AN: I swear I didn't forget this!

On This Side of Oblivion

Chapter Two

Anatomy of a Trap

If Katara felt most connected to the core of who she was on stage as the Cerulean Lily, then out under the cover of night and mist, she felt most alive as the Painted Lady.

She recalled when she and her brother had arrived in Republic City, twin totems of a Water Tribe long gone. They had been all but shell-shocked, a mother murdered brutally in front of the girl's eyes and their father lost in the fray, assumed dead. As far as most people knew, there were no survivors of the decimation laid out by the Fire Nation.

And now Republic City was left with two orphans and it reared them the only way the city ever could - forcing those in their position to either seize the will to live or die nameless and forgotten.

Katara and Sokka had chosen to fight.

But the scars of the past had irrevocably changed them.

Katara remembered feeling like a ghost the first several months - years - as she fought to stay alive. Republic City wouldn't let her in nice and neatly, and so she learned the art of survival. It had been excruciating, Katara realized, to kick against every bit of morality she had in her, but eventually, she learned how to hone it, control it so that it never was used against another in her shoes if she could help it.

And now, as the Painted Lady, she felt like a master of what she once feared would conquer her. She didn't merely cheat death, she thrived. She took the reins back, finally feeling like she was sitting back in the saddle that she had all but been pushed out of years ago.

The Painted Lady gave a nice middle finger to the corrupt officials of Republic City and the even more corrupt Fire Nation. So many people came to Republic City under false pretenses, that it was neutral ground away from the influence of Fire Lord Ozai. And then they would realize all too late that they were fucked and find themselves in even more dire straits than they had been back wherever they came from. Forced labor, lack of liveable wages, discrimination toward those who looked too poor to offer anything of value to the city.

Of course, not everyone who came to Republic City suffered. The upper middle class - wealthy entrepreneurs, socialites, well-connected individuals - found that they could easily assimilate into a picture perfect life. Katara would've been lying if she said she didn't envy them.

But then she met Jet seven years ago, and it was like the veil had been lifted.

He had made the mistake of trying to pickpocket her and Sokka after a night of working their respective shitty jobs, and Katara, weary and irritable after a long day, had thoughtlessly used her waterbending to fend him off. She had normally been so cautious about using her bending abilities in public, but instinct kicked in.

And here they were now, in a place she never would've seen herself if she had been asked back then.

Actively starting a rebellion uprising against the Fire Nation.

Katara recalled Jet offering a proposal for her and Sokka to join the cause. She remembered thinking he was a dumb kid with silly ideals and false bravado.

But something told her to take a chance. To actively take control of a life that had long slipped away between her fingers. And it helped that Sokka hadn't needed much convincing at all. It seemed that the Water Tribe siblings had been looking for a sign they hadn't known they'd needed all this time.

Navigating through the crooked alleyways of Republic City, Katara kept her eyes open for the building she needed to get to and soon. Jet had left the note in the drawer of the vanity in her dressing room, the handwriting scrawled in such a way that Katara could easily hear his voice through the pen.

"Four turtle ducks swim east toward the rising sun."

The code was silly, Katara had to admit, but it was better to look silly and relay the message rather than risk getting outed. At best, no one would ever even see the note. At worst, people would just assume she had an unhealthy interest in turtle ducks and a shit talent for poetry.

Katara had been smuggling people more and more as of late outside the perimeter of Republic City, and it had everything to do with the increased presence of Fire Nation officials.

It was only by word of mouth that most people discovered the sleight of hand happening right beneath city officials' noses, but it was also what left things tenuously risky. At any moment, Katara felt she had to be ready for shit to hit the fan. Every player in this rebellion did their utmost to remain anonymous; it would never do well for the Cerulean Lily and the Painted Lady to start being tied together. But Jet had long ago ingrained in her the importance of planning for everything, including failure.

Either way, Katara felt a sense of importance in guiding those who she could out of the city and further away from the Fire Nation's reach. There was something that told her it was the right thing to do - the thing that her younger self had been owed and never got. She had wished countless times that someone had come in time to save her and her tribe, though she knew the past was already long written, that chapter of her life closed.

