Jiao looked at the clothing on the counter, checking the seams and fabric for imperfections. It was an ornate green robe with dull gold trim, the sort that high-ranking bureaucrats wore, and nearly a dozen more were piled on the counter next to it, alongside their gaudy jade rings and peacock feathers. He picked up the next one and paused, focusing on one particular spot.

Lee couldn't see it, and frankly, he didn't care to. It had been a simple job, stealing a collection of the uniforms from a tailor in the Middle Ring, and now they were delivered. Unseen, unknown. The only evidence would be the lack of the uniforms themselves, and by the time that was uncovered, Jiao would've probably already sold them. Tonight was just a basic handoff. The only thing that seemed different than usual was the thin layer of stubble on the older man's face, the gradual recovery of the man's facial hair after it disappeared just over a week ago. But Lee wasn't interested in asking why. So, he just waited, leaning against the pharmacy counter with his arms crossed, waiting for the man's predictable grunt of approval.

Instead, the man hummed.

"What?"

"Nothing you need to worry about. Just a discussion I'll have to have with the buyer."

"Ah." Lee took off his black gloves, rolling them up and shoving them in his bag.

The pharmacy was nearly empty, silent and draped in the dark of midnight. Jet and Smellerbee were outside the pharmacy chatting, but their words were muffled by the still air and the thick mud walls. Presumably Longshot was with them. An oil lamp flickered in the window, its dull orange light casting long, soft shadows. Lee breathed in, closing his eyes as he centered himself on the little flame. A warmth filled his body.

Another moment passed.

Jiao grunted.

"Everything's in order?" Lee cracked open his eyes, turning to face the man.

"Indeed. Here's for the last job." Jiao pressed a handful of silver coins into Lee's hand, his words curt and clipped. "Apparently the buyer was willing to pay a fair bit for the steam engine schematics, so we got more than I expected."

Lee took a moment, counting the silver. Five, six… seven for each of them. Not a huge amount, but then again, it was as much as he earned at the tea shop in half a week of shifts.

"Any idea who the buyer was?"

"Fences tend not to like answering that type of question." Jiao scowled, methodically folding the robes and placing them into boxes marked for medicine. "All I know is that they were flush with cash and dry on industrial designs."

Lee hummed, lingering next to the counter. Lee didn't quite understand the man next to him. He was coldly practical, and frankly secretive, but he clearly had good connections. The man moved so much merchandise that Lee frankly wondered if he practiced medicine at all. It would certainly be impressive if he had the energy to. But maybe it was simply that the people who could notice didn't care, or rather, chose not to; after all, a lot of people in the Mill District seemed to rely on the food his smuggling provided.

What Lee didn't understand, more than anything, is what Jiao got out of it. Lee got some coin and some free food, and on a regular basis too, a simple payment sure, but enough to justify the risk. But as far as Lee could tell, Jiao didn't get anything. From the state of his hand-stitched clothes, it seemed like every coin went to buying food for the Chenjia Society.

The difficulty that created, unfortunately, was finding the man's chink. The string that Lee could pull to use him. Some people were easier than others. Most people would give Zuko what he wanted with a sufficient threat, a simple but effective measure. The Avatar would fold to protect innocents, especially his travelling companions. Even Jet was simple enough to handle; stroke his ego some and make sure he felt in control, and he was more than happy to take suggestions. That was half the reason their heists had gone smoothly, thanks to Smellerbee's influence. Jiao, though… he was more complicated, or at least, harder to pin down. Once again, Lee could only compare the man to Azula. He didn't like the comparison. Azula was dangerous. But hopefully Jiao would be an asset to reaching Koji, not a complication. With his connections and experience, getting to the man would likely be far easier. Lee cleared his throat, looking at the plain, long-haired man. "… Did Jet tell you?"

Jiao paused halfway through folding, shooting Lee a discerning look, before continuing to stash the merchandise. "About your heist idea? Yeah."

He quirked an eyebrow, squatting down next to the box that Jiao was working in. "So why haven't you asked about it?"

The man shrugged noncommittally. "Because it's a bad idea."

"What?" Lee shot up. "Why!?"

"Lee, industrial schematics aren't rice wine." The man sighed and continued to fold the robes, his words firm but not aggressive, as though speaking to a child with far too many questions. The tone grated on Lee's nerves. "You can't just grab them and then find an eager customer. The customer finds you, and then you grab them."

Lee took a deep breath, steadying himself with a grimace. Find the thread. Speak his language. "You mean to tell me that, with all the mining and smelting north of the city, there isn't an entire market dedicated to this?"

The man casually nodded, before looking at another one of the robes on the counter and jerking his head towards it. "Oh, there almost certainly is. We're just not in it."

"Then why not break into it?" Lee grabbed the robe, folding it and handing it to the man. "Think of how much money this could bring in for the Chenjia society."

Jiao grabbed it, but gave Lee a sour scowl before putting it into the box. "You're not going to drop this, are you?"

"I just think it's an idea worth investigating." He just shrugged, deflecting the charge.

Jiao huffed, pausing to stand up fully and placing a hand on his hip. "Fine, fine, let's investigate it then. We'll need to break into the university. That's in the Upper Ring-"

Lee shook his head. "Wait, I thought it was in the Middle Ring?"

The man shook his head, pinching his nose and closing his green eyes as he sifted through the details. "Part of the campus is, but not the archives. So, we'll need to find a way to get into the Upper Ring, a process that could take weeks or months. Assuming we find a way in that won't alert the Dai Li and will give us access to the Ring, we'll then need to find a way to infiltrate the archives itself, which are heavily guarded, thanks to their importance to the Royal War Ministry. If those are completed, then we'll need to undertake the heist, and manage to steal enough records to have a stock to choose from, since we don't have any specific customers with specific products in mind. Likely several dozen scrolls at a minimum, especially since we don't know which are rare and which have common reprints. Stealing that many from the archive would almost certainly be noticed, which would then alert the Dai Li, and so we'd have to find a fence that's willing to buy extremely hot goods, and those sorts only do it for an extremely low price due to the high risk involved."

