Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Iroh begged the young teen to rest. Zuko had just been banished by his own father, and was still recovering from a twisted dance of second and third degree burns forced upon the left side of his face. He barely slept or ate, and only spoke of "The Avatar... The Avatar... The Avatar..."

Iroh’s heart broke for the boy. No matter how many times he tried to persuade his nephew into taking a break, he wouldn’t let up. After searching every inch of the Eastern Air Temples, the crew had found places to sleep before boarding the boat the next morning. They would have been forced to leave the port then and there if it hadn’t been for that glorious, ever-so blinding fog that wrapped all around every exit from the bay.

Iroh was glad that there were soft, though dusty and slightly disintegrated, beds at the temples. Choosing a room not so far from his hot-headed nephew, he let himself drift off to sleep.

Only a few minutes into his rest, Iroh had finally put together just why the others had chosen rooms so far from the boy. Loud grunts and bursts of fire sounded from outside of his bedroom, making him peek out to see what was going on. Iroh knew it couldn’t have been a fight, as the sounds only came from one source. Without much surprise, the tired uncle had found his nephew training by himself in an open space outside their quarters.

“Prince Zuko…” Iroh groaned, stepping toward the boy slowly. Zuko’s back was turned away from Iroh as he fought the invisible enemy, breath rough and jagged. “You are exhausting yourself. How can you expect to defend yourself if you don’t take a break to eat or sleep?” Unlike before, Iroh’s comments weren’t followed by yelling or eye-rolling or crude insults. It was like Zuko didn’t notice him at all as he made another strike in front of him.

The flames were getting weak, becoming more of smoke than fire. The teen's breathing was growing less of exerted pants and now a panicked hyperventilation. Eventually, fireball after fireball after fireball, he was only shooting out puffs of smoke. “PRINCE ZUKO!” Iroh shouted, trying to snap the kid out of whatever fit he was having. As he ran to face the front of him, he caught a stomach-twisting expression on his face. The one exposed eye was as wide as it had ever been, pupil’s constricted and face deep red- drenched in tears running down his good eye and nostrils. Zuko tried to breathe in through his nose but made a struggled, congested sniffling sound instead. Alas, he dropped to his knees and started to silently sob.

Iroh was just as quick to meet him to the floor, feeling his forehead and checking his face and body for any sign of injury. Iroh knew the injury was mental -while the only obvious physical injury was already secure under a bandage- even so, his paternal instincts seemed to make him do his rundown from deep muscle memory. “I’m here, Zuko.” Iroh reassured, “I’m here and you’re safe here.”

Zuko didn’t flinch away from his comforting touch like he usually did, instead staying frozen like a startled animal. “I’m weak.” Zuko muttered, humming with every panicked exhale. “You’re going to make yourself faint, Nephew. Breathe slowly.” Iroh tried to give the simplest form instructions, breathing deep and slow as an example for him to follow along to. Of course, Zuko didn’t listen or even attempt to snap out of it. “I’m gonna die out here.” Zuko added, now reaching out aimlessly with his hand. Though his uncle didn’t know it before now, Zuko’s tears had made him more blind than he was already -barely- used to. “Shhhhh… I will not let that happen, Prince Zuko.” Iroh spoke softly as he placed a familiar hand on the one reached out, and another on the un-wounded side of his face. He used his thumb to try and wipe some tears away. “...Promise?” Zuko hitched, knowing it was his trusted Uncle even in a state like this. Iroh smiled, trying to not take pleasure at the sight of his nephew being so hurt but rather with his guard down. No strong man can go through life without vulnerabilities. It is vulnerabilities that makes a man strong. “I promise, sweet nephew. You will always be protected with me... Understood? Now- let’s get up from this hard floor, it’s time you get some sleep.” Iroh tried to usher the boy up except Zuko just grew half-lidded and swayed around a bit before falling forward into his uncle’s arms.

It seemed in a matter of seconds Zuko’s breathing went from chaotic to deep and steady, just a hair from snoring. Iroh chuckled, patting the boy on the back and heaving the boy up enough to manage carrying him a few feet at a time before finally making it to the closest room with a bed. To their luck, the room had a second bed across from it for him to keep extra surveillance on his poor nephew.

Iroh had expected Zuko to wake only after a couple of hours like he had been all week, and thank Agni, this was not the case. With very short and dazed periods of his waking, drinking water, and falling back asleep, Zuko slept for five long days. The crew was overjoyed, and though Iroh also found relief in the boy’s rest, it was more bittersweet during his caretaking.

