Night comes almost too quickly. Even if I had an extra hour of trying to tell Zuko why this isn't a great plan, I don't think he would listen. I used the whole "this is the start of our new life" reasoning; "you don't even know this kid"; to the very manipulative "I thought you weren't going to do something like this again. That stealing was wrong and leads to more issues than it solves." None of them seem to get through to him.
Iroh doesn't help. He takes his ideas and keeps them to himself. Later, when Zuko was meeting up with Jet and the other two, Iroh said, "I know why you do it. And I know why Lee won't listen."
Since he was no help with persuading Zuko, I don't give him a reply. Instead, Iroh says, "You're both too stubborn for your own good." He laughs while he says it, and I do smile at his laughter.
He's right. I don't think I can stand by and let Zuko go blindly down the wrong path. Someone has to be his conscience, telling him right from wrong. Spirits, it's always been me.
When Zuko returns from his little heist, passing out bowls to refugees, I don't accept anything from him. Sure, the soup tasted like garbage, boiled, mixed, and handed out, but I can't allow this new start to be, well, stolen.
I sit around with Zuko, Iroh, and the two Freedom Fighters - Smellerbee and Longshot. I enjoy Iroh's hot tea, made from some of our last reserves of tea leaves. I don't enjoy any of the food they've stolen. I listen to the night, and the water, and the chatter around us. But I can't look at Zuko. Not without glaring.
Iroh picks up the conversation, saying, "So, Smellerbee. That's an unusual name for a young man."
"Maybe it's because I'm not a man. I'm a girl!" She shoots up, walking away.
"Oh, now I see. It's a beautiful name for a lovely girl!" Iroh yells after her, trying to correct his mistake.
Longshot, the tall silent boy, follows her. They share a quiet conversation, and it seems to boost Smellerbee's confidence. Before the two other Freedom Fighters return, Jet sits down on an empty cushion.
"From what I heard, people eat like this every night in Ba Sing Se. I can't wait to set my eyes on that giant wall," Jet says.
"It is a magnificent sight," Iroh says, nodding.
"So you've been there before?"
"Once. When I was a different man." Iroh looks away from us, remembering the person he was before. I am sitting next to him, and I squeeze his shoulder to comfort him.
"I've done some things in my past that I'm not proud of, but that's why I'm going to Ba Sing Se. For a new beginning. A second chance."
"That's very noble of you. I believe people can change their lives if they want to. I believe in second chances." Iroh looks at Zuko when he says this.
"But, it means you have to be willing to change," I say, directing my words at Jet, but meaning them for Zuko. "If you were a thief in your first chance, it doesn't make a difference if you choose to be a thief in this second chance. You're just the same person in a different space. You need to be different, not just want to be different. The intentions should match the actions."
Jet doesn't care for these pointed words. He glares at me, standing up, and joining his other Freedom Fighters at their own gathering. I still don't dare glance over at Zuko, but I can feel the heat pouring off him. Can anyone else? Do they know?
Eventually, everyone starts to settle down for sleep. Iroh stays up late, pacing our small space we've set aside. Zuko takes it upon himself to take the pack from me, using it as a rough pillow. We are handed scratchy blankets that smell like the ocean.
I can't sleep, so I lean against the side of the boat, watching Iroh staring out into the ocean. Zuko, not sleeping either, says something to me, sitting up and looking at me. We are about five feet from one another, and I can't not look at him, not when he's called my name. Well, refugee name.
"Amrita."
"Yes?" I ask, not wanting to start anything, but not wanting to push down an opportunity to show Zuko the right way, the right path. I glance over at him. Once I've met his gaze, I can't look away. His eyes dance fire even in this night air.
"I'm sorry." Zuko whispers it out to the air. Letting it go like a breath. He takes the wind right out of my sails.
I falter, bending gone, air right out of my glider. "I shouldn't be so mean. Your uncle says we're allowed to make our own choices. I shouldn't force you to make the ones I would."
"You're not . . . forcing me. You're showing me." Zuko pauses, looking at me. His hand is twisting the orange cloth, but not in such a dramatic manner as I did when I fidgeted with it. "In a rather forceful way, sure. But you're both right."
