched on. Zuko was just as tense as he had been when they had left the gym as he showed her to the door. He placed a hand on the doorknob and stared moodily into space for a moment, before opening the door for her. They both stared as the door swung inward to reveal a deluge, noisily fencing them off from outside.
"Oh," Zuko said as Katara gaped at the intensity of the downpour and wondered how she hadn't heard it start up. "You live on the other side of town, right?" He asked flatly.
"Uh, yeah," Katara mumbled absently as she wondered how on earth she would be able to keep herself and her schoolwork dry with her waterbending for the entire walk home when she was already tired.
"Right," Zuko sighed tiredly. He then turned to yell back into the house as he plucked a set of keys from a glass bowl set atop a white sideboard behind him, "I'm taking the car!"
"No, you're not!" Azula yelled back from the kitchen, "I'm hungry!"
"I'll be half a fucking hour Azula! I'll make you some lunch when I get back!"
Zuko didn't wait for an answer before ushering Katara out the door and into a bright red sports car. Katara was sure it was probably some fancy make and that Sokka would be bemoaning the fact that: firstly, Katara didn't appreciate the experience anywhere near as much as Sokka would think the situation warranted; and secondly, that he wasn't the one to get a ride in it.
"Where do you live?" Zuko asked quietly as they reached the end of his road.
Katara told him which neighbourhood she lived in and he gave a short nod in response.
The rest of the ride was silent, save for Zuko snarling, "fucking indicate then," with malice aforethought at one seemingly negligent driver and Katara pointing out her house, but at least it was over quickly. What would have taken an hour to walk only took just under fifteen minutes to drive, even with Zuko driving cautiously through the rain.
He came to a stop at the end of the short driveway and they both gazed out at the unrelenting rain for a moment.
But Katara was confident she could manage to keep herself dry for the short distance from the car to her door. So she mumbled a quick thanks and, gripping her bag tightly to her chest, pushed open the door. She barely paused to push it closed again behind her before she was hurrying towards the shelter of her porch, one hand held aloft to create a water barrier.
She fumbled for her key in the bottom of her bag, haste and cold making her fingers clumsy until she finally managed to find it. She was starting to shiver and it took her a few tries to get the key into the lock, but she let herself in and as she turned to close the door, she caught a glimpse of that red sports car only now driving off.
There was a thundering of heavy feet stampeding down the stairs behind her, and Katara turned to see her brother, wide-eyed and gripping both the bannister and the opposite wall seemingly for support as he said, "Was that Zuko's car?"
"I guess," Katara replied, "I think he shares it with his sister though."
"That's still really cool." Sokka gushed as Suki slowly descended the stairs behind him, a wry but indulgent smirk on her face.
"It's ok baby," she said, patting his arm as she came to a stop in the step behind him, "maybe one day if you start saving you'll be able to get one too."
"Do you even know how expensive those kinds of cars are?" Sokka asked, rounding on his girlfriend.
"No," she admitted easily and took advantage of the fact that Sokka was no longer completely blocking the bottom of the stairs and slipped around him. "So what was his house like?" She asked Katara curiously.
"It was really fancy. And it seemed huge even though I only saw the ground floor, we worked on our report in his kitchen." Katara replied, linking arms with Suki and walking with her to Katara's own much smaller, much less impressive kitchen.
"Did it have loads of gadgets and LED lights?" Sokka asked with only marginally less enthusiasm than he had asked about the car.
Katara rolled her eyes, "Yes Sokka, that kitchen was full of LED lights."
"Did they change colour?" Sokka asked as Katara let go of Suki's arm to lean against the counter.
"No, not that I could see anyway."
Suki's gaze darted between the siblings as she made a face which suggested she was worried about both their mental states. "Why do you want to know if there were LED lights?"
"Sokka decided when he was about twelve that something was only really posh if it had LED lights on it. I don't know where he got the idea from," Katara explained wearily.
"Well, he is easily amused, I think he just likes the flashing lights and bright colours," Suki mused.
"But it's true!" Sokka protested, "Everything fancy nowadays comes with LED lights."
"Sokka, get your head out of the clouds and bring your laundry down for washing," Gran-gran chastised gently as she walked into the kitchen, "and don't forget to separate it all, I won't be having all the whites turning grey because you missed a sock."
"Fine. But I still stand by what I said!" Sokka added pointing emphatically between Katara and Suki as he edged towards the door.
Gran-gran shook her head indulgently as Sokka sidled out of view and reached for the chopping board, laying it out on the counter before turning to the fridge.
"Now then, Katara." She began ominously as she paused in her chopping of vegetables and turned to Katara with a stern expression on her face, "This lad whose house you went to, is he rich?"
Katara groaned dramatically. "I got paired with him on a project!" She protested, "It's not what you're thinking!"
"Did he invite you up to his room?"
"No! We worked on our project in the kitchen! With the door open!" Katara exclaimed with a newfound complexion similar to that of beetroot.
"At least he is respectful," Gran-gran muttered primly, "much better than that other boy."
"Gran-gran please do not compare Jet with Zuko," Katara said with a glare at Suki for her traitorous sniggering.
"How are his grades?"
"I don't know."
"Well he was good enough at literature for Mr Pakku to pick him as a tutor," Suki piped up, only deepening her betrayal.
"Now he is sounding much better than Jet. I assume from his name he's firenation?"
"Yes Gran-gran," Katara sighed wearily.
"And a firebender actually," Suki added with a shrug at Katara's second glare.
"Is he handsome?"
At this, Katara faltered. She hadn't really looked, which was weird because if she knew what he looked like, surely she knew if he was handsome or not. But, she supposed there were too many reasons not to think of him that way - too many glaring, obvious reasons not to even begin to think of Zuko in terms of his attractiveness.
"Oh he's hot," Suki replied with an assuredness that caught Katara off guard.
"What?" She asked, expression stricken. "What about Sokka?"
"I said he was hot, not that he was my type," Suki shrugged, "just because I'm with Sokka doesn't mean I've gone blind. And just because I can acknowledge, in a mature way, the hotness of someone else doesn't mean I like Sokka any less." She finished with an air of mock superiority and a nod for good measure.
Katara blinked. "But how can you find him hot if he's not your type?"
"Because my type is cute-hot."
"Cute-hot?" Katara asked, wrinkling her nose, "That feels like you've put a lot of thought into it. Is this what you do in your spare time? Rate the hotness of boys?"
Suki shrugged, "Me and the girls from my classes have discussed it. We have, on occasion, sort of debated the attractiveness of some of the boys in our school. Like, for example, Aang is cute but not hot, Zuko is hot but not really that cute, Sokka is a mixture of both hot and cute, and Haru isn't really hot or cute but he's not really ugly either."
"Okay, I feel like I've stepped into this conversation at exactly the wrong moment," asserted Sokka from the doorway, "what on earth are you talking about?"
"I was just telling Katara how, even though other guys may be hot, you are the best person for me because you're just the right combination of cute and hot," Suki replied seamlessly as she stepped up to Sokka and wrapped her arms around his middle.
Sokka eyed Suki suspiciously for a moment before he seemed to shake off his doubts and said, "Come on, let's get out of the kitchen before Gran-gran decides she needs help with the cooking."
Katara rolled her eyes but allowed herself to be shooed out of the kitchen as well, with Gran-gran saying that it was her turn to cook and that Katara would get her chance the next day.