The wave of information washed over Lee, a solid wall of specificity that he was too unfamiliar with the city to deal with. He grit his teeth, trying to reorient the conversation. "But the potential value from selling-"

"Ah, potential, yes." Jiao cut him off, snapping his fingers at the point. "This is, of course, assuming that the designs we stole had any value at all, and that there are fences that have the contacts needed to sell them. If they don't, then we have attracted the attention of the Dai Li for goods that hold absolutely no value, meaning we'll have to go underground and the Chenjia Society will have no source of income for potentially months. If they do, then we'll potentially make only marginally more than a normal job thanks to the increased risk to the fence, and we'll have a lot more heat." The man paused, rapping his fingers against the desk as his fingers wandered, as though some spare details may be laying around the room. But before Lee could open his mouth to respond, Jiao simply clicked his tongue, looking back at the scarred man. "Lee, it's a bad idea."

Lee opened his mouth to retort, but nothing came to mind. What on earth would he even be able to say? The man was dead set against the idea due to its risk, and Lee just didn't know enough about… well, anything to alleviate or deny those worries. But that same lack of knowledge was exactly why he needed Jiao's help, so-

He leaned forward, hissing at the shorter man. "I need to do this, Jiao."

"Why?" Jiao didn't flinch.

Lee clenched his teeth. He didn't have an answer. He didn't know the man's thread.

"Why, Lee?"

"I-" The word caught in Lee's throat, a sentence leading to nowhere. Azula had always been better at this. He was too simple, too direct. It was why he was exiled, even.

Jiao took a step back, leaning against the cabinet of herbs, and let out a deep sigh. "Jet said you froze up. What's bothering you?"

"Nothing." The answer was instinctive. Sharp. Clipped.

Jiao snorted. "That's bullshit and we both know it. This isn't about a heist. You're not thinking about the money, and you're not thinking about the Chenjia Society."

Lee shrank away, unwilling to meet the man's eyes. He wished he could just leave, but the man had questions, and they would still be there after the next heist. "Why do you care?"

The man's face contorted into a dry scowl. "Because you're my associate, and a distracted associate shortens both his career and mine."

"You're so caring." Lee grunted, shooting the man a dirty look.

"You want a caring relationship? Get a girlfriend." Jiao clearly noticed the look. But he didn't react. His total lack of concern only made the snub hurt Lee's pride more. "I don't want one of my people getting caught by the Dai Li."

"I'm not your responsibility." The words came out like a growl. Lee wasn't anyone's responsibility, and no one was his. He wasn't like Zuko, someone with a place, a name, a role to fulfill and a responsibility to uphold. Lee was nobody, a convenient mask that Zuko would wear until it was no longer needed, and as such, Lee had no obligations to others, and no one had any obligations to him. He would construct a story around him, give himself a part to play, but it was assumed and artificial, no different than an actor wearing a Blue Spirit mask.

"But you are my liability, so you either have your head in the game or you stop going on jobs." The man opened a drawer in the counter, pulling out a carton of cigarettes. He took one, placing it on his own lip, and handed the other to Lee. The firmness in his eyes told the younger man that it was an order, not an offer. Lee took it, letting the man light it with a match. "Now, tell me, what's bothering you?"

Lee sucked in the smoke, crumpling his face at the taste before puffing out the curls of black and gray. It was bad smoke, tasting more like the coal that they burnt aboard his ship than half decent tobacco. But Jiao breathed in his own wordlessly, the man's dark eyes demanding an answer.

… He couldn't just tell him. 'Oh, I'm the exiled prince of the Fire Nation, and I want to contact a childhood friend to see if I can secure sanctuary in Omashu.' Yeah, great idea. At best, Jiao would think he was crazy. At worst, he'd think he was telling the truth. But Lee had no leverage on the man whatsoever, and if he left now, it would be even more suspicious than any half-baked lie. He took a deep breath, considering.

He would tell… a truth. Lee's truth. He frowned, looking at the older man. "I have… someone I need to reach. In the occupied provinces."

Jiao looked at him, and then his cigarette, watching its tip glow softly as he breathed in. He let out the smoke with a relaxed puff. "Family?"

Lee shook his head. "No, but… Pretty close. I need to send her a message. And the man who made that scroll… If he can get a scroll out of the occupied provinces, then maybe he can get one in."

A few moments of silence passed. Jiao tapped his foot, his sandal slapping against the wood, and stared intently at the floorboards. He flicked his gaze over to Lee, staring into him. "It's that important?"

Pausing, Lee stared at the smoke rising towards the ceiling. It disappeared as it reached the top, fading to nothing. A fire burning to nothing, alone in a city of stone. His heart squeezed tight, but he nodded. "I'd put my life on it."

"You better." Jiao ground his half-burnt cigarette into the countertop, clenching his jaw. "Lee, I'll say this as bluntly as possible. Do not try to manipulate me. It will not work."

The words felt like a hand reaching in and squeezing Lee's guts. Lee wanted to look away, but he forced himself to meet the man's eyes, pushing down the shame. He shouldn't have felt that way. He was Prince Zuko, people sometimes were simply meant to be his tools, and shame was just a weakness that prevented him from doing what needed done. He had burnt down villages and taken hostages, after all, and had never felt an ounce of shame at that.

… But that wasn't the case with Lee, was it? That must be where the shame is coming from. A man like Lee was supposed to feel shame for trying to manipulate a… Well, an acquaintance, he supposed. He steeled himself, bowing his head slightly at the man in front of him. He had failed to secure Jiao's help, but maybe he could salvage this connection. "I won't. I promise."

For a few moments the man's gaze weighed on him like a chain around his neck. But then the man nodded, seemingly content. "Good. I'll help."

"Huh?" Lee's head shot up. "But you just said-"

"I said it was a stupid heist plan. And I stand by that. But what you need is a lot simpler, and..." Jiao hesitated, weighing his words, before his gaze softened, oh so slightly. It was strange, an unnatural, unidentifiable expression on the man. "I also know how hard it is to contact people in the occupied provinces. I know your desperation."

