Incremental and familiar awareness returned with the dawn. The energy rose within Zuko, warming him until it was uncomfortably hot underneath the blanket. He pushed back the cover and lifted his head. No one was awake. Aang remained sleeping to his left while the sun rose through colorful pink and red clouds on his right. In a row across from his was Sokka, Katara, and Toph.
Deciding to let Aang enjoy a little more of the sleep he missed, Zuko quietly padded out of the room and down the stairs. On deck, there was a guard by the door to the tower whom he nodded to as he left. Evidence of the fight littered the deck: scorch marks, dried blood, and splinters of wood.
He returned to the stern where he and Aang had stood the night before with the dead man. No trace of the body now. They must have moved him below. Or already tossed him over the side.
He sat down on the deck slick with dew, crossed his legs, and closed his eyes. He needed to meditate, meditate on all that had happened, could happen, and what was happening that he wasn't aware of. Uncle, if only you were here. Yet he felt his uncle would have made the same decision Hakoda had, as stupid of a decision as it was. It always seemed to work out for him, too. Maybe Hakoda had the same kind of luck.
He tried to empty his mind of all things, to let the strength of the light, and the warmth, and the energy fill him. It would have been easier for us to stop that ship. Easier, and we wouldn't risk lowering our chances for success even more. Ugh! Clear your mind! Clear your mind!
But his thoughts remained annoyingly loud, and his repeated attempts to clear his thoughts distracted him until he heard footsteps from behind.
Zuko opened his eyes to the blue sky growing increasingly bluer as the sun rose. "Yes?" He didn't bother trying to hide his irritation.
"Sorry, are you meditating?" Katara asked.
"Trying."
"I just wanted to ask you if you wanted to come to the Ocean Giving."
"Ocean Giving?" He twisted around to face her. Katara had let her hair out of her usual plat though kept the two bunches of hair that encircled her face. And for the first time in two weeks, when she and Sokka stole Fire Nation clothing, she was wearing something other than red and black. It looked to be a large, heavy sheet—canvas, maybe. It was wrapped and draped around her entire body with many folds and creases. Obviously, it had been thrown together at the last minute. "Um." He couldn't help but stare at her perplexing outfit.
Katara ignored his stare and answered, "We're letting Grand—I mean, Paskono—I found out his real name—we're letting him and the cook, Kaska, go on today."
Burial at sea. "When?"
"A few minutes. Everyone else is up, but Sokka's still getting ready. We'll meet them there. You don't have to, but did you want to come?"
"Okay." He was a part of the group, after all; he should act like it—especially after his behavior last night. He got up and took a step before asking, "Where is it? I thought burials at sea happened off the stern." Zuko jerked his thumb over his shoulder.
Katara shook her head and gestured for him to follow, which he did. "That's where trash is thrown out. We send them off the side of the boat. They're our friends journeying to the Spirit World, so we treat them like that. You'll see in a minute."
Before Zuko had taken more than ten more steps, he asked the question that wasn't leaving him alone: "What's wrong with your clothing?"
Katara raised her arm to scratch her neck, revealing her old Fire Nation outfit underneath before it disappeared under a curtain of fabric. "It's not what we usually wear to a funeral but what counts is that it isn't nice-looking."
Zuko raised an eyebrow at her, remembering the extravagant funeral held for Azulon. All the gold filigree; the deepest, truest reds; and the mourners hired to wail at the appropriate times.
"We aren't allowed to take attention off the honored," Katara answered his silent question.
He frowned, still not quite getting it. "But you'll stick out more than if you just wore what you always wear."
She chuckled at his expression. "I wouldn't be surprised if other tribesmen are dressed like this." Gathering some of the material in her hand, she said, "It's really not that bad—though it itches a bit."
Sure enough, when they came upon a group three Water Tribesmen leaving the tower, two were bare-chested with their furs around their waists, and the third had what looked like a bedsheet with a hole cut for his head and a rope around his body to keep everything in place. It looked idiotic, but their serious expressions told him it was, if not sacred, at least a deeply-held tradition that shouldn't be mocked.
