Like Seal Jerky with Fire Flakes
Summary: Their kids were growing up, getting into more and more misadventures each day. Katara would get sentimental, if only the little troublemakers didn't burn their house down. [Modern AU with bending]
Written for Zutara Week 2023, Day 3: Union.
A/N: I had this idea of putting Momtara and Dadko in a situation where their kids end up acting like Sokka and Azula (in a toned down, less crazy, what-if-she-was-raised-in-a-good-environment kinda way). So, here we are!
Also, the title is an allusion to Titus Andromedon's quote in Kimmy Schmidt, but has no bearing on the story whatsoever lol
BOOM.
"That's the third one today," commented Zuko, almost casually, as he sipped his tea in the breakfast nook.
WHAM.
"Fourth one," added Katara, peering into their garden through the back door. "At least Kya's entertained."
"Yeah. Hard to keep her attention these days." Zuko paused and frowned over the rim of his cup. "Or maybe she just doesn't want to do homework. It's hard to tell."
"Well, she's at that age," shrugged Katara, grinning at her husband. "La knows I couldn't sit still around water when I was eleven. Forget books— I'd just jump into the nearest fountain and bend the day away."
WHOOSH.
"And that's the fifth one," Katara sighed. She raised her brow at Zuko. "Wanna take this, or should I?"
"I'll do it," said Zuko, standing up. "But you're explaining the ground rules when he babysits on Saturday."
"Deal," agreed Katara, smirking. "It's not like it's his first time babysitting."
Her husband looked at her as though she declared that she wanted to build a cabbage-selling empire.
"You do remember when we almost got him tested because he couldn't follow a single thing anyone told him, right?"
"Oh, don't remind me," Katara groaned. She perched her hand on her hip and waved her mug of tea at the backdoor. "Fine, fine. Just go and get them before the neighbors complain again."
"Yes, ma'am." Zuko kissed her cheek as he made his way out to the garden. Katara smiled as the kids barreled right past him and completely ignored his calls to wipe their feet before heading into the house.
Roku swung the door open and swept past Katara to go upstairs, shouting something nearly unintelligible about meeting up with his cousins at school, while Kya opened the fridge and bent orange juice straight to her mouth.
Wham.
"Oh, for spirit's sake, Roku!" shouted Katara from the bottom of the stairs. "Did you blast your bedroom door open again?"
There were a few seconds of guilty silence before a slightly defensive, cracking voice replied, "No!"
Katara slapped a hand to her forehead.
"You're helping your father fix that when you get home from school, you hear me?" she called after her son as he sped down the stairs, a blur of brown and red.
"M'kay!" Roku answered, waving as he made his merry way down the driveway. Kya bounced into the hallway, breezily hugging Katara, who was still standing by the open front door and gazing in disbelief after Roku.
"Mom, can I have extra lunch money?"
Katara looked down at the syrupy sweet smile of her daughter and rolled her eyes.
"No, honey, because you already asked for your entire week's allowance, remember?" she said, planting a kiss on top of Kya's curly black hair. "Now, get a move on, you're gonna be late."
"No fair," pouted Kya. "Roku gets extra money from babysitting me even if I'm too old to be babysat."
"You are not too old while you're still staying in this house, little miss. What do you even need the money for, anyway?" asked Katara. "You haven't been skipping class again to go to the mall, have you? What do you even do there, anyway?"
"I'm not doing that, Mom!" exclaimed Kya, smiling brightly— too brightly. Katara raised an eyebrow at her and she rolled her eyes and threw her hands up. "I swear! I'm not doing anything! Bye, love you!"
Katara crossed her arms over her chest and sighed tiredly as Kya took off. She felt Zuko come up behind her and she leaned back against him.
"Kya's up to something, huh?" He asked, wrapping his arms around her middle. Katara snorted.
"When is she not?" She huffed. "Oh, and Roku blasted his door open again."
Zuko groaned.
"We'll fix it as soon as I get off work," he promised. "I swear, patching up that door has become a weekly routine. Why haven't we replaced it with one of those metal, fireproof ones?"
"Because, and I say this with all the love in the world, your son is not the sharpest tool in the shed," laughed Katara exasperatedly. "He might end up locking himself in there and he'd suffocate from setting fire to his bed."
"That's a dark image so early in the morning," commented Zuko.
"Well, it's true," shrugged Katara. She turned around and placed her hands on his shoulders, her eyes softening with concern. "Hey, you'll be okay cooking dinner later, right? I have an extra shift at the hospital."
"Yeah, I remember. And we'll be fine, don't worry," Zuko smiled slightly. "I still have the number for Poison Control."
"Good. And remember, Sokka and Suki's number is on speed dial," she reminded him, before giving him a small peck and heading upstairs.
"Aw, c'mon, Dad!" whined Roku, very nearly hitting his own thumb with the hammer, "I'm not a little kid anymore! All my other friends hold parties at their houses all the time!"