Lee didn't know how to respond. He was dumbfounded. He had no thread, no leverage. Jiao had absolutely no reason to help him, nothing to gain, and nothing to protect. But still, he would. It seemed too good to be true. He shook his head, watching the man return to folding robes. "What will I owe you?"

Jiao simply rolled his eyes. "You owe me keeping your head on straight and doing your work. You're a damn good thief and, from what I can tell, at least a halfway decent person. I like working with you."

Lee narrowed his eyes at him. "Nothing else?"

"Nothing else." He spoke firmly, simply, and placed the lid of the wood crate on, hammering it shut with a couple of nails. He grunted, saying the words between hammer swings. "You may be hungry, but never starve. You may be cold, but never freeze. We take care of us."

Lee didn't know what to say. But finally, he settled on the proper response. "Thank you. Really."

"You're welcome. We'll talk another time, after I've had some time to think about it. Now here's your payment in full." Jiao reached down, hefting up a basket full of cabbage heads. "Now get. And make sure to hand the others their coin."

)ooOoo(

The bar was too small for the amount of life in it. The tight underground hovel had been a bar as long as anyone could remember, a watering hole below ground and away from the prying eyes of green robes. But the tight, arching ceilings and narrow rows of hallways were proof of its history as a rice wine cellar. A gourd lute, bamboo flute, and woodbox drum rattled the cold stone walls, filling the place with a bouncing beat that was only complimented by the cacophony of casual conversation. A few dozen people spun and stomped in the center next to the band, a wild and loose variety of dancing, lit by a scattering of oil lamps hung from the ceiling that kept the place bright enough to navigate, but dark enough to hide away in. Others gathered towards the edges and throughout the dark hallways, circled around improvised tables made of empty liquor casks, like councils of cat-owls. Smoke lingered in the air, the acrid taste of cheap cigarettes swirling with the sour scent of burning opium, all over the rancid stench of sweat, lust, and mundane sorrows. The whole place was a nest of chattering wolf-bats, buzzing and chattering and nipping at each other in the subterranean dark.

Jin threw back her rice liquor, downing the tasteless liquid in one movement, her throat on fire and smoke in her lungs. It tasted like a garbage fire and hit her stomach like a lead ball. Slamming the glass on the table, she let out a belch and gave her friends a cocky grin. "Another!"

"Tough bastard, aren't ya?" The bartender, a balding older man with a long queue and a tired smile, gave a half-laugh, half-sigh, barely audible through the din. Picking up the shot glass with fat fingers, the man set it behind the bar, a dingy piece of sandstone that had bended up from the unfinished floor and stained by decades of use, before giving her a stern look. "I'mma cut ya off if you're walking home alone."

"Pssssh, don't you worry a bit." Jin rolled her eyes and snickered, nudging the girl next to her with her elbow. She rubbed her tunic sleeve against her mouth, adding a layer of liquor to the dried sweat and grease stains. "You're here to take care of me, aren't you Yahui?"

The small woman leaned against the bar, her patched up work apron crumpled up and tossed over her shoulder. She scowled, swirling a glass of pale beer, before giving a nod and a tired sigh. "Unfortunately, yes."

"Then, another!" Jin grinned triumphantly, laughing like a circus hyena-bear and pointing to the bartender. Her head was buzzing slightly, just the slightest bit foggy, and her cheeks flushed hot, but it was a pleasant, relaxing sensation, a warm blanket of loose smiles and easy laughs that kept the winter cold at bay.

"Fine, fine, headed your way." The man shook his head, but he swiped another glass from under the counter and filled it with another round of the crystal-clear liquor, casually sliding it down the counter.

"Here's eight!" Catching the glass, she threw her head back and tossed the liquid down her gullet. The liquid fire hardly touched her tongue on the way down, but it punched her in the nose as she swallowed, pungent enough that Jiao could probably use it to prevent an infection. But it was nothing that she hadn't wrestled with before, and it landed in her belly just like the last seven. Her words slurred slightly, her Dangfang accent slipping out as she slammed down the glass and turned to her friends. "See! I can outdrink any'a y'all!"

"Yeaaah!" Liyang cheered, slapping her on the back. The kid was just as grimy and tired as the other two, sweat wafting off him strong enough to make Jin gag, but unlike Yahui, he shared Jin's carefree grin. He raised his own glass, downing it, before waving down the bartender. "Another!"

"Ah, no." Before the bartender could spot the call, Yahui reached up, pushing his hand down. The motion was relaxed, but clearly firm. "Let's put a pause on that, actually."

"Awwww, but Yahui!"

"She's already too many drinks in."

"She could beat her record tonight!"

"Damn right I could!"

"You, shut up."

"Make me."

"Yeah, make her!"

Yahui shifted her gaze from Liyang to Jin, deadpan irritation dripping from her stare. Jin could practically hear the woman's tight grimace telling her to stop encouraging their younger friend, but… Well, that was probably more of a… a friendly suggestion than a threat. The smaller woman had never actually hurt anyone before. Jin snickered, raising her drink to her lips, only to frown when the empty glass had no drink left to offer.

The smaller woman let out a short, sharp sigh, before clearing her throat and jerking her chin towards someone on the other side of the bar. "By the way, I think there's someone over there, looks all lonely by herself… What's her name, Cixi..?"

Glancing over, Jin caught sight of a girl a few years younger than her, but a bit older than Liyang, leaning against the far wall and nursing a drink alone. Maybe another mill worker? Her face was vaguely familiar, but honestly, Jin couldn't place her. But judging by her tidy little bun and the pretty, fern-colored sash tied tightly around her waist, she was about as dolled up for a weekend as someone could be in the Mill District.

"Wha-?" Liyang's cheeks flushed the color of bacui berries, and he ran his fingers through his greasy, curly hair, futilely trying to smooth it. "Do- well, uh, would she mind if I..?"