"Ba Sing Se is a second chance for you," I say. He knows this. Iroh knows this. We all know this. "But you have to want to be a different person for it to work. You have to let your anger go. Your frustration, your shame. You have to start anew."
Zuko doesn't say anything, so I clamber on. "It's spring. A new beginning. Take this as a sign. Your sister won't find us here, not in Ba Sing Se."
In the dark, I see his head nod. I smile, though Zuko can't see it. He waves me over, holding the blanket up. "They didn't give us nearly enough blankets. You'll get cold."
My heart flutters in my chest, and I nod at him. I see Iroh out of the corner of my eye, gazing out at the water. Is he thinking about his different life? The son he no longer has and the family he has grown?
Regardless, Iroh has witnessed the whole conversation, however quiet we tried to be. He sees me crawl into Zuko's arms, and I can only imagine his grin.
Some time, in the middle of the night, Zuko jolts awake, which causes me to jump up quickly, scrambling for my bo. "Uncle, what are you looking at?" Zuko asks, still laying down but groggy with sleep. "Is there something out there?"
Iroh is a little away from the edge of the boat, and I catch him glancing at the sky. There, in the hazy night sky, is a bison flying over us. Across the bay. Toward Ba Sing Se.
"Uhhh," Iroh says, scrambling, "it's nothing. You two go back to sleep." He sighs when he hears Zuko's head hit the pack. I move over to Iroh, still holding my bo. Iroh shakes his head, and I nod. Agreeing that if Zuko were to find Aang in Ba Sing Se, it would be the end of his second chances.
I can't go back to sleep after the sky bison sighting. I lean against Iroh in the predawn haze, watching the water hitting the bottom of the ferry. We don't speak about what we saw. I doubt we ever will. Maybe my words that I said to Zuko rang true for Iroh too. All of us need to move forward, to want to be different.
Eventually, Zuko wakes up and shoulders the pack, wrapping up the scratchy blanket. He wanders off when it gets lighter, and the fog gets thicker. We are getting closer to Ba Sing Se.
"We breached the wall from the west," Iroh says, pointing further up the line of the wall of Ba Sing Se. There is a mountain on this side, so it is difficult to see where he means. "There's a river that runs on the other side of the Serpent's Pass. The Fire Navy are constantly patrolling it, looking for weaknesses in the structure of the wall."
After a long pause, he says, "There are Fire Nation within the walls of Ba Sing Se. We used them when we laid siege. Most of them were likely taken as prisoners of war after the siege, but I imagine Ozai has had more spies installed."
"We can avoid them," I say.
"They are likely stationed strategically. In the Middle and Upper Rings," Iroh says. "We will be in the Lower Ring. I doubt we will even see them."
"Oh, good," I whisper. What use are refugees to the Fire Nation anyway? Would Azula even think to look here?
Zuko joins us as the ferry makes it to a dock. He isn't saying much, and he isn't giving me the pack. I wonder if he realized I've been shouldering all of our belongings this whole time, and that it can be quite heavy. There is a folded up picture of his mother and him in there, which could have come from either of the two. Pai Sho tiles. Tea leaves, an accompanying teapot and cups. A salve the flower shop owner gave me for Iroh's burn before we left. Things that we have gathered from our travels, my only belongings.
We exit the ferry and are led along the dock and up into the wall. There is a monorail station here, where all the refugees once again wait in a long line to ride a monorail car. The monorails have been here for a long time, used to traverse the largest city in the world. The cars are pushed by earthbenders along rails. I am reminded of Omashu and the mail carts.
When we get to another lady that inspects our passports, wearing the same uniform as the one at the ferry station, I am exhausted. The sleep I've gathered over the past few days was on an ostrich horse, in a flower pot, and a hour or so cuddled up against Zuko. I wonder how long it will take us to find a place to sleep, because I could drop at any moment.
"So," the passport lady says, holding up our passports and inspecting them closer than the first lady, "Mr. Lee, Miss Amrita, and Mister . . . Mushy, is it?"
I try not to laugh at the misreading of Iroh's name, but the passport lady sees me and glares. Iroh doesn't skip a beat, saying, "It's pronounced 'Moo-shi'."
This lady does not like being scrutinized or laughed at. She is the head of Serious Station, which we've apparently docked at. She says, "You telling me how to do my job?"