In his sleep, Zuko would mumble about his mother, sometimes happily and sometimes with pained grief. He would argue with Azula and even worse, beg his father for mercy. When ‘awake,’ he would sometimes get up and hug Iroh deliriously while mumbling ”Father’s going to burn me,” “Please don’t leave me,” “I need you,” “I’m sorry,” or even a quiet “I love you, Uncle.”

Iroh would not bring these comments up to Zuko when he was fully awake. In fact, he fully planned on not telling him that he was even asleep for so long and would just wait until he noticed an odd skip in the calendar and blame it on the sea’s mind tricks.

Though his sleep was not perfect after such an episode, Zuko did begin to fall back into a better schedule. He’d be too embarrassed to ever bring it up to his uncle any time soon, but he did keep vague memories of that night. Most importantly, he recalled his uncle promising he’d protect him- and that he did.

Chapter Text

Zuko was practically raised on being ridiculed. Well, at least since Azula could talk and Zuko could actually understand the words Ozai was saying. Even though he was always hurt by these comments, he quickly found ways to prevent himself from giving in or even worse- crying.

Usually, children grew out of crying and built a stronger wall over time. Zuko was sixteen now and he had taken jabs from people three times his age without shedding a tear due to his rage forming a shield for him- so he'd usually have no issues leaving tears out of the conversation.

Yet, things are different now. The rage that kept his eyes dry and wails silent has turned into pitiful ash. He had grown soft, shoulders standing less stiff and overly-worked muscles faded and malnourished. Worse than that, the loss of his old self had started to take a toll on his bending.

He knew Katara had every right to be angry with him. She and everyone else there had every right to be angry at anyone who has helped the fire nation. He wasn’t going to beg her for forgiveness or even understanding… but he did really, really wish she would at least leave him alone. Though he knows just how painful the silent treatment can be, silence sounded so much better than what she was giving him now.

Zuko was never really good with socializing. Not with his enemies, not with people who were on his side, and not even with people in his own family- which consisted of an estranged mix of both. Maybe it was the built-up insecurities his sister threw upon him or the lack of social interaction he had growing up, but he just couldn't figure out how he could use the exact same words as his very sociable uncle and not get the same reactions. He had never been in this position before- having to win over people by his commentary and personality. As a child he could argue with Azula and the only people who would get them in trouble were his parents. On the ship he could say whatever he wanted and the crew would have to listen no matter what. His uncle would include him and love him no matter how grouchy or happy he was- he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about his uncle and how badly he wished he could be here to help him.

Perhaps if his uncle were here, he could teach Aang to firebend and Zuko could just spend time with his uncle when they weren’t training. Or maybe everyone here would like Zuko more if he was associated with his uncle- someone they would like. Maybe his uncle could explain to him why his firebending was disappearing.

Zuko sat further from everyone else in the group, fiddling with the small Feng Shui bracelet his uncle gifted him for his sixteenth birthday. He’d had it kept around his ankle instead, in fear that it would be easily stolen if around his wrist. His eyes were fixed at the two dragon charms, questioning the bracelet’s -now anklet’s- luck.

“Oh so now you’re just going to ignore me?” Katara spoke up, and Zuko shot his head up to see who she was talking to. To no surprise, it was him. Her eyes burned into his, as if she was trying to make a scar on the other half of his face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.” Zuko responded blandly, exhausted by trying to please her.

She faked a curt laugh, “Sure, play dumb why don’t you. I’m literally sitting three feet from you.” Don’t say it, Zuko- He thought, but it just slipped from his mouth- “Yeah- It's because I’m completely deaf in that ear!” And… you said it. Way to play the victim, buddy.

Zuko couldn’t seem to look up, but he knew they were all staring at him. “Oh.” Katara replied, a bit embarrassed but not necessarily guilty. Zuko was about to ask her to repeat herself, but he chose to keep silent- as did she. They awkwardly tried to continue the conversation without either of them, making the remainder of dinner excruciating for the two.

Another day had passed and that awkward experience wasn’t enough to make Katara distance herself any amount. She took the plate of food he was about to grab, she dropped old books near his door when he was trying to nap, and she managed to hide away the water from the washing fountain when it was his turn to use it.

Zuko tried to keep his head up, and he did for a long while.

It was getting dark and everyone was wanting a fire started since the night was growing too chilly even with blankets. Zuko ushered Aang to at least try and start the fire himself, but after multiple unsuccessful tries, Katara chipped in.

“Maybe if you would have brought someone useful like your uncle he would be firebending by now.”

Zuko swallowed hard, eyes burning a bit. -Is she waterbending tears out from my eyes? I cannot be crying right now- he thought, trying to remain still and calm.

