Chapter Text
This Zutara fanart was drawn by me last year for this fanfic. The Japanese on it says: Even if the world burns down, I'll fall in love with you.
Underneath her thin threadbare futon, worn with several patches, Izumi felt chilled to the bone. Although her Auntie Ty Lee restoked the old hearth only a few minutes earlier, a cool dampness still managed to seep through the thatched roof of their rickety wooden house. Shivering like a leaf, Izumi snuggled closer to the warmth of her aunt laying by her side. A Kyoshi Warrior used to the harshest of conditions, Ty Lee seemed unaffected by the bitter winter night as evidenced by her cheerful smile as she cradled a protective arm around her niece’s head.
“How was your day at school?” Ty Lee whispered, stroking Izumi’s dishevelled ebony hair.
Leaning closer into her aunt’s maternal touch, Izumi nestled deeper into her pillow with an excited grin. “The elders talked about Fire Lord Zuko and Fire Lady Katara today.”
“What did you learn about them this time?” Ty Lee asked.
Despite how carefree her aunt’s tone was, Izumi caught the edge of hesitation in it. Neither did she miss how Ty Lee’s beaming face, usually so full of energy, appeared to cloud over ever so slightly. She never understood why her aunt, always so quick with a smile or playful quip, seemed unwilling every time to dive into the subject of the Fire Nation’s rulers. And yet, why should she be?
Fire Lord Zuko and Fire Lady Katara were said to have been celebrated war veterans and master benders of their elements. Though they were opposites in many ways like the fire and water they commanded, tales spoke of the love they shared being as strong as Oma and Shu’s. But any mention of them always seemed to sadden her Auntie Ty Lee, no matter how hard she tried to hide it. It made Izumi question whether there was more to it than the elders knew or chose to reveal.
“Well, it wasn’t a lesson about them at first,” Izumi admitted. “We had initially been learning about the Battle of Caldera City.”
Izumi could still recall the thrilling details the elders had recounted. How the attack was really just a ploy against the Fire Nation forces. How the Bloodbending Queen came like a black shadow on her dragon, unleashing a massive rampage by burning countless buildings and people to ashes. How even though he knew they were no match, Fire Lord Zuko made no attempt to flee on Druk, but instead drew the feared bloodbender and her dragon away towards the ocean.
Izumi forgot that she was only relating a history lesson to her aunt; in that brief moment, she was seeing and living the battle scene, watching the Fire Lord swoop from the midnight skies on his dragon, whose final feat she was narrating. Her mind could envision the two winged beasts shooting fiery breaths at each other as their riders urged them on, holding onto their reins for dear life, as they spiralled downwards.
“But then, I asked Elder Choji about whether Fire Lord Zuko and Fire Lady Katara could still be alive, and the entire class got sidetracked as a result.”
Ty Lee smiled in spite of herself. It was just like Izumi for her mind to wander off during class. Even so, Ty Lee’s constant worrying over whether or not it was good for her niece to be learning such tricky topics came back to haunt her.
“I could tell the elders were annoyed by the disruption, but they were at least still willing to discuss possibilities with everyone,” Izumi continued. “Auntie Ty Lee, do you think the Fire Lord and Fire Lady are still out there somewhere? They never found the bodies after all.”
“I think that’s enough morbidness for one day,” Ty Lee said, turning over and blowing out the candle by the futon. “Try to get some sleep now, alright?”
The already cold room felt more chilling, Izumi sensing the unspoken grief in her aunt’s words along with the Fire Lord and Fire Lady’s tragic tale. A story of the fleeting nature of happiness in a world that could change in an instant. She couldn’t help but feel the sting of it. She knew her aunt had her own stories to tell—stories of love and loss that no one had ever spoken aloud. Practically burying her face in the crook of Ty Lee’s shoulder, she pulled the duvet over her head. Somehow, she was able to doze off.
It seemed like only minutes had passed before they were both woken by the faint echoes of a pealing gong from outside. The deep resonant alarm only meant one thing on Kyoshi Island, and it was a sound dreaded by all its inhabitants who wished to never hear it. Shouts could be heard followed by the distant rumbles of explosions. Ty Lee needed no other warning, immediately snatching the metal fans from under her pillow and beginning to yank on her armour. The sight made Izumi frozen in place, so used to her aunt being slow and meticulous with putting her Kyoshi Warrior outfit on properly.
“Izumi, come on!” Ty Lee’s voice was sharp as steel with urgency. “We’re under siege.”
“Auntie—”
“Izumi, we have to go!”
Not waiting for a reply, she snatched her niece’s hand and pulled her out the door…to immediately meet the carnage. The acrid smell of smoke hit them at once like a brick wall, as flames licked the village’s wooden structures. Carrying banners bearing a crimson phoenix sigil, the same emblem adorning their soot-black armour, soldiers stormed the main road now littered with gore and destruction.
“Captain Ty Lee! There are too many!” one of the Kyoshi Warriors yelled over the battle cries. Her face was stained with blood with cuts everywhere on her body as she tried to incapacitate soldier after soldier.
Crimson red was the new colour painting the once peaceful island, which had now become a stage for senseless violence. The invaders just seemed to keep coming, slaughtering every man, woman, and child they came upon, the air thick with the unholy stench of death. Izumi let out a scream as she saw one soldier, a firebender, engulf a Kyoshi Warrior with a continuous blast of flames. Only a single animalistic gurgle managed to escape her throat before her blackened body fell like a deadweight, her limbs melted together.