"Still no," replied Zuko, testing the newly-reinstalled door knob's strength. "Roku, you can't even last a week without burning something accidentally. Do you really believe you can host a party without wrecking the house, huh?"
Roku pouted at him and tapped at a protruding nail with his hammer in sullen silence. Zuko let his fifteen-year-old stew for a bit— Katara had often told him not to spoil his firstborn, but maybe they could reach a compromise. That was still good parenting, right?
"Alright, let's make a deal," Zuko finally said with a sigh, and Roku turned his bright blue eyes on him, a huge grin on his face. "You prove to me and your mother that you can babysit a whole night without burning anything and getting roped into your sister's schemes, and I will maybe start thinking about letting you have a party— with no more than ten people."
"Deal!" crowed Roku, throwing his hammer into the air in his excitement.
"Roku!" scolded Zuko, and his son grinned sheepishly and hurried down the hall to grab the tool.
"Sorry!"
"You promised him he could have a party if he doesn't burn the house down?" hissed Katara, clutching her hairbrush tightly in her fist and actively stopping herself from bending perfume into her husband's eyes. "Are you crazy?!"
"He's old enough!" defended Zuko, raising his hands appeasingly. "Besides, I didn't tell him he could have a party— I said I would maybe think about letting him throw one! I even set a guest limit and all!"
"Since when do teenagers follow their parents' rules?" retorted Katara, placing her hands on her hips. "We've filed so many insurance claims for accidental bending disasters, they're gonna charge us with fraud!"
"Well, I like to think we've raised our kids well enough," counters Zuko, crossing his arms over his chest. Katara scowled at him before sitting down at the vanity with a huff and meeting his eyes in the mirror.
"Well, you started this, mister," she told him as she resumed brushing her hair. "You better hope he holds up his end of the deal this Saturday, otherwise we're toast. Literally."
"Your aunt and uncle's number is on speed dial, so are the numbers for the ER, the Fire Department, and Poison Control. There's frozen pizza in the fridge, emergency money is in our drawer, but don't take it unless there's a real emergency, like taking your sister to the hospital or something. Call us immediately if something like that happens," listed Katara, pacing the length of the living room while her kids sat on the couch— Roku nodding along, trying to project that he was on his best babysitting behavior, and Kya sitting primly with her legs crossed, drumming her fingers on the couch's arm boredly.
"We'll be gone for two hours max," added Zuko, but Katara shot him a look and he corrected himself, "Okay, maybe three or four, but Toph better not drink all the firewhiskey like last time."
"Why can't Lin and Suyin hang out here if you're all out doing grown-up stuff anyway?" asked Kya.
"Because your Aunt Toph has sent them to another weekend boot camp. Again," Katara pursed her lips and rolled her eyes. "For some reason."
"Lin says it sucks ass," added Roku helpfully. Kya sniggered.
"Language," warned Katara, and Roku smiled sheepishly and scratched the back of his head.
"Sorry, Mom."
"One last rule," said Katara pointedly, "Do not burn down the house."
"That should be obvious," commented Zuko, shrugging on his coat. Katara whirled on him with raised eyebrows and he coughed and added sternly, "If you two burn the house down, you'll be grounded for a week."
"Sure, Dad," laughed Kya. "You can 'take away' our phones, too."
"We're serious, young lady. Wipe that smirk off your face," chided Katara, hand on her hip. "You better not cause any trouble for your brother, okay? And Roku, we're trusting you to keep your sister and our house safe, so no more bending experiments, alright?"
"I promise!" Roku mimicked crossing his heart before standing up and ushering his parents out the door. "Have fun with Aunt Toph and Uncle Aang!"
"Call us if anything happens!" Katara reminded them. "Do not open the door for anyone—"
"Not even when they're selling knives and flamethrowers?" quipped Kya, but her brother quickly shoved her aside.
"I've got it, Mom, don't worry!" Roku called back, waving at their parents until the car disappeared from the driveway. He exhaled and exchanged a grin with his sister. "So, what're we gonna do tonight?"
Kya raised an eyebrow at him and flounced back into the house.
"Well, I'm working on a side venture on my computer," she said loftily. "I don't really care what you do."
"What side venture?" asked Roku, eyes lighting up. "I want in."
Kya turned back to him and sized him up, her gold eyes narrowed, her lips pursed. Finally, she sighed and rolled her eyes.
"I'm making fake IDs for me and the high school kids who wanna enter that pro-bending tournament down at The Crystal Catacombs," she said, crossing her arms and eyeing her brother suspiciously. "And you are not gonna tell on me. I know where you sleep, big bro."
"Hey, I'm chill! If Aunt Toph can win that tournament at age twelve, who says you can't?" shrugged Roku, still grinning. He rubbed his hands together, a gleam in his eyes. "But you're gonna give me thirty percent of your earnings if you win."
"Ew, no." Kya pulled a disdainful face. "Why would I even do that?"
"Uh, duh, maybe to make me keep my big mouth shut?" replied Roku, raising one eyebrow. Kya snorted and made a big show of leaning against the banister before answering.