"Uh, no, no, no," Iroh says, backtracking quickly. He steps up to the lady's desk where our passports sit. He leans against it, saying, "But may I just say, you're like a flower in bloom. Your beauty's intoxicating."
If the flower he's referring to is the mole growing two thick, dark colored hairs, sure.
I keep my quips to myself, but I know Zuko would crack a smile at these little bits of fun in this mundane and regulated place.
While the lady didn't like the laughter, she sure appreciates Iroh's flattery. "Mm, you're pretty easy on the eyes yourself, handsome." She purrs at Iroh, and says, stamping our passports, "Welcome to Ba Sing Se."
Zuko snatches his passport away from Iroh, saying, "I'm gonna forget I saw that."
"Hey, even your uncle needs to find love in his old age!" I say, trying hard not to laugh. We move into the station area where the cars arrive. They didn't really give us an estimated time for the car to arrive, just where it would show up and where it would take us, which was through the Agrarian Zone and into the Lower Ring.
The whole area is lit with these green luminescent rocks, which provide an unnatural glow to the area. There are benches placed around lights at regular intervals, and the tunnel goes down further into darkness. The carving above where the car comes from is beautifully done. A mural of plants and animals, a small story of how Ba Sing Se came to be.
I read and heard a lot about Ba Sing Se when I was traveling with the other Air Nomads. It was beautiful, but strict and full of secrets. Once you arrived in the city, it was difficult to leave, for a variety of reasons. It was easy for us. They didn't put a dome over the city, but had enough regulations on visitors and what you could say and do. I never visited, but I was given a chance to explore now.
If we were nomads by nature, how could they have captured us so easily? We were spread across the world once, and there was hardly any room for hatred in the Air Nomad teachings. There were some of us still in hiding, training their children and grandchildren to hide from the Fire Nation. To blend in.
I wander back over to Iroh and Zuko, who have taken up a place at one of the benches. Our new friend Jet leans against the pillar that houses the light. Iroh sits down with a cup of tea, taking a sip and grimacing. He spits it out in disgust.
"Ugh, coldest tea in Ba Sing Se is more like it! What a disgrace!" Iroh says. I sit down next to him, laughing. Zuko and Jet stand up and move out of earshot. They have a quiet conversation, and it looks like Jet is upset by whatever Zuko said to him.
"Maybe you should have your own tea cart, Mushi." I nudge him. "You'd probably make a lot of money, especially when it's so cold out."
Iroh nods in thought, stroking his beard. However, he cautiously looks around, like he's about to do something in ill taste. "Don't do it, Mushi," I whisper, knowing where his thoughts would lead him. Iroh would do anything for a cup of hot tea. Anything. Including bending in public.
Before I can stop him, he has already sent heat through his hands. His tea starts to steam. "Mushi!" I whisper yell, looking around to see if anyone saw. I catch sight of Jet and his eyes are wide.
Zuko approaches us, follows my widened gaze to Jet, and slaps the cup of tea out of Iroh's hands. Jet walks away, but I follow him with my eyes.
Iroh yells, "Hey!"
Zuko, furious, says, "What are you doing firebending your tea? For a wise, old man, that was a pretty stupid move!" He looks over at me, probably trying to blame me.
I put my hands up, saying, "I told him not to. You know how he is."
Iroh sounds melancholy, looking down at his tea. "I know you're not supposed to cry over spilled tea, but" - Iroh starts to cry over his tea - "it's just so sad!"
When the car finally arrives, I whisper into Zuko's ear, "I don't think we've seen the last of Jet. We should be cautious about this going forward." Zuko nods, and I glance around for any sight of Jet.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see the Freedom Fighters boarding the same set of cars as us, but further down the line. The quiet one with the big wooden hat tries to cover his eyes, but I think they see me looking at them. I grab Zuko's sleeve and nod toward them. Zuko narrows his eyes, but does not take action.
We sit next to a couple with a baby. Iroh, ever the child lover, leans over and says, "What a handsome baby!" He strokes the baby's cheek.
The mother says, "Thank you." The baby is asleep, peaceful, oblivious to the turmoil outside Ba Sing Se's walls. I hope we can be as peaceful, happy, and ignorant of the fate set before us.