“Let’s go!” Ty Lee said, wrenching Izumi towards the safety of the woods.
The battle was in nobody’s favour yet. The wounded lay in heaps at the sides of the road, moaning and wailing as they tried to hold their intestines in, or lay senseless in their own blood with missing limbs. Some succumbed to a frenzy, on a rampage against anybody standing in their way, while others fought merely for the sake of survival.
A side stitch was forming in Izumi’s abdomen as she struggled to keep up with her aunt’s pace. With her fans, Ty Lee skillfully deflected every attack sent their way. However, her heart dropped into her stomach once what seemed to be a large inky shadow engulfed the entire village. It swooped overhead, blocking out the moon’s luminescent glow before landing amongst the destruction with an earth-shattering roar.
“Shit!” Ty Lee swore.
Looking back towards the dragon, Izumi saw a tall woman dressed from head to toe in black slide off its saddle, her face covered with a veil. The only splash of colour on her was the blue necklace around her throat. She emerged from the flames like an angel of death, raising her tanned brown hands as though they were the spindly limbs of a spider. Her mouth falling open, Izumi watched as immediately a bunch of Kyoshi Warriors seemed to lose all sense of their bodies, dropping their metal fans. Contorted in mid-air as if they were mere puppets, they were thrown into the burning wreckage of the Kyoshi Dojo. From the distance they were flung from, Izumi knew they were goners.
Her stomach twisting into knots, she saw the woman’s head raise in her direction, and though her face was covered, Izumi somehow knew that she was looking straight at her. From all the tales and lessons she heard, there was only one individual Izumi knew to possess such raw power…
But she got no further glimpse of the woman as Ty Lee yanked her into the forest. Though they were concealed by the trees, Ty Lee didn’t slow down until they reached the shrine of Avatar Kyoshi.
“Now, you must stay here until someone comes to get you and says it’s safe, alright?” Ty Lee ordered. “Open the doors to no one unless you recognize their voice.”
“Don’t leave me, Auntie!”
“Izumi—”
“Stay! Please, stay!”
“Izumi, I have to go—”
“No!”
“Izu—”
“No! No, no, no…”
She clung to her aunt’s arm like a vice, unable to keep her eyes from spilling over with tears. The selfish side of Izumi argued that the other Kyoshi Warriors didn’t need their captain’s help. Surely, they could spare her! She and her aunt could stay hidden here together, safe until this was all over. But deep in her heart, Izumi knew her aunt was never one to run away from a fight, especially when others needed her. But what about herself? She needed her aunt more than anybody. Without Auntie Ty Lee…she had nobody.
With grim acceptance, the Kyoshi Warrior whispered, “Izumi…I knew this day would come.”
“W-What?”
“I can’t explain it. You wouldn’t understand. But…even though it hurts, and I knew we’d eventually be faced with something like this. Just remember in your heart that I wouldn’t trade any of the happy moments we’ve shared. Not one. Not for anything.” Ty Lee’s lips quivered as she pressed a quick kiss to Izumi’s forehead. “I don’t regret anything. Not a single moment of it.”
Through clouded tears, Izumi looked up at her aunt with a mixture of fear and love. “Just promise me you’ll be okay.”
Ty Lee didn’t answer right away, unsure whether to give false promises. Instead, she moved aside part of the tatami mat to reveal hidden steps leading down to a separate underground chamber.
With a forced smile, she finally replied, “I’ll be alright, sweetie. And you’ll be safe down here. Have courage.”
Izumi didn’t break eye-contact with Ty Lee until her aunt closed the panel, hiding her from the world above. The sniffles came back as she descended the steps into the vault below. It felt like the walls were pressing in on her with the weight of all her fears. Would she ever see her beloved aunt again? Rubbing her eyes, Izumi tried to distract herself by looking about the room. It was full of relics that once belonged to Avatar Kyoshi, including her warrior garbs and fans. Izumi could almost feel the Avatar’s spiritual presence connected to the artifacts. It lingered in the solemn stillness like an echo.
Getting on her knees and clasping her hands in prayer, Izumi whispered, “Please protect Auntie Ty Lee. Keep her safe.” She paused for a moment, alert for any sign that she had been heard by the former Avatar or the spirits but was disheartened at no indication of any answer.
‘This is hopeless, isn’t it?’ Izumi thought.
After all, even if she and her aunt made it out of this alive, what then? Kyoshi Island, the only home she’d ever known, was no longer a safe haven. Was any place really, what with the war going on?
Unconsciously, Izumi began pleading over and over again, “I wish I could change it all…I wish I could change it all…I wish I could change it all…”
She didn’t know for how long she kept repeating those words. Minutes? Hours? At some point, her mouth had run so dry that all that was coming out was air. Everything around her ceased to exist. She was only conscious of her desperate prayer.
“You are far from home, young one.”
Izumi’s eyes shot open at the sudden and unanticipated voice. It was one she did not recognize, yet at the same time, felt so familiar. Lifting her head, she was met with the sight of a towering figure she saw only in paintings and statues.
“Avatar Kyoshi…” she breathed.
Was this a dream? How could this be possible? Yet, here in the flesh was one of the heroines she had only known in the stories the elders told. Had her prayers reached Avatar Kyoshi after all? Still caught up in the surreal moment, it registered to Izumi that she was no longer in the shrine but rather surrounded by a dense misty jungle. Where was she? How had she gotten here?