So it made sense then to at least pay it forward. Katara couldn't change the past, but she could change the course of the future - or at least try. It was better than sitting around and wallowing in misery.

Katara finally arrived at the place she was looking for, a nondescript building that no one would've paid a second glance unless they knew to look out for it. It was one of the few safe houses in active rotation, and it served its purpose well. It was a gray, weather-worn building, traces of having once looked to be in good-shape having long ago faded with time. She would've gotten there sooner had she not purposely meandered through other alleyways, turning and retracing her steps before taking new ones.

It was a force of habit, always walking as though eyes were on her. Because if there were eyes on her, she had hoped the route she took was too convoluted and twisting to memorize.

Katara approached the heavy metal door and rapped her knuckles against it in a pattern recognizable only to those in the rebellion.

She stepped back as soon as the hinges let out a ghostly moan, as though the door hadn't been opened in centuries. A slender girl roughly her height garbed in all black answered the door, her features set into the perfect picture of stoicism before she broke out into a small grin.

"You're just in time. The police have been annoyingly active around these parts." She ushered Katara in, closing the door quickly behind them.

"Any idea why the police are out and about here of all places? Sokka's usually good about figuring out their watch patterns."

The girl gave a shrug. "Beats me. It's most likely a spy."

"You said that awfully casual, Suki," Katara retorted softly.

"It is what it is." Turning to look over her shoulder as she led Katara down the hallway, "we have our own spies too. It's just the way things are."

Katara sighed, pulling her hood up tighter. What Suki said was true, but it still unnerved Katara. She knew it would be naive to think that their rebellion efforts would continue unimpeded, but there was a part of her that hoped they could come out on the other side successful.

And maybe it wasn't that much of a pipe dream - the rumors of the Avatar having been found were the strongest yet. Jet was sending more manpower to look into it, but Katara had a gut feeling that this was a good omen, a sign of the tides turning in their favor. She had remembered stories her grandmother had passed down to her from her own mother of Avatar Roku; he brought peace and balance to all the nations and forged a path toward unity. His good deeds were vast and his ability to harness all four elements unmatched.

Katara didn't know why the Avatar had disappeared, but she had always had faith, even as a small child, that the Avatar would return. It had stung, of course, when no Avatar had swooped in to save her family and tribe, but she still believed that when the time was right, the Avatar would come.

Suki came to a halt, Katara nearly crashing into her as she was lost in her own thoughts.

"Here they are. Everyone's ready when you are."

Katara stepped around Suki to take stock of who she would be spiriting away to the docks.

It was a girl, perhaps just a few years younger than Katara and Suki, along with presumably her mother, as well as two young men. Katara was confident that this wouldn't be too much of an issue. She had transported larger groups and groups involving the elderly or small children who had to be consoled urgently unless they wanted to attract unnecessary attention.

Katara smiled, sweeping into a short curtsy.

"The Painted Lady is at your service."

Zuko grit his teeth, cursing the Water Tribe girl's constant turning this way and that. She looked like a badgermole, nosing around every which way as though using a sense other than sight to navigate.

He suspected she was suspicious of being tailed, but the movements also seemed rehearsed to a degree. Almost like she did it often, but didn't actually have the sense to know if she was being followed right in this very moment. It was a decent attempt, Zuko could give her that, but it would only work for the incompetent - mostly the Republic City police. His lips curled at the thought of these oafs running amok in the city, but then, that's what made them good lap dogs for his father. They didn't know any better than to follow the leader.

Zuko was careful to stay out of sight and far enough away from the girl that even if she sensed she were being followed, she would never be able to spot him.

He was good at hiding, and he supposed that he had his father and sister to thank for that. Losing his status as the heir apparent had nearly rendered him invisible in their eyes.

Zuko watched her stop at the door of a decrepit building, one that once upon a time was maybe a warehouse but now lost to the ravages of time. Nothing about it stood out, and had Zuko not been following the Water Tribe girl, he would've never given it a second glance.