It was a reminder of how different their nations were: Fire Nation and Water Tribe—and probably the Air Nomads and Earth Kingdom too. Katara, Sokka, Aang, and Toph were similar in ways that made Zuko think they had grown up with each other for years, but it was those times when communities and countries drew on their own histories that their spanning differences were displayed.
Following the tribesmen, they soon met up with the rest of them—at least those healthy enough to stand. Just like the three they followed, each man was dressed "unostentatiously," though Zuko could have argued the inventiveness of their clothing drew its own attention.
Katara nudged him. "Sokka." She slipped her hand out from underneath her covering, pointing to her brother, and Zuko had to do a double-take. The boy was bare-chested with a fabric very similar to Katara's around his waist; however, it seemed that he hadn't taken the size and weight of the canvas into account, and a corner of it trailed a half-step behind him like a dress.
They made it to Sokka who had Aang and Toph on his left. Neither of them had any different clothing from their usual dress, which made standing amongst such a foreign display oddly comforting for Zuko. Aang whispered something to Toph who tried to keep up her stoic expression but failed as she attempted to stifle her giggles. Both Sokka and Katara shot them hard looks as well as a couple of nearby tribesmen.
Zuko stepped next to Sokka and glanced again at his short train. Through gritted teeth, Sokka said, keeping his eyes forward and his expression serious. "Don't you dare say anything about it."
"I wasn't."
"You were thinking about it."
Zuko grinned faintly but didn't reply.
"Shh, you two," Katara hushed them before turning her attention forward as well.
Incoming clouds offered a welcome reprieve from the summer sun as everyone stood in a semicircle surrounding a small, two-man boat. Zuko recognized it as a ship's boat, one of many on board used to travel from an anchored ship in deep water to shore. It didn't have anyone in it, but it wasn't empty. Instead, it contained Water Tribe bone spears, some furs, and a package Zuko couldn't identify.
He tried catching Katara's eye but she remained focused on the boat. Touching her arm, he whispered, "What's going on?"
"Yeah, what's going on?" Toph whispered on Katara's other side with Aang looking to her expectantly as well.
"Oh." She looked surprised to find herself explaining what was probably common knowledge to her, Sokka, and everyone else present. "Well, we're preparing them on their journey to the Spirit World. We know there are dark spirits so we give them weapons."
"And the furs?" Zuko asked.
"We give them furs and salted meat—smoked fish, in this case—so they can give them as gifts to any friendly spirits they meet."
"But, Katara," Aang began, "the only human I've ever seen in the Spirit World is Roku. How do you know they end up there?"
"Uh, we don't, but we believe that those who are truly worthy go there. Our people are favored by the Ocean and Moon spirits; they protect us and provide everything we need to survive." Then, speaking as if she were remembering what her mother or father told her, she said, "We're limited in what we can offer in return, so we give back our bodies to show them who it was they helped. We hope they accept our offering so they can release our spirits into the Spirit World or, at least, release our spirits from our bodies."
Zuko started to ask what made one worthy to be allowed into the Spirit World but he stopped himself when he spotted Hakoda and several others walking with two human-sized bundles wrapped in fur and canvas. Everyone else grew quiet as well, and the only movement was Hakoda, his men, and the semicircle parting for them to walk through.
The bodies were delicately placed side by side in the bottom of the boat. Then the men who had been carrying them left, leaving only Hakoda. He stayed there a minute, his hand gripping the rim of the boat, gazing down at his fallen men. No one said a word or moved.
"I am happy." Hakoda turned to face them all. That was the last word Zuko would have used to describe Hakoda's expression. "I'm happy we are all here, together, right now," he continued, "as friends, soldiers, brothers. We will never all be here again as we are today. And that is something to celebrate…as well as mourn.
"Every death weighs heavier on me than the last; I'm sure you all are no different." A few men nodded along. "Our burden is one that our fathers bore and their fathers before them. We have the fate of our tribe, our homes," Hakoda glanced toward Katara and Sokka, "and our families on our shoulders. And, like our fathers, we've been given a simple and impossible task: survive. Survive in the face of the most powerful nation in the known world.