‘I’m definitely dreaming,’ Izumi concluded.
“We are in the Spirit World,” Kyoshi said, as if she read the girl’s mind, refuting her assumption. “Few have crossed the mortal realm’s borders even through the deepest of meditations. I know your desire to be an ardent one, child, for you to have done so.”
Taking a deep breath, Izumi fought to keep her voice steady. "Then you must know exactly what I wish for. Please, Avatar Kyoshi, can you help me?”
But Kyoshi shook her head. “I cannot myself but there is a spirit who may be able to. But be warned, he is a dangerous being of ancient cunning. Few dare to meet him, and fewer still survive unscathed. His name is Koh, and only he can provide the answers you seek.”
She stepped closer, her tone sharpening as an indication for Izumi to pay serious attention. “Should you choose to speak with him, you must remember that he will prey on your emotions. If you so much as flinch, he will snatch your face as his trophy.”
Izumi gulped, a bead of perspiration dripping down her brow. She hesitated, but only briefly, swallowing her fear as best she could. “I’ll do it.”
Kyoshi regarded her a moment longer, before giving a solemn nod. With a wave of her fan, the landscape around Izumi melted away, replaced by a dim, cavernous expanse. The air here, damp and filled with an eerie silence, was even colder than when she was shivering in bed earlier. It didn’t take long for her to sense the ancient presence observing her from the shadows.
Koh’s deep slithering voice emerged. “I was wondering when you’d be coming, girl.”
“You’ve been expecting me?” Izumi asked.
“But, of course. I’ve been waiting years for this very day,” was the spirit’s mysterious reply. He crawled forward with a crafty smile on the face he wore. “Yet, you are a fool to think you can change what has already been set in stone.”
“Please tell me if there is a way. Is there even one?”
“Perhaps…” Koh replied, his face shifting to that of an old man’s. “You are evidently willing to find out and not let anything stop you. The real question is: are you also willing to pay the price?”
Izumi tried not to show any reaction. “What is the cost?”
Clearly taking enjoyment in playing mind games, Koh only leered hungrily at her. The silence wore on for a tortuously long time, as his face changed multiple times.
“Simply that the bitter truths you uncover along the way might be ones you regret unearthing,” Koh said at last.
He was keeping something from her. There was no way it could be just that. Or could it? What truths could Koh possibly mean? And if they were as heavy as he claimed them to be, was it worth the risk? Maybe this was a bad idea.
She could not do this. She’d return to her world and simply wait for her aunt or one of the Kyoshi Warriors to fetch her. Surely, they’d have won the battle by now…right?
But then her conscience pricked her. What if they hadn’t? What if all of them were dead, the island sacked and taken by the Bloodbending Queen’s forces? And what of the rest of the world? Were they all to continue this war for a hundred years like the one before?
Izumi was torn both ways by her tumultuous thoughts. She closed her eyes, recalling the happy features of her aunt’s smiling face. No…she couldn’t give up.
“I want to do this,” she said.
Koh let out a sinister laugh. “At last, Nobukazu’s curse is set in motion…”
Having no time to ask what the Face-Stealer meant, Izumi found the darkness around her shifting into an endless void of blinding light. The last thing she heard was Koh’s ominous voice wishing her good luck…
Every raised voice striking like a hammer within his skull, Fire Lord Zuko rubbed his aching temples. The throne room was buzzing with the low hum of discord, a cauldron of fraying tempers and mounting pressure. It was moments like this when he found his Grand Council more of a hassle than a help. For the past couple of hours, they had been primarily debating every facet of the upcoming Elemental Expo amongst other official matters of great importance. However, the discussion had long since sidetracked into accusations and squabbling just like any other meeting.
“Enough!” Zuko finally snapped, his voice cutting through the din like a blade. The hall stilled, save for the flames in front of his throne. He let out a controlled breath, smoke flaring from his nostrils. His uncle’s words echoed in his mind: A ruler must command respect without demanding it.
He turned to the older man seated closest to him, knowing him to be one of the kindest of his advisors. “Grand Secretary Kenzo, please summarize where we stand.”
Ever the picture of composed wisdom, Kenzo gave a reassuring smile, fully aware of Zuko’s frustration. “Of course, Your Majesty.”
Kenzo, his Uncle Iroh's brother-in-law, had been a constant presence in Zuko's life at court since his boyhood. Descended from the strong Fujiwara Clan, a cadet branch of the royal family, he was compelled to serve on Ozai's council. Despite this, Kenzo had remained outwardly neutral, secretly being a member of the White Lotus and informing his fellow society members with intelligence from the palace. Aside from his Uncle Iroh, Kenzo was the only other relative Zuko trusted completely.
The Grand Secretary adjusted his spectacles and cleared his throat. “As we prepare for the Elemental Expo, our key concerns are threefold: financial strain on the royal coffers, unresolved tensions between states, and ensuring security in the face of mounting dissent. For such an unprecedented endeavour as the Expo, it is natural that such a bold event brings concerns.”
“Our biggest affair should be the royal coffers,” Tatsunori, the Royal Treasurer, immediately declared. “Unity itself doesn’t justify indulging this extravagant cost on mere entertainment.”