Yahui scowled, giving him a flat look. "How should I know? Shoot your shot."

"You never know till you try!" Giving a boisterous laugh, Jin punched him on the shoulder. "Go get her, ya tigerdillo!"

"Y-yeah." The boy nodded, shooting Jin a weak smile and coughing. Jin grinned back, wide and confident. The motion seemed to steady him, and he smiled just a bit wide, puffing out his chest. "Yeah, I'm gonna go talk to her!"

"Yeah, you got this! Sweep'er off her feet!" Jin slapped his back, like christening a new ship, and the boy staggered across the bar, trying to strike up conversation. She couldn't hear what he said, or her response. But Jin did see the girl laugh.

… Hopefully that's a good sign.

Yeah, yeah, that must be a good sign. Liyang is a funny guy.

She leaned back against the bar counter, looking at Yahui out of the corner of her eye. "So… do you really think he can do it?"

The smaller woman snorted, not even bothering to watch as she took another sip of her beer. "No way, not under the Earth King and not under the Fire Lord either."

"You're a dick."

"Eh, he took my thread knife and dropped it into the canal. He deserves this."

Snickering, Jin shook her head. "That was by accident!"

"I don't care. I demand tribute." Her voice was completely flat, but Jin could see the wry, humorous smile on her friend's lips. But after a moment, the smile wavered, and the woman turned to properly face her, a weight in her dark eyes. "… Jin, are you okay?"

"Okay? I'm doing great!" She nudged her friend with her shoulder, gesturing around the bar with her glass. "I haven't had this much fun in weeks!"

Yahui furrowed her eyebrows. "Are you sure? Even with… well, you know."

"Come on, spit it out sister!" She waved at the balding man on the side of the counter, her words bouncy and bubbly. "Bartendeeer, sounds like she needs some more booze to loosen her lips!"

"Don't listen to her, I still have half a glass." Yahui held up her cup, as if to show the evidence, before giving a huff. She turned back towards Jin, but her gaze seemed to look past her for a moment, focusing on the other side of the bar before finally resettling on Jin. "Fine. Even with everything going on with Huang, and then Feifei. That has to… not feel good. It has to be hard."

Jin opened her mouth to respond with another jab, but the words caught in her throat. Her smile suddenly seemed a lot heavier than before, but while it softened, Jin refused to let it drop. She stepped closer, throwing her arm over Yahui's shoulder as she sifted through her fuzzy mind for the right words.

"…Don't worry. Yeah, yeah, that's… that's sad, that hurts, but doing this? Spending time with you? It's fun! I'm… not worrying about it right now." The words… almost felt true. She wanted them to be true. Tonight had been fun. Is fun. But it didn't seem to stick, the hole in her chest refusing to be filled. She opened her lips to speak, but her tongue lingered, unsure what to add. Finally, she shook her head, looking across the bar. "What're you looking at anyways?"

There was Huang.

And Qing.

Together in one of the darker corners.

Talking. Laughing. Smiling.

"… Aw fuck." The words slipped out on their own. The stone ground underneath her feet slipped away, dropping her into the unending maw of the ocean, unimaginably dark, crushingly alone, and frighteningly cold. The sounds of music and conversation couldn't reach her, leaving her alone with the sound of her own unsteady breath, and whoever else was around her, she couldn't see them, her mind unable to understand anything more than Huang's wide smile, and the woman across from him who was not Jin.

It hurt. A deep, aching, hollow hurt. Like a hand she had lost years ago, but sometimes could still feel.

"You miss him?" Yahui's soft words dragged Jin up from the depths, bringing her back to the moment.

"I wish I didn't." Jin stretched a smile across her face, but despite her effort, it was still pathetically small and hopelessly fake. Her throat and eyes burned, but she pinched the bridge of her nose, refusing to let out any tears.

Her friend took a sip of her drink, before nodding and biting her lip. "… Yeah, I get that."

What? She also-?

Jin turned to her, raising an eyebrow. "You want Huang?"

"What?" The smaller woman turned to her, bewildered. "No, he's a cockroach-rat, I don't get what you ever saw in him."

"You just said-"

"No, I want Qing."

"Qing? But-"

"Yes, Qing." Her expression was just as flat as usual. She glared at the drink, as though this was somehow its fault, before pushing it back on the counter and sighing. "I like women, you idiot."

She likes-

But-

… Well, that would explain a few things, actually.

But whatever bafflement and revelation Jin felt at the moment was quickly overrun by a sloppy, sneering scowl. "Qing, Qing, Qing! Is there anyone in this town that doesn't want to get into that woman's pants?!"

Yahui shrugged. "Come on, even you have to admit she's hot."

"And I'm not?!" Jin's voice got louder and louder, far beyond what was needed to be heard in the noisy stone room. "Why don't you like me like that!?"

"Because you have issues." Yahui pointedly avoided Jin's gaze, instead turning to look across the bar. Liyang and the girl were still talking, surprisingly, and he had moved on to doing carnival tricks with his earth bending. The older woman scowled, shouting over to him. "Liyang, put the rocks down or you'll get drafted!"

"Everyone has issues!" Jin grumbled, half to Yahui, half to herself.

"Okay, fine." She rolled her eyes. "You don't have the issues I'm attracted to."

Jin was silent for a few moments, glaring at Yahui. The woman didn't react, continuing to watch Liyang's surprisingly successful attempt at flirting.

What was wrong with her, huh? What was Jin doing wrong? Why did someone like Qing seem to get everything? Why was everyone around her so damn happy, and why couldn't she be? Why did Jin feel like shit all the time? She tried so hard, did so much, and all the payoff was a deep sense of self-loathing and a bar tab. How was that fair? She turned, her eyes burning into the back of Qing's head. She hoped the woman would notice. Or Huang. Definitely Huang. And then she'd… she'd… Jin didn't know, but she'd do something. She scowled, staring into her empty glass with the same disdain she had for herself.

And then, something clicked, appearing in her mind without invitation. She turned to her friend. "… You have a mommy thing, don't you."