"You, as well as Kaska and 'Kono, knew this and yet you took up arms. You said no more to the Fire Nation. You knew it was better to live and fight and die on your feet with a weapon in your hand, defending your nation and your family, rather than to be hunted down and killed like tigerseals stuck in a net!" Hatred and indignation swept through the crowd and through Zuko.
"You, every one of you, make our impossible task a little easier, a little more possible. Every contribution makes a difference, even if you don't think so. And, so, losing two brave warriors takes a toll."
Hakoda left that sentence hang in the air for a moment. "But I said I was happy, and I am. I'm happy because our reason for fighting grows stronger every day and every time one of our number falls. I'm happy because we now have hope, more hope than we've had in a hundred years. I have hope in the Avatar." The men's gazes felt like they were on Zuko as much as they were on Aang.
"I have hope that in less than three weeks we'll have the Fire Nation reeling with the death of their Fire Lord, and I hope that we will see a new, strong tide come in for our once great, but always proud, nation.
"Now, join with me as we celebrate our renewed hope in the Avatar, and the last time we'll all be together with Kaska and Paskono. May they rest easy, knowing we remain and we remember their sacrifice."
Zuko flinched as a loud cheer started up around him. Sokka yelled with them while Katara's reaction was more subdued and she only clapped. Uncertain of what he should do, Zuko looked to Aang and Toph, and he thought they seemed similarly uncertain what their roles were at the moment, particularly Aang, who had decided to stare at his feet under the looks and cheers directed at him.
After the cheering died down, Hakoda made a motion and several men lifted the boat up and over the side; others held ropes to lower it into the sea. The waves emanating from the larger ship pushed the smaller one away. Zuko thought once they had passed it everyone would leave, but no one moved.
Katara whispered, "We're waiting to see if the Ocean Spirit accepts them."
"Wait for what?" he whispered back.
"A sign."
Just as the small craft began to slip out of sight between the churning ocean waves, a green mouth, head, and neck shot out of the surface nearby. Its sea-green scales sparking in the light, the giant sea serpent rose up out of the water, opened its mouth, and dove back down, bringing the small boat with it.
Another cheer rang out and the group's tension was released. "They were accepted," Katara informed Zuko, Aang, and Toph happily.
"Gives hope for us all, especially with Kaska's cooking!" Sokka called out, cracking a smile. He received several laughs by tribesmen close by him.
The men quickly dissipated, each returning to their sleeping quarters to change to their usual clothing then move onto their assigned tasks for the day.
Their small group of five decided to walk back together: Sokka out front, holding the train of his outfit with as much dignity as he could muster, though Toph mercilessly mocked him; and Zuko walked quietly beside Katara and Aang while the boy started asking a torrent of questions. Before they had left completely, Hakoda called after Katara and Sokka. Sokka was too far away to hear and Katara was preoccupied with Aang.
Interjecting between Katara and Aang, Zuko said, "Katara, your father—"
"I heard him," she said, and she returned to Aang's question about Water Tribe spirits. Aang shared a look with Zuko, but he didn't know what to do either.
They walked on. Something about the Ocean Giving bothered Zuko. Hakoda's speech was somewhere between a eulogy, a call to arms, and a recruiting pitch. Not exactly what Zuko was expecting, but, then again, he'd had no idea what an Ocean Giving was an hour ago. Not only that, but it felt was as if he, Aang, and Toph witnessed something they shouldn't have, not because witnessing it would lead to undesired consequences, but that they just didn't belong there. It was like it was something normally hidden from outsiders—and they were outsiders. As much as Hakoda and the rest had welcomed them, they still didn't share that history and culture.
A flash of light to Zuko's right caught his eye, but there was nothing but the ship and endless ocean. The brightly-colored clouds from the early morning had turned dark gray and hung around the horizon in the eastern sky. A low rumble of thunder echoed and Zuko felt himself stiffen in anticipation. "Storm's coming," he remarked.
"What?" Katara broke from her conversation with Aang. She followed Zuko's gaze. "Oh. It looks pretty dark over there. Do you think it'll be bad?"