“Ouch.” Toph cringed, and Aang gave her a disappointed look. “Not cool, Katara.” “What? It’s true! It’s been days and he’s barely taught you anything! It was always him trying to kill us, not Iroh!” She exclaimed in defense and embarrassment at her friend’s disapproval. Zuko looked down in an attempt to hide his face, but Toph felt the vibration of a very small drop of water hit the floor. “Aw hey, don’t cry! She’s just got a stick up her-” “-I’m NOT crying!!!” Zuko interrupted the Toph with an obvious voice crack as he shot up, storming away to his own private space.

“He’s really sensitive about his uncle.” Aang explained softly, standing up. Before he went to follow him, Katara hopelessly swung her arms out. “Well he got him thrown in prison, didn’t he?! Why didn’t he just go searching for him first if he 'loved' him so much?!” “Because he really does want to help teach me fire bending. We’re running out of time, and you ridiculing him isn’t going to help change the past.” Aang said, turning and walking down the temple’s halls.

…

“...Zuko?” Aang’s soft voice sounded at the other side of Zuko’s door, and the banished prince questioned if he should even answer. Another knock appeared moments later, as he probably knew Zuko was far from being asleep already. Even though Zuko gave no welcome, the avatar slid the door open anyway. Perhaps it was because the door was not locked, and Zuko always liked to lock his door behind him. Without his knowledge, he must have left it unlocked on purpose in order to get help if it were to come his way. This is what he used to do as a child with his mother and back at the ship, when he wanted his uncle to check on him. Even on nights where he didn’t want to talk and just faked being in a deep sleep, it was still nice to feel his uncle tuck him in better with his blanket and pat his back before wishing him a goodnight.

“Sorry, I’m coming in. I want to make sure you’re okay” Aang whispered, watching Zuko lay face-down on his bed in shame. He insisted “I’m fine, just tired. Go back to the others.” But Aang was no fool and he could hear his stuffy voice. “I can tell when you’re lying.” Aang tried to say playfully, but Zuko surely didn’t find it playful at all.

Aang looked around the room, seeing a plaque with Iroh’s face painted on it. It looked similar to the one’s on the wanted posters. He smiled, walked over, and picked it up. “I’m sure he’d be very proud of you for coming here, especially all by yourself.” Zuko looked up from his tear-soaked pillow, not sure if he should yell at him for picking up his precious portrait of his uncle, or actually talk with the kid.

“We were here once… A few years ago. He told me I’d find my own destiny someday… that used to piss me off so bad.” Zuko gave a weak chuckle, and Aang laughed along with him.

“...But he knew it. He always knows. I just don’t know if he particularly knows this instant. I mean- I always ran back to him. I don’t understand it. I could be on my best behavior and I swear it’s like the rest of my family would have my head but with him I could just yell at his face and insult him and never listen to him but he just… kept caring for me. I don’t understand…” Aang listened carefully as he sat on the floor, watching the teenager start to cry a bit harder “How can people be so different? Why does he love me when so many other people didn’t? Why are some children loved by their parents and others aren’t? And why did I lose the parent who loved me when the world would have been better if he disappeared instead? I’ve seen good people lose their parents even when they didn’t do anything wrong they just… existed. I don’t understand it. My father was raised in a palace, having nothing done wrong to him ever... and he’s just… evil! How? My uncle was raised in the same place by the same people and he’s so different! How?!” Zuko cried as he avoided eye contact but didn’t necessarily hide his face anymore.

Aang gave a sad smile and said “I’ve been trying to understand that for awhile too, buddy. I don’t think anyone will ever fully understand it.” But he knew Zuko wasn’t particularly asking for answers, just someone to talk to. “I’m glad you’ve changed. He will be too.” He added as he set Iroh’s picture back down. Zuko gave back a sheepish smile, mouthing “thanks” to the boy. Aang thought he looked awfully tired.

“Well… I’ll leave you alone. I’ll try and talk to Katara.” Aang said as he turned around to leave, but Zuko shot up to protest “No! Please don’t, I… I don’t want her to know I’m this upset.” Aang cocked an eyebrow, “But… you are upset?” “Sure but… I don’t want to look weaker than I already just did tonight. I also think she and I just need space from all of this.” Zuko pleaded, and though he didn’t fully agree with this mindset, Aang promised anyways. “Sure thing, Zuko. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You too.” He smiled back, then turned over to try to go to sleep.