His jewelled rings gleamed in the firelight as he made a dismissive motion. As one of the Fire Nation's wealthiest lords, he was a miserly man who had once been one of Ozai's most devoted followers. But Zuko, to his great annoyance, required powerful men like Tatsunori on his side. In the end, what saved Tatsunori from being expelled from the Grand Council was his affluent background.
“The royal treasury isn’t bottomless, Your Majesty,” Tatsunori continued. “We could be using our resources to bolster infrastructure rather than silly dancing troupes.”
Haishi Chow, the Minister of Education, bristled. She was an Earth Kingdom-born woman who worked her way up to being on Zuko’s council by passing all the imperial exams that he implemented. By introducing an exam system to promote based on merit rather than family rank or connections, Zuko managed to cut government spending a lot and increase efficiency. And as the first ruler ever to have a multicultural council, Zuko helped radically bolster the Fire Nation’s international relations. Despite strong opposition from nobles who held the same positions for generations, Zuko didn’t regret his choice especially with a woman like Haishi on his side.
Haishi argued, “The Expo isn’t just entertainment. It’s an opportunity to foster understanding, trade, and cultural exchange. The benefits outweigh the cost. The upcoming Elemental Expo has already created jobs and invigorated trade. For the first time in decades, common Fire Nation citizens are engaging with the wider world. You can’t put a price on that.”
“I can, and I do,” Tatsunori countered with a sneer. “You say the benefits outweigh the cost? Well, not if we bankrupt the Crown and state!”
Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’re not here to debate the Expo’s value. It’s happening. Focus on ensuring it succeeds.”
Across the table, Katara offered him a faint sympathetic smile. It was a small thing, but her quiet encouragement was a calm against the storm. Zuko managed a weak smile in return.
The moment was shattered by the entrance of a maid.
“What are you doing in here, woman?” Tatsunori demanded. “Why did the guards let you in? Don’t you know that this is an important meet—”
Iroh’s calm voice interrupted him. “Peace, my lord. I’m sure there’s a good reason.” He gave an encouraging smile to the young servant, who looked terrified from Tatsunori’s reprimanding. “What is it, my dear?”
Giving a hasty bow of her head, the maid answered, “Her Majesty, Fire Lady Mai, requests Princess Katara’s assistance. She is in great discomfort again.”
Katara stood up without question, saying apologetically, “If you’ll excuse me.”
Zuko gave her a reluctant nod. Regretful as he was for losing one supportive friend from the quarrelsome room, his concern for his wife outweighed it.
However, as she left, he caught Tatsunori’s scoff. The doors closing behind Katara, Tatsunori sniffed, “A minister who cannot even stay through a meeting and abandons her post for personal errands—how fitting.”
Hahn smirked. “It does reflect a certain…unreliability.”
Before Zuko could speak, Haru leaned forward. “Careful, Ambassador Hahn. Criticizing a healer, especially one as invaluable as Master Katara, reflects more on you than on her.”
His voice like stone grinding on stone, the Earth Kingdom ambassador then turned to Tatsunori adding, “Even more so as she is juggling both her job as Minister of Social Affairs and healing Fire Lady Mai who is carrying your nation’s future Fire Lord. Or have you forgotten?”
Zuko’s voice was ice. “Has everyone at this table forgotten decorum?”
Hahn inclined his head, though the sarcasm in his smile was unmistakable. “Of course not, Your Majesty. Our sincerest apologies.”
The room threatened to erupt again until Iroh’s soft cough silenced it. “Perhaps,” he began, his tone mild but commanding, “we might return to the matter at hand. It is not in our best interest to squander our time with petty squabbles. Let us perhaps put the topic of the Expo’s financial aspects aside for now and move on to the other details.”
Turning to his former jailkeeper, he said with a smile, “General Ming, you look like you have something you want to say in particular.”
Ming, now General of the entire Fire Nation Army and a quiet authority figure, stood forward to present her report. She was another individual who passed Zuko's imperial exam system, her intelligence unfortunately wasted as an ordinary prison warden throughout the Hundred Year War. Zuko eventually came to respect her for her quick wit and kindness to his uncle when he was imprisoned.
Ming's piercing eyes conveyed the gravity of her announcement. “As the Grand Secretary has previously expressed concerns about international tensions and security, I believe it is vital to advise you that our intelligence has detected rising militarization within the Northern Water Tribe. Their submarine fleet today competes with any navy in the world. This…complicates relations on the seas.”
Hahn crossed his arms, the ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. “Complications arise when others cannot keep up.”
Sokka scoffed, “Funny about how you claim others ‘cannot keep up’ when it’s the Southern Water Tribe’s ideas you’re exploiting. Those were my submarine designs you stole!”
Hahn’s eyes narrowed. “Stole? Those were gifted. Or are you implying the Northern Water Tribe cannot innovate?”
“You want to talk innovation?” Sokka shot back. “You’ve been too busy occupying the Southern Water Tribe to—”
“Ambassadors!” Zuko’s voice reverberated through the chamber, silencing both men. He turned to Ming. “Continue.”
“Their growing strength creates instability,” Ming said. “It’s not just the Southern Water Tribe feeling the pressure. Their dominance risks further alienating the Earth Kingdom.”
Haru nodded grimly. “Trade disputes with the Northern Water Tribe are already souring relations. It wouldn’t take much to push things into open hostility.”