The woman went rigid. Jin could practically hear her joints clicking like gears as she turned to face her. "Shut the fuck up."

"Ha!" Jin burst out a single, sharp laugh, the realization that she finally had something over the cool, unperturbed Yahui. The bizarreness of it mixed with the rice liquor in her belly to make a cocktail of stupid laughter that overrode the dread and anger that had filled her gut just moments before. "I can't believe it wasn't obvious before! I mean-"

"I don't wanna hear it from Miss 'I-can-fix-him!'" Yahui cut her off, gritting her teeth in a dry smile that promised violence. "And if he has scars, I mean, you'll just about strip down for him then and there! You're way worse than me!"

Jin laughed even harder, unable to contain herself. "At least I'm honest about it! And besides, scars are hot!"

"Hunting for boys in the burn ward, are we?" Her friend's sharp tongue sputtered.

"You're an ass."

"And you're a bitch."

The pair glared at each other, but then burst out laughing, at each other, at themselves, at the situation. As stupid as it all was, it made Jin feel a bit warm in her chest, in a way that was different from a shot of liquor. She didn't feel completely better, her eyes still lingered towards Huang, but… well, her smile felt a bit more real at least.

"Mind if I join you?" An uncertain voice cut through the din, and the pair turned to see an unfamiliar young man coming up to the bar. He was maybe a bit taller than Jin, with well-tanned skin and pretty green eyes that complimented his nervous smile. He leaned against the counter, trying to look larger than he was, but that couldn't hide his awkward stubble or boyish face. She couldn't help but notice the splotches of burn scars on his forearms, and the leather blacksmith's apron hanging from his belt.

Yahui coughed, smiling smugly. Jin narrowed her eyes at her. But then, she turned back to the young man, who was clearly waiting for permission. She could distinctly feel the liquor in her gut as she looked him up and down.

… Fuck it, why not? He's pretty cute. She likes green eyes, after all.

"Sure, come on over." She scooted, making room and fluttering her eyes at him. Green Eyes sputtered. She almost smiled wider, but the weight on her heart didn't let her.

He cleared his throat, scooting closer. His eyes wandered, not quite able to meet hers. "Could I… get you a drink?"

"I dare you."

"Uh-" Holding up his hand, Green Eyes gestured to the bartender. Hardly a moment passed, and the older man slid two shots down the counter. He picked up the shot, and tried to sip it, but wretched at the taste. Jin laughed.

"No no no, like this." Picking up her glass, Jin made sure Green Eyes was watching and threw it down the hatch. Quickly, easily. She leaned forward, giving him as fierce a grin she could muster. For some reason, that shot hadn't been as fun as the others. "And that's number nine."

He just stared at her, eyes wide with terror and amazement. "You scare me."

"Good. It's a lot like swallowin' swords. You have'ta know how to keep your throat open, or else you'll just end up hurting yourself." She snickered, leaning back. There was a warm buzz in her head, a familiar sensation that she wanted to enjoy, but she couldn't quite indulge herself like that. She looked at the glass, dragging her finger along its lip. "Maybe I should try sword swallowing, huh? Join a circus?"

Green Eyes shifted his weight, holding the glass with two hands and a distinct discomfort and he worked up some nerve. "I, uh, have a sword for you to swallow, if you're up for it."

Jin snorted, shaking her head. No subtlety at all, huh? Well, not that she minded, really. No one comes to a bar for love, and honesty is a virtue, isn't it? She wished she was better at it. "Care to romance me first?"

There was an uncertainty in his expression, a confusion as he scrambled to find a proper response. Green Eyes wasn't expecting to make it this far. It was… amusing. Adorable. Jin watched his thoughts swirl, a loose smile on her face.

"W-would you care to join me for a dance?"

Well, at least he had come up with an answer. She flashed him a smile, pushing off from the counter. "There ya go."

Yahui scowled. "Uh, Jin, should you-"

Jin shrugged her off. "Don't worry, don't worry, I can handle myself."

"… I'll just be… over here, I guess."

She grabbed Green Eye's wrist, dragging him to the center of the dance floor. He stumbled behind her, giving her a witless grin. And she smiled back, starting to move to the tempo of the band. Spinning, stomping, holding and dipping. Green Eyes was an awful dancer, but she didn't mind a bit; he seemed to get better the longer they danced, or maybe she was just getting used to his quirks. Either way, her heart beat with the drum and her feet moved to the strum. Jin let herself fall into the music, the world swirling around her like a drunk painter's masterpiece.

Everything else going on, Huang, Qing, Feifei… Here, amongst the music and alcohol, the strumming and thrumming of a life lived recklessly, as the sweat dripped off her body and she leaned into Green Eye's gaze, they were far away. A worry outside of the now, a worry that didn't exist. And she wanted to keep them far away, at least… at least for the moment. Tonight, she just wanted to have fun. And she would.

Another drink.

More dancing.

Talking.

Drinking.

Dancing.

Talking.

Drinking.

Danc-

Lips against hers. She closed her eyes, leaning into the hot, sloppy feeling. Her feet moved without her, staggering up the stairs and into a nearby alley. The winter chill made her shiver, but his warm body pressed against her, enveloping her. She wrapped her arms around him, drawing him close, closing her teeth around his neck. His hands explored her in the dark, eager but inexperienced. She let him, simply enjoying the sensation. Of being pampered. Of being pleasured. Of being loved. Even in the haze that engulfed her mind, loosening her lips and weakening her knees, she knew this was what she wanted, more than anything, more than life itself.

"May I..?" His hand slid down, slipping under her sash. His rough fingers felt like lightning on her stomach, cold and hot and sharp.

Her eyes shot open, and she jerked away at the sensation, holding a hand to his chest. She locked onto his eyes, seeing his enthusiasm turn to desperation. His firm embrace was suddenly suffocating, and his warmth was unbearably hot. Her head was spinning. It was… wrong. So wrong. She didn't know him. She couldn't do this to him. No, no, this was just her relieving stress on him, taking advantage of his loneliness. That had to be it. He had to be desperately lonely to act like this towards her. And she was just going to use him and cast him aside, cruel and careless. Stringing him along for her own entertainment. Just another failure, another scar to bear, another person to hurt. She was terrible.