He felt a memory flash by of him in a similar bed, where he was a bit younger than he was now. He felt a warm hand rub soothing circles into his back, lifting him up to bring a cup to his lips. “Drink some more water, nephew… Then go back to sleep.” “...Okay, Uncle…” Zuko sighed from exhaustion. “I love you.” His uncle was silent for a second, then he went back to rubbing his back. “I love you too, sweet nephew. Always.”

Chapter Text

It was odd, he barely called his biological father “Dad” to his face. It was usually “father,” but a casual “Dad” when referring to him during conversations with his mother and annoying little sister. After his mom left, he said such a word even less so.

At least, when talking about Ozai.

The first time Zuko accidentally called his uncle -more or less his surrogate father- “Dad” was a few months into being banished in the lounging area. His uncle was bothering him per usual, singing a tune whilst he tried to construct a new route in peace. His map was too big to take into his room, and he really needed that large table’s surface area. “Would you cut that out?!” The thirteen-year-old shouted, growling in frustration under his breath. “Music is good for focus, Prince Zuko!” his uncle assured him, continuing with his songs as he unknowingly serenaded the men outside- lyrics drifting out the open window.

”Stop it.”

“A little autumn, a little autumn!♪”

”Quit! It!!”

“The strained ears faintly heard!♪”

"ENOUGH!"

“Somebody, somebody!♪”

"DAD!!!- un-UNCle…" his voice cracked as his face blushed a deep red. He shut his eyes tight in humiliation, trying not to look at his dad uncle.

Iroh halted his song, and stared at his nephew with wide eyes and lips tucked away as he tried not to smile or possibly even laugh at the boy. Iroh thought it was very sweet, but he knew his nephew must have been mortified as even the crew must have heard the word leave his mouth and echo for way too long across the entire ship. Iroh wanted to get up and give his nephew a big hug, assuring him that he was his ‘son’ too. What a joy it was to be called such a word again after so many years... as much as one would love to address it, Iroh knew better.

“...A little autumn! a little autumn!!♪” Iroh continued, making Zuko slam his fists on the table with a loud “GRRAAHH!!!” as pens and pins flew everywhere. Not a second passed before he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

“Jeez- teenagers, am I right?” Iroh jokes back towards the men outside the window.

Even if he would never admit it, Zuko was very thankful his uncle had decided to ignore it. He would drown in embarrassment if Iroh were to have celebrated such a moment, but it would also tear him into a million pieces if Iroh were to laugh.

Most days Iroh would fully enter Zuko’s room to wish him a short “good night” or even a small pep talk in hopes to leave his nephew's day on a less lonely note, but some nights were much more casual. This was one of those nights, where Iroh just double tapped at the metal door with a quick “Sweet dreams, Son!”

“Whatever!” Zuko shouted back, fighting back a very quick, very secret, very nervous, smile.

__________________________________________________________________

Another time was when Zuko was sick from food poisoning. Iroh warned Zuko not to leave his food out for too long, especially if it was meat. Zuko, of course, didn’t listen.

He had scarfed down his roast duck that he brought to his room from lunch, starving from not eating all day. The meat was cold but tasted the same as it always had before, so how could there be any issue? With confidence and a full stomach, Zuko marched into the strategy room to discuss the new route with the helmsman. Only minutes into his small meeting, his stomach churned. The swaying of the ship certainly didn’t help either, making the sudden heat in the back of his neck burn harder.

“Are you alright, Prince Zuko?” The helmsman asked, and another crewmember looked over to examine the boy. “Sure…” Zuko said uncertainly, shutting his eyes tight. The other crewmember took notice at the green hue his face held before opening one of the windows and subtly guiding Zuko over the edge. Thank Agni for that fast reaction, otherwise there would have been a huge mess over their entire map.

“Should I fetch the medic?” The helmsman offered, while Zuko just heaved and groaned. The prince muttered something, but the men couldn’t make out what he was saying. “What was that, Prince Zuko?” “-Get my dad!!!” The poor boy hollered out, overwhelmed with deep, stabbing stomach pain. The men blinked at each other in confusion until they were jolted out of their staring spell by a loud pound of a fist against the window’s frame “IROH! GET IROH YOU IDIOTS!”

The men did as they were told and fetched Iroh, being thankful that Zuko wasn’t delirious enough to think his biological father was actually on the boat with them- or worse, they’d be expected to sail all the way back to the nation he was banished from just because the boy had a tummy ache.

It wasn’t long until Iroh moved Zuko to his quarters to try and get the boy better. He held back a handful of his own reactions as his nephew groaned in front of the bucket, patting his back. “Well… I’m glad I didn’t eat that duck after all!”
__________________________________________________________________

The two were rustling through vegetation for what felt like years, but in reality it was a handful of weeks. They were still finding their way as new fugitives, but were able to find simple Earth Kingdom clothing to help blend in better. Zuko’s hair was about a centimeter or two long, and to his misfortune his uncle couldn’t seem to resist petting the silky, soft surface no matter how many times he shouted at him or batted him away.