He muttered a curse under his breath when the door shut with a definitive, shuddering groan. He hadn't gotten a good look at who had let her in. Zuko decided to at least commit to memory the surrounding location, the very least he could do. He was aware that at the end of the day, this could've been a waste of time; maybe the girl just lived in a shithole and the Jade Lotus didn't bother paying its employees livable wages.

But Zuko was always told to listen to his gut. He knew when things didn't stack up right. And he also knew when things did. For instance, he knew his mother had never had an affair despite what the rumor mill churned out, but he also knew that it meant acknowledging the inescapable truth that he was his father's son. A truth they both held disdain for but knew they couldn't deny.

So Zuko sucked in a deep breath of air, and tried to channel the lessons his uncle had attempted to instill in him around patience and focus. Zuko decided to make a wide arc around the building, attempting to identify all the windows and entrances. As he circled to the back, he noticed a lower level exit, likely a basement level door. Taking note of the neighboring building and its fire escape, Zuko grit his teeth and began to ascend, cursing the slickness. By the time he reached the top, Zuko was at least satisfied with the fact that he could now see both sides of the building from this vantage point while still being relatively hidden.

And now, he had nothing else to do but wait.

A part of him wished he could channel Kai's energy - quiet, contemplative - his face like a placid lake, the emotions just barely making a ripple across the surface. Zuko, on the other hand, had always been expressive, quick to react and quick to raise his hackles. Everything and nothing could stoke a reaction from him.

A soft rain began to fall and the rhythm of its soft pitter-pattering against the rooftops of the city nearly lulled him to sleep. He had been so tired, barely getting a few hours of rest at a time, but even when his head hit the pillow, sleep never came easy. Dreams of his mother's disappearance, the last blurry image of her face seared into his mind, followed by the mocking laughter of Azula and his father, until blue flames speeding toward him would thrust him back into the waking realm, sweat running in heavy rivulets down his back and face.

Even now, Zuko felt his skin turn clammy, a lump forming in his throat. He hated that those memories still had the power to turn him into a child again. But he knew it was different. He was a man now, twenty two years old and no longer powerless. And yet here he was, still groveling for his father to recognize his potential.

Before his thoughts could turn a darker route, Zuko's ears perked up at the sound of movement.

Peering around the corner, he saw the briefest outline of the Water Tribe girl, followed by four more silhouettes, moving out the basement entrance. He didn't get to take note of who was with her.

It was all he had the chance to see because the Water Tribe girl had suddenly cloaked the group and the area around them in heavy mist. Zuko's eyes widened, noticing just how easily and skillfully she maneuvered the water and moisture in the air to create a fast-creeping fog.

Zuko stayed rooted to his spot, hesitant to risk revealing his presence, but then mere moments later, the mist seemed to clear and the street was empty.

If he hadn't witnessed it with his own eyes, Zuko would've thought he had seen spirits colluding before vanishing off to the Spirit Realm again. If he had believed in such folklore.

Shaking off his awe, Zuko gave a frustrated growl of irritation.

The Water Tribe girl - waterbender - had fled.

Wasting no more time, Zuko nimbly descended the fire escape and peeled off after her, clinging close to the sides of buildings and letting the shadows cloak him. Despite his surging irritation, pride swelled in his chest, because he had followed his instinct. And instinct had told him that this girl masquerading as a dancer was up to no good.

Zuko had managed to catch a faint trace of the group up ahead, and he realized soon that they were heading toward the docks. The smell of saltwater and fish lingered, and Zuko's nose crinkled with disgust, the mask doing little to mitigate the odor.

He gave the Water Tribe girl and her group a wide breadth, weaving in and out of nearby alleys while never actually descending the evenly laid out steps every few meters that lead toward the docks. Scanning the area, Zuko saw the group quickly making their way toward a boat. Narrowing his gaze, he noticed that the boat, while not ostentatious, was also no small vessel either. If he had to guess, it was a businessman's ship, though the sails were unmarked. In an effort to not stand out, it ended up garnering all of Zuko's suspicions. His thoughts drifted to Jet, and he half wondered if this was somehow tied to him, or at least someone close to his group.