She had to be stronger.

"No. No, no." She pushed him away, breathlessly repeating the only word that seemed to make sense in her thoughtless head.

He didn't resist, his bright green eyes filled with hurt and confusion. They were all she could see in the dark alley. "… Did I do something wrong?"

"No, I just…" She shook her head, grasping at words, but her thoughts were clumsy and sluggish. Her cheers were hot and wet in the winter air. Was she crying? "No."

She choked back tears, pushing herself off the mudbrick wall. Green Eyes didn't stop her, but when she stumbled, he moved to catch her. Jin pulled herself out of his grip, trying to stand on her own two feet. In the end, she found herself leaning against another brick wall. The cutting cold against her skin was nice, almost soothing, compared to the blistering heat of the bar. Of her own heart.

"Should I-?"

"No." The word snapped out, filled with an anger and desperation she wasn't aware she had in her. But she pushed herself up, carefully dropping one step in front of another. "I'll just… I'mma go home."

Jin's chest hurt.

)ooOoo(

"Up to grab a drink?" Smellerbee paused at the crossroads where the group normally parted ways. She leaned to one side, hands heavy with a bag of cabbage, and glanced at the other three.

"I'm game." Jet shrugged, his back popping as he rolled his gave a small nod. The three turned to Lee, as if expecting an answer.

Lee paused, looking over at the three freedom fighters, and then at the moon. It was beginning to set already. The bags under his eyes suddenly felt so much heavier. It had been a long night. He frowned. "I'm good, thanks."

"Come on, gonna leave us high and dry like that?" Scoffing melodramatically, Jet shook his head. "You're part of the crew, too, and the whole crew celebrates together."

"Huh." Part of the crew too? Well, they had been working together for over a month, of course they would assume he was part of the crew now. It wasn't true, but it shouldn't have been surprising. Lee didn't instinctively grimace at the thought. "I have a shift tomorrow morning though. Need to get some sleep."

Smellerbee groaned, scratching the back of her neck. "At the tea shop? That sucks. I would go crazy working as a server. I'd rather take a Fire Nation battalion on myself, thanks. At least then I wouldn't have to worry about tips to pay my bills. I'd just steal their supply wagon."

Lee huffed, almost a laugh, but didn't smile, just offering a shrug. "It is what it is. I need to clean out a few of the white pots. One of the other servers left tea in them, and they stained."

"You've been domesticated." Jet snorted, sneering in a way that was bordering on humorous. "Next time?"

Lee almost said no on instinct, but something made him pause. "… Yeah, next time. See you later."

Longshot nodded at him, and Lee nodded back, watching the quiet man turn and leave. The other two followed close behind him, Smellerbee offering a casual wave. They turned into an alley, presumably headed towards an apartment or camp, but honestly, Lee didn't know. He had never asked.

Instead, he turned, continuing down a dirt avenue. The night was quiet, his own footsteps a solitary companion, and the chilly air nipped at his ears. He held his basket of cabbage over his shoulder, his muscles sore from the obscene amount of running and jumping he had done to snatch those robes. He stared at the moon, admiring its pale light, and the inky shadows it cast on the stone buildings of the Lower Ring.

Distant memories bubbled to the surface at the sight, the Moon Spirit dying as it soaked the world in darkness. He hadn't been there when it had actually happened, but it was impossible to ignore it when the pure white snow turned bloody red.

… He had come so close that night. So close to redeeming himself. So close to returning home. He had actually captured the Avatar, right out from under the nose of his companions and even Admiral Zhao. But it had all fallen apart so quickly, and all it had left him with was frostbite scars and a three-week trip on a piece of driftwood to the mainland. And then Azula had found him and Uncle, and then…

Lee scowled, smoldering at the thought. Not that he could change it now. It seemed so far away. It didn't matter though, all he could do was move forward. Hopefully he'd be able to contact Mai and find a true ally. And then he and his uncle could finally escape this mundane existence in the Lower Ring slum, and he could get his life back on track. Something in his chest stirred, a deep longing for his hunt to resume. In a twist of irony, Lee realized that his punishment had become his north star. If his time in Ba Sing Se had shown him anything, it was that to try and navigate by anything else just left him directionless. After all, what could give him purpose more than the very royal role he was born to fulfill?

A crash shook the still air, brittle wood cracking against stone, and Lee spun to face it, his hand falling to his swords. It came from the alley, pitch black. There was a shuffle, brief movement, and the sound of someone sucking in a breath. Lee narrowed his eyes.

A moment passed. Nothing moved.

Taking a cautious step forward, he peered into the dark alley, scanning. It took a moment, but his eyes adjusted. There, between a few scattered crates, was a person, collapsed against a wall and sobbing. They shot him a look, but then looked away, scooting further into the alley.

Ah. Just a drunkard. Lee let his hand drop from his swords. They were the only people out at this time of night other than himself. He scowled, half out of pity, half out of disgust, but turned to leave. Whoever they were, they were no threat to him.

… Wait a minute.

Lee paused, turning to get a second look. Did… Did he recognize them? He would be surprised, he hardly knew anyone in this city, but…

He caught the barest sight of her face.

Oh yeah, he recognized her. Lee paused at the mouth of the alley, trying to place her face. Short, it seemed, but it was hard to tell with her curled sitting against the wall. Dark brown hair, slightly warm despite the cool moonlight and tied into a pair of braids. Jade eyes that were strikingly familiar, but he simply couldn't recall from where. She seemed to be wrapped in a ratty old tunic, dotted with dark stains, but that certainly didn't seem familiar.

"Why're ya glaring at me?"

"Huh?" Lee looked back at her face, realizing that she was looking back at him. She had a stern look, like a porcupine-lizard seeing a potential predator, but her eyes were unfocused and bloodshot. He responded plainly, stating a fact. "I'm not glaring at you."