Zuko was dragging his feet far behind his uncle, pouting about some new issue he ran into within the forest. It was always about some animal chirping too loud or bugs biting him or not liking the aftertaste of fruits they found.

Iroh looked back as he spoke, blindly moving branches in front of him “You know, Zuko, though this is certainly not an ideal situation, just think of all the people who never get to go out and explore the world like we have! Some people never even leave their cities to experience such natu-GUAAH!!!” -he fell off of an unexpected ledge, startling the life out of Zuko.

“DAD!!!” Zuko called out in a panic, running up to the edge only to realize the “fall” was a mere few feet. His uncle had safely fallen into a soft bush, nonchalantly staring up at the boy. “I’m alright, Son!” He joked back, only calling him such a name when Zuko slipped up his words. “But look… wild bacui berries!” he beamed with a wide smile.

Zuko sighed as he shut his eyes with a soft, relieved smile.
__________________________________________________________________

At the White Lotus Camp, happily reunited with his uncle, Zuko was sent off with the others on a last minute trip to the market in order for everyone to have the most optimum energy reserved for the attack against the firelord that was set for the next day.

"Zuko! Do not forget to reach for the fruits from the top of the stand!" Iroh shouted before they could take off.

"Yes, Dad." Zuko pretended to be annoyed, dramatically rolling his eyes back.

"And don't forget to haggle over the fish that are in season, they charge far too much!" Iroh added

"Okay, Dad." Zuko lazily nodded.

"Oh! Also wear a hat if the it gets too bright out- you worry me, Son!"

"Whaaatever, Dad."

"And whatever you do don't-"

"Yip yip! Sounds great! Bye! Love you!" Zuko interrupted as they started to take off, not wanting the sun to set before they got back.

They all finished laughing, Toph pitched in with a cocked brow, “...I thought he was your Uncle?” As they soared upwards and over to the nearest market, Zuko shrugged with a mischievous smile “Either way.”

...

Bumi Scratched his head, "Wait a minute... I thought he was your third cousin!?" The members of the White Lotus laughed and shook their heads, watching the kids as they took off. Piandao put a hand on Iroh's shoulder, "You raised a brave young man, Iroh." The retired general smiled and nodded, "Yes, I am so proud of him."

__________________________________________________________________

“A package from your nephew arrived, Sir!” One of Iroh’s tea-tenders called out, bringing the fancy box to the retired general. “What a great surprise! I haven’t seen my nephew in almost a month since he’s been out on his travels… I need to catch up with him soon!” Iroh usually had dinner with Zuko every single weekend when the teashop was closed, the two taking turns on who visits who. However, the new firelord had been away pursuing duties that Iroh had to pass up on joining in order to keep his business moving.

Iroh took the package with both hands and placed it delicately on the table. He plucked the note out from the string that clung to it to give it a read.

”Uncle, or “Dad,”

I’m sending this to you to wish you a Happy Father’s Day. I hate that I can’t be there with you on the actual holiday but please know I am thinking of you and that I miss you very much. Thank you for being a great father to Lu Ten and I, I may have taken a while to open up but I’m glad to be able to receive and practice your advice that you give. Though times were very rough back then, I still smile when I remember the moments where you’d give me talks before bed or tell me stories on our walks. I’m sure you knew, but I really did like those stories even when I pretended like I didn’t. Thank you for being patient with me and loving me unconditionally. After this trip I want to spend a whole week with you- no more of this firelord business! Perhaps you could tell me some of those stories again and I can tell you how I really feel about them.

P.S. I ran into Song from that farming village over in the Earth Kingdom, her village is now fully stocked with ostrich horses. She also is very proud to be bumped up to an official practicing doctor, and wants to tell you she said ‘hello.’

P.S.S. You will never believe this- guess who I found at a war museum not too far from where our ship blew up? Oto the Dragoncat! He was in really rough shape at the museum, but it’s good to know he survived- kinda. He did keep both of his buttons- the original and the “new and improved” one! You sure know how to secure a button! of course, they let me take it back with me... but it was a bit embarrassing to explain that I had kept a stuffed toy with me during the chase for the Avatar! Maybe it won't make any press?

P.S.S.S. I cannot socialize with these other political leaders for the life of me and this is becoming unbearable- I am forcing you to come with me next time!

I love you, “Dad.”