The Earth Kingdom had, not too long ago, accused the Northern Water Tribe of hoarding resources critical to global recovery efforts, such as rare Arctic medicinal herbs, unique fish species, and glacial minerals. Resources vital for industries and agriculture across the Earth Kingdom, which was still rebuilding after the war.
In retaliation, the Earth Kingdom imposed severe tariffs on Northern Water Tribe exports, citing “economic fairness.” The Northern Water Tribe, however, viewed these tariffs as unjust and exploitative, designed to weaken their economy and keep them dependent on Earth Kingdom-controlled trade routes. Despite efforts at diplomacy, neither side was willing to compromise.
Haishi sighed. “This is precisely why the Expo matters. If we can foster goodwill—”
“Goodwill hardly calms the people,” Tatsunori snapped.
“No,” came a sharp voice cutting through the room. “But justice does.”
The council fell silent. Even Tatsunori seemed to hold his breath. Everyone turned their heads to the two people who had not spoken the entire time, Ukano and Michi, Mai’s parents. Zuko had to restrain himself from letting out a heavy audible sigh. He knew what was coming next.
Michi met Zuko’s gaze. “Your Majesty, it has been five years since the war ended. The world still demands retribution for the crimes of Ozai and the Princess Azula. How much longer can we delay? With the approach of the Expo, executing them would show the world that the Fire Nation truly repents.”
Zuko’s jaw tightened. This argument again? “Aang spared my father’s life. I won’t undo that decision.”
“And the princess?” Michi pressed. “She’s no longer a child, Your Majesty. She is a dangerous woman who—”
“She’s my sister,” Zuko interrupted. “Her actions were monstrous, yes. But she’s also a victim of our father’s cruelty and manipulation. Executing her won’t bring peace. It’ll just deepen the wounds and perpetuate the cycle of vengeance.”
Michi’s voice was steely. “Your compassion does you credit, Your Majesty. But not everyone shares your principles. Your morality, while admirable, is also dangerously predictable. As a ruler, you must sometimes set it aside for the good of the realm. Sometimes difficult choices are necessary for the greater good.”
Haru spoke up, his voice steady. “If we start executing those we consider dangerous, where does it end? We risk becoming what we claim to oppose.”
Hahn scoffed. “Spoken like someone who doesn’t understand the stakes.”
Sokka’s fist hit the table. “Watch your mouth.”
“Or what?” Hahn sneered.
The air in the room grew charged as Sokka’s fists clenched, but Iroh’s calm voice broke in before he could retort. “That’s enough,” the old general said. “The past will not be rewritten here. Fire Lord Zuko, I think it best that we cut this meeting short. It appears that we are all too on edge to stay focused on the task at hand.”
Zuko gave a nod before curtly saying, “Dismissed.”
He, Iroh, and Sokka lingered near the large, ornate doors after the heated council meeting.
Sokka rolled his eyes. “Man, does anyone in that room know how to not be rude? It’s like they’re competing for a trophy in passive-aggressive sniping.”
Rubbing his temples, Zuko said, “This Cold War that all the nations are locked in is starting to spiral out of control. I can feel it—tensions rising, alliances cracking… And these council meetings don’t help.”
He recalled how there was a rebellion where some people of the Northern Water Tribe dumped a whole shipment of Earth Kingdom tea in protest of the tariffs. The news made his Uncle Iroh just about cry.
His calm demeanour a soothing contrast to the heated discussion earlier, Iroh gave a warm smile. “Patience, nephew. The burden of leadership is heavy, but it is not one you bear alone.”
“I don’t know what I’d do without people like you, Uncle—and you too, Sokka. You guys, along with Katara, are the ones who actually know me.”
Sokka threw an arm over Zuko’s shoulders. “Hey, anything for you, man.” Then, with a waggish grin, he joked, “Besides, you know I only signed up to be my tribe’s ambassador because Suki’s stationed here.”
“And here I thought it was my magnetic personality,” Zuko joked, smirking.
Kenzo approached with a respectful bow. “Your Majesty, if I may have a word in private?”
Zuko exchanged a glance with Sokka and Iroh, who took the hint by leaving the Fire Lord alone with his Grand Secretary.
Kenzo’s hushed voice was earnest. “I must warn you—be careful not to estrange Lady Michi.”
“Michi? Why would I—”
“With Your Majesty’s permission, may I speak freely?”
“Go ahead.”
Kenzo’s voice lowered even more. “I say this not only as your advisor but also as your uncle. Michi is a formidable ally, but if slighted, she could become a powerful adversary. You must tread carefully. Not just because she and Ukano belong to one of the most influential families in the Fire Nation, but also because of her unwavering loyalty to her daughter—your wife.”
“I know she’s on my side,” Zuko defensively said. “She accepted being my Minister of Justice, didn’t she?”
Kenzo gave a knowing look. “Be that as it may, Lady Michi’s acceptance was driven by necessity, not desire. She despises politics, but she took the position to protect Fire Lady Mai. A nobleman—a known Ozai loyalist—plotted to assassinate your wife to elevate his own daughter to your side on the Dragon Throne.”
“And she didn’t tell me this?” Zuko asked in disbelief.
“She handled it quietly, as is her way. Since then, she has worked tirelessly to root out corruption and protect the realm, but she does not see you as battle-hardened in court matters. Michi and Ukano, for all their disagreements, both think you’re too…idealistic.”
Zuko’s nostrils flared. “I’ve been through enough to know what I’m doing.”