"Our storms usually come from the west. When they do come from the east, it's always bad. But we might outrun it."
"What's this about a storm?" Sokka fell back to walk on Zuko's other side.
Zuko pointed to his right. "You might want to let your dad know."
"I'm sure he already does—but it won't hurt to tell him." Sokka quickened his pace and passed through the tower's entrance.
"I need to change too. I'll be back," said Katara, and she followed behind Sokka, leaving Aang, Toph, and Zuko by themselves at the tower's base.
"So," Toph said, "that was weird."
"What was?" Aang asked.
"Oh, I don't know, that whole thing we just came back from. Sokka told me a sea monster ate the dead guys, and that's somehow supposed to be a good thing?"
Zuko leaned against the side of the tower. "It's probably something they've done since anyone could remember."
"Ah, yes, tradition: the best reason to keep doing something. More like the best way to keep people in line."
"The Air Nomads thrived on traditions," Aang replied.
Zuko glanced at Toph, and he could tell she was considering the easy retort, And look where that got them, but she graciously, or perhaps wisely, responded with, "They aren't Earth Kingdom traditions, that's for sure."
"What sorts of traditions does the Earth Kingdom have?" Aang asked.
"Too many," she shot back. "I'll even give you an example. My dad." Zuko's ears perked at the mention of her family. Unlike the rest of them, Toph had never mentioned her past. Zuko only knew about her history of underground fighting from Aang and Sokka. "He's in charge of the mines outside the city—you know, Gaoling, where I'm from. He's good at it, but he only got the job because his father was in charge of the mines before him. Everything gets passed down to the oldest son. Nothing to the daughter."
"Do you think he'll ever give it to you? You know, after everything?" Sokka asked. Then, cracking a grin, added, "You'd think defeating the worst guy ever would count for something."
She shook her head. "The point is that it doesn't matter if the son does anything to deserve the job or title or anything, they just get it. It's stupid, but it's 'tradition' which makes it okay."
It doesn't matter if she does deserve it, she'll never receive anything from her parents anyway. That frustration, Zuko knew all too well.
"Spirits—what's taking Katara so long?" Toph crossed her arms and turned away from them. "It feels like it's going to rain any second." And with that, it began to sprinkle. "Great," she grumbled.
They crowded by Zuko under a short outcropping along the tower.
After a minute of silence, Aang asked, "Toph, do you think we should have gone after that ship?"
She raised her eyebrows but kept her sightless eyes resting on some point on the horizon. "Having doubts, Twinkle Toes?"
"No, it's just that you said we had to accept that Katara's dad wasn't going to go after it. But what if he could?"
She shrugged a shoulder. "Not my call. I'm just the muscle." Zuko chuckled silently. "Don't believe me, Smokey?" Toph said, half-threateningly.
"I believe you."
Aang wasn't going to be deterred. "Toph. C'mon."
She grew serious. "Alright, alright. You want my take? There were no good options. People were going to get hurt either way. Either now when we tried to take the ship or later on Invasion Day."
"So Hakoda just delayed people dying," Aang concluded.
Isn't that what I said before? Zuko thought, but he saw understanding cross Aang's face this time. Now the boy knew what had been sacrificed by letting the Fire Navy ship go. He didn't add that, more than likely, more men would die on Invasion Day. Hakoda wants to shield his children. Katara is right. He either doesn't think they can fight or he doesn't want them too. They're going to have to, though. We all will eventually.
They fell back in silence again, waiting for Katara to return.
-o-0-
Katara watched the tail of Sokka's outfit slides across the stairs. Sokka's muffled voice traveled down the stairs to her: "The storm looks pretty bad, huh?"
"Zuko says we might outrun it," she offered up.
"When has the universe ever been on our side? If anything, it's been working against us. First the Fire Navy and now a storm?"
They continued stomping up the ladder-like steps. "See you later," Katara called when she reached the door to their sleeping quarters.
Sokka made some answering sound up above, still on his way to talk to Dad. Dad. She pulled off her canvas covering and threw it onto her bed in one motion before letting herself fall onto the bed as well.