-Your “son,” Zuko :)

Oh wait! P.S.S.S.S. (flip to back!)”

Iroh chuckled and flipped to the back of the card that was quickly running out of space.

”This gift honestly looks terrible but I tried my best! I would have replaced it with something fancier but I knew that’s not your way so I threw in something you’d also enjoy to kind of make up for it. Maybe for next Father’s Day I’ll try and make you another one and it can progressively get less bad every year!

Again, I love you very much.

- Zuko

Iroh wiped the tears from his eyes and set the card to a safe place where it wouldn’t get lost. He opened the box to reveal a woven blanket of red, white, green, and blue fabrics. The color patterns were all out of order and the hem was sloppy, yet the blanket still stayed in one piece when taking it out of the box. Zuko didn’t need to explain that the blanket represented the four elements, but Iroh did look forward to hearing him share how this blanket came to be when they’d meet up again. He looked at the bottom of the box, and noticed a handful of familiar seashells, some ceramic and wooden white lotus tiles, and a bag that read “White Dragon Tea.” with “NOT White JADE!” handwritten over it- by presumably Zuko. Iroh let his fingers brush over the shells and tiles as he looked back on their past. He felt so happy to have his nephew grow into the person he’d always hoped he’d be- the real him. The person he was back before all the tragedies occurred. Every time he used to look into his nephew’s hurt eyes he knew that boy wasn’t gone but rather trapped deep somewhere within him… and he was so happy to have that boy back.

Chapter Text

Iroh knew the whole time that the poor kid had snuck his childhood stuffed toy with them during their banishment. Oto, a stuffed dragon cat given to Zuko as a baby, had been a favorite of Zuko’s for practically his entire life. So much so that his mother had to secretly buy more in order to swap them out after any typical wear-and-tear like surprise swimming parties in the pond or amputations done by his little sister. Thankfully the toy was made within the fire nation, therefore fairly flame resistant, as most parents preferred that their fire-bending babies didn’t bend in a crib full of flammable toys.

Iroh knew the boy started keeping it in a secret spot in his room after his mom disappeared- mostly because he showed Iroh himself.

”It’s such a good hiding spot, that even Azula can’t find it!” Zuko whispered to his uncle, displaying a tiny space in his floor where Oto had a makeshift bed consisting of his mother’s scarves and a what looked like a small decorative pillow that matched the new one on Zuko’s bed (and the remaining set in Ursa’s vacant room). Oto the dragon cat was tucked in and never to leave the secret space, because no one was there to scold Azula for stealing it or keep her from telling her friends that her brother still sleeps with a toy. “Very lovely, Prince Zuko. He seems nice and cozy!” Iroh commented as he patted Oto’s head.

Though Zuko admitted that he was a bit “too grown” to own such a thing, he couldn’t bear to let Oto go. Being older and even more vulnerable than before, Zuko still desperately needed his little buddy.

The first night on the boat, Zuko was still a bit dreary from the pain medicine. Iroh decided to help out by unpacking his things for him, finding the old friend at the bottom of one of his bags. “Well hello, Oto!” Iroh whispered in surprise as he examined the old toy. He then changed his gaze to the sleeping boy, then back at the toy’s slightly buffed button eyes. Iroh knew putting the toy with him could potentially make him stray away from ever having with him again, but that was up to Zuko on if he wanted to bring it up or not. Iroh sighed, risking it by gently lifting the boy’s arm to lay Oto down where he belonged all these years. Pulling the blankets higher over his shoulders and blowing the candles out, Iroh let the boy rest.

…

There wouldn’t have been much of a difference with healing, but Zuko’s did dare to remove his bandage one day too soon. Iroh expected him to demand it be left on longer than it was needed, not this.

Stomach churning screams echoed across the metal ship. Iroh had almost broken down the locked door to the boy’s room because no matter how much he pleaded, he would not let anyone, even his only true supporter, in that room.

“Prince Zuko, I beg of you, let me in!” “NEVER! No one is ever going to see me again!” Zuko shouted back, throwing a book at the metal door. Iroh then heard the sound of threads breaking, followed by tiny beads falling across the floor. Lastly, a tiny object must have also been chucked as another, much quieter *tick* bounced off of the metal interior.

…

Moments prior on the other side of the door, Zuko was sitting in front of a mirror, staring longingly at the bandage clinging to his face. He knew it was bad enough around his ear since that side’s hearing was done for, but perhaps the overall scar itself wouldn’t be as bad?