“Your exile kept you away from the worst of the court’s corruption. Even now, you’ve only scratched the surface of the deceit that lingers. I am an old man, Your Majesty. I have lived through treacherous times, and I have barely escaped the schemes of others—the plotting, the lies, the false smiles that hide daggers.”
Zuko sighed. “I’ll keep what you’ve said in mind, Uncle Kenzo. Thank you.”
With a deep bow, Kenzo departed, leaving Zuko to stand in silence, his expression a mix of frustration and contemplation.
“Are you still feeling uncomfortable?” Katara asked softly, her voice steady but warm. Her hands glowed faintly with healing water as she hovered them over Mai’s swollen belly.
Her dark eyes half-lidded, Mai blinked slowly. “No, I’m good. Thanks, Katara,” she murmured. “Not that it would take much to feel better than I have these past few months.” Her tone was dry, but Katara caught the subtle tremor in her voice, betraying her exhaustion.
A tap at the door drew their attention to Zuko, who was peeping warily in. Receiving a beckoning wave from his wife’s hand, he took a seat nearby, his golden eyes never leaving Mai. His presence was a comfort to his wife, Katara knew, even if neither of them said it out loud.
“The baby’s strong,” Katara said, glancing up at Zuko. “Mai’s condition is stable for now. The worst of her discomfort should ease after this.”
Zuko breathed a sigh of relief he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Thank you, Katara.”
Katara smiled faintly, though his gratitude felt heavy. She knew how much Zuko and Mai had endured to reach this point. The previous miscarriages had devastated them both, leaving scars that Katara could sense even if they rarely spoke of them. This child was their hope, but it came with so much fear.
Mai shifted slightly, her voice breaking the silence. “I know you mean well, Zuko, but you don’t have to hover like that. It’s not as if I’m going to fall apart the moment you look away.”
Zuko straightened, his voice taking on a defensive tone. “I’m just—”
“Worrying,” Mai finished, her lips curving into a faint smile. “It’s sweet, really, but you’re going to give yourself grey hair before the baby even arrives.”
Katara chuckled softly, the warmth of their banter easing the tension in the room. “I think a little grey would suit him,” she teased, earning a rare smirk from Mai and a half-hearted glare from Zuko.
As the glow of her healing faded, Katara sat back, letting the water flow back into the bowl beside her. “That should do for now. Mai, you need to rest as much as possible. Zuko,” she added, fixing him with a firm look, “make sure she listens.”
Mai raised an eyebrow. “Are you taking his side now?”
“I’m taking the baby’s side,” Katara countered. “And your health.”
Allowing Mai to shut her eyes briefly, Katara positioned herself beside Zuko, who had stepped over to the balcony, gazing at the gardens. The pleasant breeze provided a nice respite from the day’s heat. The Fire Lord’s expression was softer now but still lined with worry.
Keeping his voice low so only Katara could hear, Zuko said, “I wanted to thank you again. I know this…isn’t easy for you.”
Katara tilted her head. “What do you mean?”
He hesitated, as if choosing his words carefully. “I know you’ve been through a lot lately. With Aang. And everything else. You didn’t have to come here, but you did. Mai and I…we’re lucky to have you.”
Katara crossed her arms, looking out over the lush gardens. “I couldn’t say no, Zuko. You’re my friend. And Mai needed help. It’s as simple as that.”
Zuko’s brow furrowed. “Still. You’ve done more than I could have asked for. I don’t know if I could’ve gotten through these months without you.”
There was a weight to his words that made Katara glance at him. She could see the strain in his posture, the guilt he carried for not being able to protect Mai from everything they had endured. She reached out, touching his arm lightly. “Zuko, you’re doing everything you can. Mai knows that.”
His lips pressed into a thin line, but he nodded. “I just…I’m afraid, Katara.”
“And it’s okay to be,” she soothed.
They stood in silence for a bit, both pondering over each other’s comforting words. Katara’s thoughts couldn’t help turning, as they often did, to Aang. For years, they had been inseparable, travelling the world and rebuilding what the war had torn apart. He had always been her beacon of hope, the boy who inspired her with his boundless optimism.
And yet, now that they had settled into peacetime, Katara felt something shifting. She still loved Aang, but the life they shared had begun to feel…narrow. She couldn’t help feeling as though there could be more for her. Aang’s role as the Avatar consumed him, and while Katara admired his dedication, it often left her feeling like an accessory to his greatness rather than a partner.
Katara shook her head. Why should she be feeling any dissatisfaction? She was the Avatar’s girl, a master waterbender, and more recently, Princess of the Southern Water Tribe ever since her father was proclaimed as Chief of the entire tribe. Dating Aang should have made sense. He saved the world, and every hero eventually got the girl, right? Katara played her role of being the caring and dutiful girlfriend, by being by his side no matter where they went, cooking and cleaning just like when they travelled with their friends.
And yet, whenever they travelled, people would throng to him, calling out his name, marvelling at the Avatar’s wisdom. Katara, even with her masterful waterbending and leadership, was frequently consigned to the background. In the rare instances, a few well-meaning admirers might comment, “Oh, and that’s Katara, the Avatar’s girlfriend, isn’t she amazing?” But it was clear that, to many, she was defined by her proximity to Aang, not her own achievements. She was overshadowed by him, relegated to the backseat and only mentioned as an afterthought. Even when she did help, it was Aang who people would praise for it, getting all the credit. Katara was not ignorant of how many people viewed her as inferior, comparing her to Aang and saying that she wasn’t as powerful or wise. And whenever she spoke out in protest, many dismissed her outcries as coming from vanity and a bruised ego—which, Katara begrudgingly resigned, wasn’t entirely wrong. Amidst everyone’s deafening praise of Aang, Katara’s voice was simply drowned out.