She frowned, unconvinced, and her words were loose, slightly slurred. "You have a pretty nasty stare."

Glancing down, Lee noticed the empty bottle on its side next to her. Whatever its contents had been, they were probably in her stomach now. He sneered. "You don't look so happy yourself."

The woman snarled, looking away and kicking the bottle further into the alley. "Shut up. You don't know what I deal with."

"Try me." The woman was pathetic. She couldn't understand true loss, not compared to his pain. In his exile, he'd lost more than her peasant life could let her even imagine. But, strangely, seeing that blunt scowl had finally jogged his memory. He hummed at the realization. "You're Jiao's sister."

She paused, confusion entering her eyes as she looked him up and down. "Do I know you?"

"Probably not." Lee shrugged. "Do you recognize me?"

For a few moments, she stared at him intently, and he could almost see the gears turning behind her eyes. Very slowly. She finally grunted to herself, as though having decided on the answer. "Goldie."

Lee opened his mouth, and then closed it, scrunching up his eyebrows. "… What?"

"Your eyes are golden. You work with Jiao." She pointed to his face, stating the obvious like it had some sort of logic.

But… she was correct. His eyes were golden and he did work with her brother. "… Yep, that's me."

A moment passed, neither having anything left to say. He had found his answer, and presumably, she would just be happy if he wandered off. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the wall behind her. He nodded to himself, and turned to leave again, making his way past the alley.

… But should he?

Why not? He had to get home.

Yes, but leaving her alone? She's clearly wasted.

So what? He doesn't owe her anything. He's not responsible for her.

And Jiao's not responsible for you, but he's helping you anyway. She's his sister. He has to be worried.

Does that man even have the capacity to worry?

That's not a valid excuse.

"We take care of us, huh?" Lee groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. Turning on his heel, he marched back into the alley, right up to the woman. Holding out his hand, Lee waited for her to grab it. She didn't move. He grimaced at her. She grimaced back.

"Come on, get up."

"Why?"

"I'm helping you. You need to get home."

"No. I can take care of myself."

"No, you clearly can't."

"Well, you're not gonna help me." She snorted, pointedly looking out of the alley instead of at him. "I carry my own weight."

"Then stand up."

Her face was scrunched into the sort of immature, careless defiance only possible for young children and the inebriated. "No."

Lee growled, clenching his jaw. Why was she so stubborn? He was actually trying to be helpful! He should just leave her here, since she clearly doesn't want his help. But he could easily imagine her getting hurt somehow; he had no idea how Jiao would react to that. It had the potential to throw a complication into his own plans. Clearly. Anything else he felt at the thought, any twinge of guilt or worry, that was irrelevant. This was about Jiao. Concern over upsetting the man who could significantly influence his plans to contact Mai and secure asylum in Omashu, nothing more.

Lee took a deep breath, centering himself. Find the thread, find the thread. He didn't need to force her to come with him, just convince her to get to the pharmacy where Jiao could be responsible for her. She clearly didn't want his help though. He crossed his arms, an idea sprouting in his mind. "Fine, I won't help you."

She grunted. "Good. Why are you still here?"

"I need you to help me."

The woman paused, narrowing her eyes in curious suspicion. "… What do you need?"

"Well, I need to find the pharmacy." Lee took a step back, casually leaning against the alley's other wall. "But I'm lost."

She snorted, rolling her eyes. "You're lost? It's easy to get there, you just need to… uh…" The woman lifted her hand to point, but her words trailed off, uncertainty creeping into her jade eyes.

Lee coughed, cutting off what he could tell was about to be a very long and unsuccessful attempt of hers to locate where she was. "Could you show me how to get there?"

Pausing for a moment, she looked at him, uncertain discernment in her gaze. The gears were still spinning though, ever so slowly. Lee contained a groan. If the spirits would favor him just this once, just this one time, he would be endlessly thankful. Otherwise, he was just leaving her in the alley, Jiao be damned. He didn't have the time nor reason to drag her to the pharmacy kicking and screaming.

And apparently, for perhaps the first time in his life, they decided to favor him.

"Yeah, yeah, let me jus-" She nodded, attempting to push herself to her feet before stumbling forwards. Lee moved before he thought, catching her easily, but as soon as she was in his grasp, she gripped his wrist, throwing his arm over her shoulder. There were a few moments of swearing and chaotic struggle, both of them trying to hold up the other, until they finally settled into an uncomfortable tangle where the woman seemed to be holding up Lee, despite him holding all her weight. Lee groaned, distinctly sore and uncomfortable. The woman nodded smugly, giving Lee a look of feline self-satisfaction.

But, it worked. Picking back up his bag of cabbages, Lee began the tedious process of navigating back towards the pharmacy. He contained his irritation, but as the two got into a familiar, if staggering, rhythm, he began to calm down, just focused on the movement of their strange three-legged race.

Now that they were out of the alley, he was actually able to get a proper look at her. She looked haggard. The moonlight only made it easier to see the bloodshot in her eyes and the frizz of her hair, and her face was marred by a scowl, but it was soft, weak. He held back another groan, this time for himself, and decided to let himself ask. "…Why were you crying?"

"Why should I tell you?" She muttered the words, defensiveness undercut by exhaustion.

He huffed, looking away. "I don't know. Because I asked?"

She was quiet for a moment, as though considering, but finally sighed. When she spoke, it was softly, almost shamefully. "Will you tell anyone else? It's… it's my secret."

Those words had a weight to them that was oddly familiar. He shook his head. "… No, I won't."

"Promise on Bride's wrath?"

He grunted, hauling her around a corner, but nodded. The pharmacy was just on the end of the block. He had long since learned to stop asking questions about particular phrases. "I promise."

The woman's whole body tensed, and she clenched her fists, as though the words she were about to say were a massive weight. Her frown had softened into something tender and vulnerable, almost afraid. "It's… because I'm sad."