Staring at the rusted pipes overhead did nothing to help ease her frustration. Sitting up with a grunt, she thought, Of course he would use their deaths as a way to promote the war. It's the only thing he has! She shot to her feet, turned, and snatched up the canvas sheet, ready to throw it. But a sudden calmness washed over her and, with deliberate slowness, she folded it instead.
A thought that she both encouraged and immediately regretted fell across her mind: I wish he wasn't here. Katara wouldn't allow herself to think about where she wanted her dad to be—that, she knew, would lead her to more regrettable thoughts. Nonetheless, she wished him gone. It was one thing for him to be away fighting the war, forcing Sokka and her to live without him. There was a certain level of comforting pride that came along with the emptiness. He's fighting the Fire Nation. That was the line that allowed so much pain and worry to be bearable. But having him back, trying to fit him into her life in a way that she had spent so much time trying to forget and remove, that was a new kind of pain. It reminded her of all that he had missed, and what was worse was that Dad didn't seem to think he had missed anything.
Still holding the canvas, now folded, she sat down again with it resting on her lap. And Sokka. He must be hurting too, she half-hoped and, again, regretted the thought. But she couldn't be the only one who was hurt, could she? Yet Sokka had been stuck to Dad's side since he arrived all those days ago. How was he not more upset?
A flash of lightning farther off was answered by a quiet call of thunder Katara could almost feel rather than hear. The storm looked a lot closer, its dark clouds more threatening as another flash flickered across the sky. A bolt reached down and touched the horizon, and the rain began, its calming, rolling rhythm echoed through the room.
Despite not wanting to leave, Katara knew she couldn't stay; she shouldn't stay. She exited the room and climbed down the stairs. She had a responsibility to her friends, and Dad would not be the reason why she didn't keep it.
-o-0-
"See you later," Katara's faint voice reached Sokka right before he reached the door to the control room.
"Yeah, sure," he replied automatically, stepping into the room.
Dad, Bato, and two other tribesmen—Horrak and Tak? Pak? Something like that—stood together in conversation. The two unfamiliar tribesmen still had their ceremonial clothing on while Dad and Bato had already changed back into Fire Navy uniforms.
Bato spotted Sokka and cleared his throat. All four men turned to Sokka.
"Should I come back?" Sokka asked, eyeing the near-strangers who wore hard expressions.
Dad shook his head and said to the two tribesmen, "We'll continue this later."
"Not too much later," Horrak said before he and Tak-Pak Guy left.
When he was sure they were out of hearing range, Sokka asked, "What did they want?"
"They're just voicing concerns," Dad said dismissively.
Bato shut the door to the control room. "More like making trouble."
"Enough," Dad said. Relaxing, he said to Sokka, "It's nothing I haven't dealt with before. Some people like to test leaders, make sure they're still worth leading. There's nothing wrong with that," he sighed and gave a tired chuckle, "but it does get old after a while. Now, what did you come here to do?"
"Oh, I just wanted to tell you about the storm," Sokka pointed to the once distant, now incoming clouds. So much for outrunning them. "Zuko says storms from the east are stronger than usual."
"There's not too much we can do at this point but thanks for telling me. I'll make sure to let everyone know we're in for a bad one." Dad looked at Bato and nodded. Bato returned it and left, the clang of the door punctuating his departure.
Dad must have seen something in Sokka's face because he added, "Don't worry, your old man has weathered his fair share of storms, and Bato tells me you're not so bad yourself."
Sokka couldn't help but smile. "I'm alright."
"Good answer," Dad replied with his own mischievous grin. Thunder sounded, and with it came the rain. "Make sure you get your sister and friends inside soon. If it's as bad as you say, I don't want anyone on deck when the storm hits."
Sokka nodded and took a step to leave but stopped. "Do you need my help with anything? What about those guys?" He jerked his head back toward the door.
Dad shook his head. "It's okay. They're just upset about this morning."
"I think you did a good job with that, Dad. We're really close to defeating the Fire Nation and we need to stick together."
"Thanks. I really needed to hear that."
Walking to the door, Sokka turned back. "Let me know if I can help."
"I will. Just keep your sister and the Avatar safe."