She had tried to voice these feelings to Aang multiple times, but he hadn’t understood. “Katara, you’re incredible. Why would you feel like this? You’re a hero too!” he had said once, his tone full of baffled affection.
But it wasn’t about recognition; it was about identity. She had fought so hard to carve out a place for herself in the world, and yet now, she felt like she was disappearing.
Her recent arguments with Aang had only deepened the rift. So, when Zuko wrote to ask for her help with Mai’s condition, Katara had seen it as both an opportunity and an escape. Aang had protested, of course. “Katara, I need you with me. We’re supposed to be a team.”
She had snapped back, uncharacteristically sharp. “Aang, I’ve been by your side for years. Surely you can spare me for a couple of months or so and let me do this! This isn’t just about you.”
The hurt in his eyes had haunted her, but she couldn’t ignore her own needs anymore.
And besides, the role Zuko had also offered her as Minister of Social Affairs had been an unexpected blessing. At first, she worried she wasn’t qualified, but Zuko had been adamant. “Katara, you’ve worked with people from every nation. You understand their struggles and their hopes better than anyone I know.”
The position allowed her to address the lingering wounds of the Hundred Year War in a way she found deeply fulfilling. She spearheaded initiatives to rebuild communities, foster cultural exchanges, and create opportunities for the underprivileged.
Already, she’d shown the people that she cared for them and easily won their hearts for her compassion and tenacity. She brought about the openings of new family-owned shops to help households support themselves in the long term and promote commerce and trade. She’d even been learning about the Fire Nation culture and started picking up some of their dialect. She wasn’t just the Avatar’s girlfriend here; she was Katara, a leader in her own right. Normally, the stuff Katara was doing would have been the Fire Lady’s responsibility, but Mai’s recent health wouldn’t have allowed it.
It wasn’t all smooth sailing, of course. The Fire Nation’s aristocracy bristled at her presence. To them, she was an outsider, a Water Tribe peasant with no place in their halls of power. “A pet project of the Fire Lord,” one noblewoman had sneered at a formal dinner, loud enough for Katara to hear.
Instead of letting the comment rattle her, Katara had smiled coolly and responded, “If by ‘pet project,’ you mean helping the people you’ve neglected for years, then yes, that’s exactly what I am.”
Her position also came with weighty responsibilities. The proposal she and Minister Haishi Chow had crafted to promote intercultural education was one of her proudest achievements, but it had met fierce resistance. The Cold War brewing between the nations made any collaboration fraught. Leaders in the Northern Water Tribe accused her of being a traitor to her people, while conservative Fire Nation officials claimed she was meddling in affairs she didn’t understand.
Still, Katara relished the challenge. For the first time in years, she felt like she was standing on her own two feet, making a tangible difference. The work was exhausting, but it filled a void she hadn’t even realized was there.
The smile that was on Katara’s face in remembrance of these blessings faded once she looked back at Mai and had a second glance at her pallor. Hurrying over, she wiped a cool cloth across Mai's brow, the Fire Lady's pale face contrasting sharply with her raven hair. Despite her calm exterior, Katara could sense Mai's discomfort, though the woman refused to admit it outright.
“You're sure you want to go?” Katara asked gently, her voice tinged with concern. “No one would blame you if you stayed back. They all know how hard this has been.”
Mai’s sharp eyes opened and softened slightly as she looked at Katara. “It’s not about blame. It’s about expectation. Besides,” she said, forcing a faint smirk, “you’ve practically been doing all my work for me and the opening ceremony is for a new hospital. It’s only fitting for a Fire Lady to make an appearance.”
Zuko stepped closer with his characteristic urgency, his golden gaze scanning Mai as if checking for signs of distress. “Are you sure about this, Mai? I don’t want you pushing yourself.”
“Zuko,” Mai replied with exasperation, “I’m pregnant, not porcelain. Katara’s here if anything happens, and I’m not about to collapse from standing around for a couple of hours.”
Katara raised her hands in mock surrender when Zuko’s worried gaze shifted to her. “She’s stable,” she assured him. “I’ll be by her side the whole time.”
The exchange was interrupted by Ty Lee, Sokka, and Suki’s entrance. Sokka was already halfway through a snack he had secretly swiped from the food meant for the upcoming celebratory buffet. “How’s the patient?” he asked around a mouthful of food.
Suki rolled her eyes, swatting at his arm. “Honestly, Sokka, I keep telling you that you’ll choke if you keep doing that.”
Mai arched an eyebrow but said nothing, while Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose. “Mai’s fine,” Katara said, smiling despite herself. “But the real question is, how many snacks do you think are left for the hospital opening?”
Sokka pointed dramatically toward the door. “That’s exactly what I’ve been saying! If we don’t get going soon, the Fire Nation’s finest finger foods will be gone, and I’m not letting that happen on my watch.”
The group’s laughter eased the tension in the room, but Ty Lee’s hesitant voice brought it back. “Um…is Azula coming too?”