Lee looked at her, but she just looked back, a heavy weight in her dark eyes. Was… was there more? Or was..? Clearing his throat, he suddenly wished he had his uncle's capacity for insight. "Why… are you sad?"

"Because my life is terrible." Her gaze had fallen to her feet, listlessly watching the ground beneath her pass, but she suddenly looked back up, a demanding focus in her eyes. "Now you tell me why you're sad. It's only fair."

"What? I'm not sad." Lee stared at her, confused by the sudden shift. "And you didn't answer my question anyways."

"Yes, you are." She said the words firmly, bypassing his protests.

"No, I'm not." Confusion hardened into denial.

She shook her head, "Everyone is. We just pretend we're not."

"Well, I certainly don't hang around in alleyways and cry!"

"That's mean! I only do that… sometimes." Plopping down on the pharmacy's stoop, she looked away, mumbling. For a brief moment, she looked genuinely hurt.

Lee paused, something squeezing in his chest at the sight. She was stubborn, argumentative, and demanding, but… this might be the first conversation he had had in years where the other person wasn't trying to get something out of him, that wasn't an act on some level. At least, nothing that wasn't so dramatically farcical that it was ridiculous. She was blunt, direct and honest, and even if that was just the result of the bottle of liquor in her system… It was nice. Maybe he owed her some honesty, too. There wasn't anyone else he could give it to.

Lee grunted, dropping down on the stoop next to her. "Fine."

She looked over at him, surprise in her eyes. "You'll be honest?"

"Yes."

"And you're sad?"

"… Yes." He hissed out the word, like pulling teeth. But, after sucking in a deep breath, he looked up at the moon and let his heart open. Just a little, just tonight. Just for someone who didn't know him, and could never use it against him. "I… I don't want to be here. I'm not from here, this isn't my home. I don't know anyone here, I have nothing to do, I'm just… sitting here, rotting. I have important things to do, and I just can't do them. I can't… redeem myself. I can't live up to my honor."

"Live up to your honor?" She repeated the words, playing with them as she joined him in looking at the moon. She said them with such weight that Lee could almost believe that she understood what he really meant.

But she couldn't. Of course not. No one in this slum could really understand the weight on his shoulders. It felt nice to tell someone anyway. "I have people I'm responsible for, responsible to. And I need to be better. But I don't know how to do that, especially not here."

She let out a small, mirthless chuckle. "Hey, it doesn't matter where you are, you can always disappoint people."

"Thanks." He tried to glare at her, but he was too tired to, only able to soak his words in sarcasm.

All she did was shrug. "It's what I do everywhere I go."

Lee huffed, shaking his head. "You don't get it. My father hates me. He threw me out because of how much of a failure I am."

"Pssh, you think that's bad?" She turned to him, her head lazily rolling on her shoulders. "My mom left me on a battlefield, just up and left. Real bitch."

"Are disappearing moms a normal thing?" Lee snorted, shaking his head. "Mine disappeared in the dead of night when I was a kid. I think my dad might've… I don't know. Made her disappear."

"Sheesh. Tough family. Your mom gets disappeared, you get cut off…" She ran her hand through her hair, pushing a few stray strands out of her face. "At least my parents had the decency to do it all at once."

"That's not the half of it. My dad was the one who did this." Lee pointed to his face, turning to let the angry red scar glow in the moonlight.

She winced, but shook her head, waving it off. "Eh, I've done worse. I accidentally killed my friend earlier. Got her arm trapped in a gearbox, ripped the whole thing off. Died of infection."

Lee… Lee had nothing to say to that. He sighed, ceding the victory to her. He wasn't happy, not by any stretch, but somehow, he felt lighter, his chest a bit less tight. "… Yeah, our lives are terrible."

"What? Noooo! Our lives are wonderful, and beautiful, and…" The woman rushed to deny it, pasting on a smile, before it quickly died, replaced by a grimace that was too harsh for her slurring words, and a sigh that was too blasé for the dark topics at hand. "Well, no, they're not. They're awful. Do you have any more rice wine?"

The moment should've been sad. It should've been deeply depressing, frankly. But, for a reason he couldn't understand or identify, Lee started to laugh. Nothing big, nothing loud, but a small chuckle that he just couldn't stop. Here he was, the fallen and exiled prince of the greatest nation on the planet, hiding away in a slum, serving tea and committing petty theft, pinning his hopes on some distant plan to convince his old girlfriend he hadn't seen in years to go against royal decree and offer him refuge. And who was it that he could be most honest to? Who was it he could speak the most openly with?

Some drunk earth peasant with a family life maybe half as fucked up as his own.

What was there to not laugh at?

"Whaaat?" She stretched out the word, whining.

"Nothing, nothing, just… You're funny."

"Stop laughing. I'm not funny. I'm sad."

"You can be both."

"But I'm not!"

"Well, you're making me laugh." It took a moment, but he managed to settle down, enough to speak earnestly. "Thanks. I needed this."

For a moment, she just looked into his eyes. But then she jerked her gaze away, her cheeks turning redder in the moonlight. Lee suspected the booze must still be kicking in. He couldn't even imagine how much she must have drank. "… Any time, Goldie."

The door swung open, revealing a thoroughly annoyed Jiao, holding a candle and dressed in a sleeping robe. "You're loud."

His sister shot up, fighting to hold her balance as her leg wobbled. "I, uh, I was helping him find the pharmacy."

Lee got up slower, nodding to Jiao before sticking a thumb towards the woman. "She's drunk."

She scoffed, her older brother half-catching her as she stepped through the door. "Only a little! And I led you here, didn't I?"

"Yeah, yeah you did, thank you." Lee shook his head, but his smile didn't fade as he moved to close the door.

"Hey, hey, Goldie." She caught the door, and for a moment, she said nothing, struggling to find words. But finally, she gave him a small smile. "You're funny and sad too."

And with that, the door closed.

… Maybe Ba Sing Se did have a certain beauty to it, at least in the moonlight.

A/N: Happy New Year, y'all!