-o-0-
Hakoda just delayed people dying. A gust of wind rand through Aang and brought a shiver along with it. Too many people have gotten hurt. Died. For me. Because of me.
Old arguments and recent memories returned: Katara telling him she'll always be there for him, Zuko saying they were stronger together than apart, Azula using Katara against him, Zuko sacrificing himself, Guru Pathik's insistence he must keep himself distant from the ties of the world. He had tried to not care what happened to her—to all of them—but he couldn't. He wasn't strong enough. He was still too close to pull himself away.
That left one option.
The weight of the tear on his face felt different than the rain droplets. It crawled down his cheek until it gathered under his chin, mixing with the rainwater, then disappearing when it fell.
Katara exited the tower on Aang's left. "What are you doing? You're soaking wet! You all are!" she exclaimed. "Why didn't you go inside?"
"Because we aren't a bunch of sissies," Toph answered for their small group. "My money was on Aang to be the first to give up—"
Seriously? "Hey!"
"—but he did alright." She punched his shoulder for good measure, and he knew she was just playing.
But Katara ignored the teasing. "Didn't you learn anything?" she said to him. "The last time we were stuck out in a storm, we got sick. You," she grabbed his arm, guiding him toward the tower, "need to get inside and dry off. Now."
"I can dry myself," he said and pulled away from her grip. Knowing what would come next but ignoring it because she kind of deserved it, Aang placed his fists together and bended the air away. It followed his command and air rushed away from him, drying his skin and clothes. It also flung water droplets at Katara, Toph, and Zuko. "See? Dry."
If he wasn't so upset, he would have laughed. Everyone's hair, especially Zuko's and Toph's, were misshapen, looking as if they had woken up with a severe case of bedhead. A smile touched his lips. Apparently he wasn't annoyed enough to not find a small bit of humor in their appearance.
No one else was amused, though Zuko looked a bit surprised.
"That's not funny, Aang!" Katara scolded him. "Why'd you do that?"
"Yeah, I didn't do anything," Toph said, wiping water from her face.
Heat rose to Aang's cheeks, and he stopped smiling. "I can take care of myself, you know!" he shot back at Katara. A small part of him wondered why he was being like this.
Katara blinked. "I know that."
"Do you?" Suddenly, feelings and thoughts he hadn't allowed himself to consider emerged from dark places. "Because you treat me like a little kid, and I'm not! You can't—"
"Aang!" Katara's hard tone corrected him. "You are a kid! We all are!"
"But…" he tried starting again but stopped under her near-deadly glare. Looking around, the others were giving similar looks of confusion and surprise, at her outburst as much as his. All the fighting energy he'd had seconds before had vanished.
"Aang." This time was gentler, but her eyes searched his as she frowned. "What is it? Does it have to do with the Ocean Giving? The Fire Navy? What?"
"All of it. Just…" He couldn't look at her. "Just all of it." The rain continued, soaking into his clothes again.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, think of everyone who's gotten hurt since the start of this thing. All of that's on me. Because of me. Because I couldn't do what was needed."
"That's not true," Zuko said.
"It is true! I was in Ba Sing Se. I was there! I could have stopped Azula. But I didn't, and now the Earth Kingdom is fallen for good."
"But it's not for good, is it?" challenged Toph, daring him to contradict her. "What about Invasion Day?"
"When more people are going to die fighting for me? No, I won't have you or anyone else risk your lives to do what needs to be done. I need to face the Fire Lord, and I need to do it alone."
"No, you don't." Katara stepped forward and set her hand on his shoulder.
Every one of them had already risked everything for him, and he would not allow them to be one of the countless dead in his name. "I just…" He imagined Katara's and Sokka's and Toph's faces wrapped in furs and canvas, ready to be sent off to sea. "I need to go," he choked out.
He stepped past Katara and ran into the tower, up the stairs, and into their room where his staff was lying beside his bed. The wood felt cool in his hand as his took it up.
Lightning flashed outside, followed by thunder a handful of seconds later. It was poetic, or maybe just destiny: he'd left once in a storm; it only made sense that there would be one when he left again.