"Ten percent."
"Twenty."
"Eleven."
"Fifteen."
"Twelve."
"I'll take it!" crowed Roku, pumping his fist in the air. Kya pinched the bridge of her nose, something she and her father both seemed to do frequently around Roku.
"What're you even gonna use the money for, anyway?" she asked exasperatedly.
"Imma buy booze for the super dope party I'm gonna throw," Roku puffed his chest out proudly. Kya looked at him strangely.
"Why do you even like parties so much? They're just… dumb. With too many people."
"They're fun!" countered Roku.
"Whatever." His sister shook her head and started walking up the stairs. "C'mon, those IDs aren't gonna make themselves."
"You broke my computer!" wailed Kya, shoving Roku away from her desk. Roku just scratched his head and waved a hand at the black screen.
"It's not broken, I swear! I think it just needs to— to rest for a bit!"
"It won't restart, dum-dum! I told you connecting two printers was a bad idea!"
"Well, I thought it would make things go a lot faster!" Roku adopted his 'thinking' pose, tapping his finger against his chin and scrunching up his face. "What would Uncle Sokka do…"
"Uncle Sokka would just laugh his ass off," grumbled Kya, desperately pressing her computer's power button to no avail.
Roku snapped his fingers.
"What if it just needs to be… I dunno, resuscitated?"
Kya jutted her jaw out challengingly.
"What do you mean."
"Like… hear me out, sis! What if all it needs is a bit more electricity?"
His sister pinned him with a deadpan look.
"And where are we gonna get extra electricity?"
"Uh, duh?" He held his hands out and made a circular motion, mimicking a bending kata. "I know how to make lightning!"
Kya's eyes widened and she hunched over her computer protectively.
"No. No freaking way," she said vehemently. "You'll ruin it even more. And then Mum would yell. A lot. It'll be so annoying."
"If it goes well, she doesn't have to know," Roku pointed out. "But if we don't try to fix it, they'll definitely know, 'cause you know Mom's not gonna stop asking why it broke."
"And if it doesn't work?" countered Kya, straightening up and looking at her brother squarely.
"Then tell 'em you accidentally spilled some water on it while doing bending homework or something," he shrugged. "I mean, I'm not the only one with bending disasters."
"No, but I'm better at fixing— or hiding— my disasters, idiot," muttered Kya with a scowl. "If you mess this up—"
"Yeah, yeah, you can kill me with an ice dagger and melt the murder weapon— heard that a thousand times before," Roku flapped his hand dismissively at her before shaking his arms out and falling into a firebending stance. "Are we doing this or what?"
Kya pouted for a few more moments before sighing and waving him forward.
"Have at it," she said resignedly. "If you break it, I'll just tell Mum and Dad it was your idea. I have a reputation to uphold."
Roku stuck his tongue out at her before circling his arms, brows furrowed. Static crackled between his fingers and blinding white light filled the room—
BOOM.
"Kya! Roku!" Katara exclaimed as she and Zuko rushed out of the car. Zuko sprinted to their smoldering house, helping the firefighters calm the remaining flames, and the children ran to her, tripping over their feet and their panicked words.
"I'm so sorry, Mom!"
"It was Roku's fault!"
"I tried to bend the fire but it was too much—"
"We weren't doing anything bad, I swear—"
"Come here, it's okay, we're here now, Mom and Dad are here," Katara hugged them close and peppered the tops of their heads with kisses, soot and debris be damned. "Are you okay? What happened?"
Roku audibly gulped and his sister shot him an annoyed look. Katara raised her eyebrows at the two of them.
"Roku?" she prompted when it became clear no one would confess.
"It was an accident!" blurted out Kya, her gold eyes wide. "I asked Roku to help me when my computer died while I was doing homework—"
"But when I unplugged and plugged it back in, the electricity just went whoosh and the lights went out for a bit and then suddenly the socket was on fire!" added Roku, punctuating his words with big, flailing gestures.
Katara sighed and hugged them close again.
"Well, all that matters is you're safe," she said, smoothing down their hair. "It's not your fault, okay?"
Her children stiffened against her before hugging her back fiercely.
She sighed. She saw through them as always— knew that there was more mischief to the story than they claimed— but none of that mattered. They were unharmed, unscathed, and most surprisingly, unwilling to throw each other under the bus to save their own skin.
Her heart swelled in her chest in spite of her worry.
She hoped they would still need her, despite now knowing they can watch each other's backs.
"Against all odds," whispered Katara, looping an arm around her husband's waist, watching their children sleep side by side in one of Sokka and Suki's spare rooms. "They're growing up, aren't they? I'm already starting to miss them."
Zuko glanced at her from the corner of his good eye.
"I wouldn't worry too much about them," he muttered, leaning his head against hers, "They got the best and the worst of us combined."
Katara nodded, eyes twinkling.
"Yes. Like seal jerky with fire flakes."