Uncle Iroh had told him that they would take it off in two days from now if he felt ready. Half of him wanted to never see it and just have people bandage him forever, even if said bandage would turn into a large fabric patch without the appearance of a recent medical crisis instead. The other half really wanted his full eyesight back and didn’t want to wait any longer. He knew his vision would be fine with the exception of his lid not being able to open as wide as the other, because after a couple of weeks, he’d gently open it when his uncle would switch out the bandages. He’d watch his uncle try to suppress a mix of negative emotions as his new complexion was exposed- fake smiles alongside forced jokes regarding different subjects, and a forgotten set of curled brows that screamed ”How could he do this to his own son- my nephew?”

The first week of changes he kept silent, the second he’d ask little things like “How wide is it?” “Can I try and open my eye yet?” or a simple “Is it looking a little better?” Which had killed Iroh to answer because he was usually giving bad news or lying to the boy. The third week the routine was so set that it was no longer an anxiety-filled one but instead just another time in the day to bond with his uncle. He didn’t ever show it, but Zuko sometimes liked having required moments where he’d have to sit down and not progress his little Avatar hunt. Though if anything were to become optional, anything not Avatar related would surely be just too much of a waste of time.

Zuko tilted his head as he stared his reflection down, knowing he wouldn’t have the excuse of “I can’t look at it, you do it!” If he changed today’s bandage himself. Even if it hurt a bit, he’d miss the feel of his uncle’s light fingers cleaning and securing the wound. He’d also miss the soothing humming that filled the silence, though he could always experience this more if he’d just say yes to tea or pai sho more often.

Zuko then thought of having his face revealed with his uncle there. He couldn’t do that… he could not have an audience of any kind for such an event. What if it was worse than it felt? What if it was super noticeable? How bad was it?

There have been plenty of burn victims around the fire nation, but not enough yo give Zuko an idea of what his might look like. He’d seen discoloration on limbs and burns that looked very similar to scars from weaponry, but all of the major cases usually ended in death or disabilities that made palace work simply unachievable for them. Azula said some people get burned so bad that their bones melt, but Zuko didn’t think such a thing could be possible.

It was settled. Time to get it over with. Zuko held the bandage to his head and unraveled the cloth band holding it in place. Letting the band hit the floor, Zuko slowly pulled it down from the ear-side first.

Zuko let out a startled, sharp gasp. He wasn’t even sure if he’d ever be able to breathe again at this rate, as he seemed to be completely frozen except for the heart pounding in his chest. His ear was completely distorted, shriveled and atrophied compared to his other one.

”No.” he mouthed with no sound escaping, not wanting to continue.

He didn’t know how to even secure the band back, and he was too terrified of explaining to his uncle that he needed it re-secured as he was too cowardly to keep going.

Just do it, Zuko. Keep going. He ushered himself, then took another deep breath. Instead of a slow reveal, he had decided to close his eyes shut and let the bandage fall. After three very long minutes of sitting there with his eyes closed, he allowed them to open.

He didn’t know what to do first: scream or get sick? An involuntary wail left his lips as he hunched over and started heaving. “No-no-no-no-NO! NO! NO!” He shouted, hearing a metal door slide open from the outside.

“Zuko? Is everything okay in there?” Some familiar voice called, but he had no capability of trying to figure out who it was. Zuko’s took the mirror and threw it across the room, not only allowing himself to be free of his reflection but to also make getting to him more of a difficult task with the shards now spread across the entire floor.

“Zuko! Let me in!” The voice demanded.

”Zuko is gone. Zuko is not here. Zuko left a long time ago.” the banished prince told himself.

The face his mother created was forever changed. This was not like some terrible, temporary haircut. One could not grow back an ear or an eyebrow or such a deep level of skin. This was much worse than he’d imagined, perhaps this error in perception was from the destruction of nerves being at fault for the lack of pain instead of the lack of severity.

Zuko wanted to stop hollering out, but every exhale was a panicked cry. He tried to find a hiding spot in his small room, but the only safe place without glass on it was the mattress. Ah yes, under the blankets where it’s safe. Perhaps doin so could block out the yelling from outside his door too!

Zuko staggered over to the bed, letting himself collapse under the woven blankets made to keep him warm from the freezing ocean’s air. Though, something lumpy got in his way as he laid down. Pulling it out, Oto, his beloved dragon cat, gave him a pathetic look. For a second Zuko felt sad, eyes watery and nose stinging. He gave the toy a big hug then pulled it back, re-examining it. Oto’s buttons were perfectly symmetrical and shiny. Fur untouched. Ears both in tact.

“I hate you.” Zuko whispered.

He didn’t want to hate Oto, but oh how his perfect little head mocked the boy.