The silence was immediate. All eyes shifted to Zuko, who stiffened. “No,” he said curtly. “She doesn’t want to.”
There was no room for further discussion in his tone, and the group fell quiet again.
Ty Lee gave a small sad smile saying, “It’s okay. I’ll stay here and keep her company.”
Sokka, ever the master of comedic timing, broke it as they headed for the door. “Let’s get a move on, people. The food won’t wait for us forever!”
Crowds pressed closely together in the Western Square of Caldera City, buzzing with lively conversation, as some visitors rose on their toes to get a good view of the ribbon-cutting event for the newly built hospital. Team Avatar had gathered near the stage, sharing stories and laughter. Although the Elemental Expo was set to take place in around three weeks, Aang and Toph decided to arrive early to support Katara and Zuko in the inauguration of the hospital. Despite their extensive correspondence through letters, the depth of their feelings was something that could only be truly conveyed in person.
“It’s good to see you all in one place again,” Sokka said, hugging first Aang and then Toph. “Even the Avatar can’t write letters fast enough to keep up with me.”
“Yeah, cause from what everyone else tells me, your letters are mostly doodles of boomerangs,” Toph quipped, leaning casually against a pillar. “But hey, I’m impressed you didn’t lose the letters I sent.”
“Letters? More like scribbles,” Sokka shot back with a grin.
Aang smiled warmly at the group. “It’s been too long since we’ve all been together like this.”
Katara stood beside Zuko and Mai at the centre of the stage, her heart lightened by the warmth of her friends’ presence. Zuko, in particular, was looking at her with pride. The opening of the hospital had been her idea after all, along with a system of free healthcare for all Fire Nation citizens. It was to be a celebration of progress and unity, a symbol of hope after years of healing from war. Zuko handed her the ceremonial scissors, his fingers brushing hers briefly.
“Ready?” he asked, his voice low enough that only she could hear.
“Always,” she replied, meeting his golden gaze. They moved to the ribbon together, a moment of shared triumph.
But as Katara raised the scissors, a faint cry echoed in her mind. A child’s voice—distant, mournful—filled her ears. She froze, her breath hitching. The sound was achingly familiar, though she couldn’t place why. Her chest tightened with a sadness she couldn’t explain.
“Katara?” Zuko’s voice brought her back. He was watching her, concerned.
Before she could respond, a blinding light split the air above them. Gasps erupted from the crowd as a swirling portal materialized in the sky, glowing with ethereal energy. Wind whipped through the plaza, and everyone shielded their eyes as a small figure tumbled through the portal.
The girl landed on Katara, the impact knocking her into Zuko. The scissors clattered to the ground, forgotten. Katara blinked, startled, as she found herself pressed against Zuko’s chest. Both of them turned crimson as they scrambled to separate.
“Uh…sorry,” Katara muttered, brushing herself off.
“Right,” Zuko replied, looking anywhere but at her.
The girl, meanwhile, pushed herself up, her expression frantic. She looked about her, overwhelmed by the massive crowds around her and the unfamiliar environment, her golden eyes getting wider every second.
“W-Where am I?” she demanded, her voice urgent and shaking.
His boomerang already waving in his hand, Sokka looked more freaked out than her. “D-Did any of you see that?! The sky literally pooped that kid out!”
Katara, Toph, and Zuko smacked their foreheads.
Aang immediately took charge, adopting as gentle and friendly a voice he could with the unknown child. “It’s okay. There’s no need to be scared. What’s your name?”
Gawking once she caught sight of him, the young girl stammered out her reply. “I-Izumi. My name is Izumi. Y-You’re—”
“I’m Aang.”
“Aang…as in Avatar Aang? Then…this isn’t a dream. I’ve really been sent back…I can actually change—”
Her inane ramblings were interrupted by Sokka exclaiming, “Can someone please tell me what’s going on?”
Her voice urgent and shaking, Izumi asked, “This must be the Fire Nation, right? What year is it?”
When she was told, her face paled. However, whatever explanation Sokka and everyone else were impatient for, they certainly hadn’t anticipated the words Izumi said next.
“I need to warn you—another war is coming in twenty-five years.”
One could almost hear a pin drop. Then, the murmurs started to rise in disbelief, most of them with a mocking tone.
“Izumi,” Aang said gently, stepping forward, “you must be mistaken. The nations are working toward peace—”
“She’s not lying,” Toph interrupted, her voice cutting through the noise like a blade. The public square fell silent once more. Even without raising her voice, the earthbender’s words carried absolute conviction.
Sokka muttered, “Great. Just what we need—another ominous prophecy.”
Her maternal instincts overriding her confusion, Katara knelt until she was eye-level with Izumi. “How do you know about this war?”
Izumi’s hands trembled as she clutched Katara’s arm. “Because I come from the future. I saw it with my own eyes. The one who starts the war…they call her the Bloodbending Queen. And if she isn’t stopped, she’ll destroy everything.”
The words Katara planned to say felt like sand in her mouth at the mention of the dark art. “Why are you telling us this? Why come to us?”
Sokka gestured wildly to Aang. “Hello? Almighty peacemaking Avatar here? He’ll save the day, yada yada yada.”
But Izumi shook her head. She hesitated, her gaze darting to Zuko and Katara. “No…the resistance against the Bloodbending Queen isn’t led by the Avatar. It’s led by Fire Lord Zuko…and Fire Lady Katara.”