Zuko was snapped to attention when he heard the faint sound of voices and footsteps on the docks. The Water Tribe girl must've noticed too, since her entourage was suddenly standing still. The mist around them, while still heavy, was beginning to dissipate.

From Zuko's angle, somewhere between both the Water Tribe girl and the incoming guests, he could slowly start to notice details as they approached.

Republic City Police.

Typical, Zuko thought, cursing his luck. He needed to know what the girl was doing, whose boat it was, and if she was part of the rising rebel groups. And Republic City Police had a stellar track record of bungling everything. His father, despite his reliance on their loyalty, had often blasted their inefficiency.

But Zuko wasn't going to intervene. Not yet at least.

Part of him was curious to see if the Water Tribe girl could work herself out of this mess. He wasn't sure if he wanted to see her fail or succeed, and he wasn't about to waste time pondering the question.

Zuko's curiosity didn't need to wait long; the police officers stilled, suddenly having the good sense to notice something was off. Suddenly, they were shouting and picking up their pace. It was two men, from what Zuko could see, and they both were rushing toward the other end of the docks where the Water Tribe girl and her group were.

If Zuko had to guess, this wasn't going according to her plan. She seemed to be stalling, unsure of whether to create more cover and allow the group to board the boat or go on the offensive. To reveal she was a waterbender these days in Republic City was a bold move. The Fire Lord's influence, whether or not people admitted it, was hard to deny. And the Fire Lord had made a reputation of going after waterbenders. Zuko remembered that the Northern Pole had always been a sore point for his father, though he hadn't at the time fully grasped the reason as to why he cared so much.

But either way, the point still stood that this girl could be in bigger shit if she didn't think carefully.

Zuko felt sweat bead down his forehead under the mask, and he watched with bated breath as the police officers drew closer. Unconsciously, his hands moved toward the twin blades he kept strapped to his back. They were archaic weapons in these times, when most people either relied on their bending or guns if they were so inclined, but Zuko's family had always had a reverence for the old ways.

As if his feet suddenly gained a mind of their own, Zuko found himself drifting closer, a plan formulating in his mind.

No, he wasn't going to let some incompetent idiots mess this up. His reputation rested on proving himself, not only to his father, but to the man who was the Fire Lord. For so long, Azula mocked and jeered at him, easily winning her father's favor with her unearned confidence and natural skill.

But Zuko wasn't going to let that continue. He was the family heir. He was the first child, the first son. And he knew he had the potential to be so much more than his father or sister ever seemed to give him credit for.

He swallowed, as if he could devour the memories that led to this scar, this shame he had to bear in public and in the privacy of his own home.

With a quickening pace, Zuko moved silently forward, feet barely making a sound on the wooden stairs leading down to the docks, maneuvering so that he was just behind the two policemen. The pair of police officers had their backs to him, never once noticing his approach. They were too busy running toward the Water Tribe girl, shouting at her to stop.

One of them pushed forward a burst of fire toward the group, and Zuko could see that the girl was caught off guard. With barely a moment of hesitation, she reacted with her waterbending, pulling up a wall of water to block the incoming fire. The mist around the group was now threadbare, and Zuko could see it was just a bunch of plain folk, two women and two men. It didn't make sense.

But it didn't matter, because in one split second, she had just revealed herself as a waterbender.

And in one split second, Zuko decided to enact phase one of his plan.

With no hesitation, Zuko silently lunged forward, the blade entering through the police officer's back and exiting through his stomach. Zuko grimaced, always hating the way a body provided some resistance as he wrenched the blade to the side before twisting it back out.

The man fell forward with barely more than a whisper, while Zuko had already given the same treatment to his colleague.

This, Zuko determined, was the first step of how to catch a waterbender.

You build trust.

AN: Please let me know your thoughts on this! I always appreciate feedback. And I'll hopefully not *checks last posting date* take nearly 9 months to post another chapter?! Sheesh.