“I HATE you…” Zuko hissed again, thumb digging deep under its left button.

“Prince Zuko, I beg of you, let me in!”

They want to save Oto and see my face instead! They want to mock me and parade me around the fire nation for everyone to see! I’m a monster and if they get to me I’ll be put up for display!

“NEVER! No one is ever going to see me again!” He snapped back, throwing his nearest bedside novel at the doorway to scare the hunter away.

Looking back at his prey, he ripped Oto’s button off and chucked it at the door. Beads spilled everywhere, mixing with the glass like dead autumn leaves from different trees.

…
*Thud*

They’re breaking in!

“Zuko open this door or I am knocking it down!”

*Thud!*

“LEAVE ME ALONE!”

*Bang!… Bang!… BANG!*

The metal dented and crashed down, revealing a blurry man whom he could barely make out through his watery eyes.

“Zuko! What is going on?!” The man asked, stepping around the glass and beads to the best of his ability. Zuko was frozen, starring at Iroh with terrified eyes. Zuko constantly reminding Iroh of a stray cat he once knew as a child. It would hiss and growl any time you even looked at it, but with enough love it would occasionally stick around for a few pets and scratches. Ozai, barely old enough to speak in full sentences, had burned the cat enough to leave a permanent, scarred bald patch on its side. The cat stopped coming around the palace after that, but Iroh ran into him on his long walks outside the palace from time to time. He’d only ever come out for Iroh, more than willing to eat whatever little feast he’d bring for him.

Iroh knew not to approach too quickly. Be slow. Let them know it’s you.

Iroh gently knelt down and looked at the lost boy with the busted open toy in his hands. Even with a stuffy nose, he could still smell the familiar scent of tea and lotus incense. This helped him snap out of his deliriousness. “Uncle,” Zuko whispered, less of a beckoning and more of a confirmation.

Iroh kept his voice low and calm, “My sweet, beautiful, young Prince Zuko… what is with all of this commotion?” Zuko winced at the word “beautiful,” but didn’t respond further than that. It was nice for him to be called his name again, as he needed a reminder that he was in fact, still “Zuko.”

“I don’t like it…” the boy weakly mumbled, then looked down at the toy. “I killed Oto.” He added, letting more tears drop. “You didn’t ‘kill’ Oto dear nephew, let me help you clean up this mess and I can fix him good as new.” Iroh promised, but Zuko just shook his head and pointed to a part of a once whole button across the room “Button’s broken.”

Iroh gave a sad smile, nodded to himself, then stood up “You don’t have shoes on, so you stay here.” He ordered, leaving the room. Moments later, Iroh came back with a broom, a small sack, and a small box. “Pick with button you’d like.” Iroh told his nephew as he passed along the box of many different styled buttons.

“I’m too old for him anyways.” Zuko muttered, finally coming down from his episode. “You can never be too old for anything, my nephew. You cannot live every rule set by other people. Though, if you’re worried I will not let it be known that you have him.” The older man said as he swept the beads and glass into a pile. “You really think you can fix him? He’s ruined,” Zuko said as he played with the loose strands of thread, feeling bad for the dragon cat.

“It will be Oto either way, no?”

…

After the door was fixed and he could relax about not having any surprise visitors, Zuko examined the toy. He noted the imperfect dents of fabric where the rips used to be, and could see a blurry reflection in the cat's new crimson button. Iroh knew there were plenty of matching black buttons in the box, and felt the bittersweetness of Zuko choosing the red one instead.

“Thank you, Uncle. I’m… sorry for worrying you.” Zuko sighed, sitting next to Iroh on his bed. “Of course, Nephew. I knew this day would come… I just wish it wouldn’t have involved breaking your nice antique mirror!” As Iroh joked, Zuko did not laugh one bit. “I feel like that glass. I’m not ever going to be the same again.” He sighed, feeling a hand go on his back. “Well I still see a strong young man who is going to find his way in this world… oh and you too, Zuko!” Iroh teased as he looked from Oto to Zuko. Zuko gave a small smirk, then turned away to hide it. “I saw that smile Prince Zuko! There’s my nephew! Oh it’s been so long I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” Iroh exclaimed as Zuko forced himself to turn and hide into his pillow to muffle “I’m not smiling!” “I can hear it in your voice, nephew!” Iroh said as he dodged swats and kicks. “Alright, alright! I’ll leave you two be. Oto, keep an eye on him. Your good eye.” Iroh finished as he stood up, dodging a pillow that was thrown his way. Iroh hoped that last joke wasn’t too far, but to his relief he heard a very short, very quiet huff of laughter from the boy.