Chapter 17
The moment Katara spoke, she regretted every word she uttered. Her fingers squeezed the edge of the sink, wondering how to amend it. There was already an elephant in the room; she didn’t need to paint it pink. Why did she have to say that? She was unprepared for this conversation to happen abruptly. She didn’t mean to mention it now, especially after what she found out. But despite how much she wanted to, she couldn’t take it back or tell him it was a joke. She couldn’t downplay the importance. All those times thinking about it, weighting and examining it from all angles, Katara knew this was for the best. For all parties involved. They would realize it. Eventually.
“No.” The tone of his voice almost blasted her through the window. The heat emanating from his body was enough to scorch her even if they stood on the opposite sides of the world. “No.”
Not like she expected he would thank her for the opportunity. She understood what she was asking him to do. She wouldn’t do it. No matter how long she thought about it, she wouldn’t do it. She was sure he wouldn’t either. But there was a silver lining. She wasn’t in his position and he himself had never before been in this position. She hoped. On that speck of hope castles were built. Or, maybe better to say, the eventuality was built on it.
“What happened to the promise of undying servitude?” the words were out of her mouth before she had time to think everything through.
“Forget it.”
“Is that how it works?”
“It’s not happening, Katara. Forget it. No. Ask me anything else.”
“There is nothing else,” she said and finally faced him. “If you would stop pacing around for a second, you would se--”
“No.”
She had gone through thousands of conversations in her head with him to prepare herself for this. She should feel prepared for all the time she spent daydreaming about this very conversation. In retrospect, she was ready for his reaction. The problem was that in the daydreams this conversation happened when planned. However, at that moment, she found herself not in the mood to walk on thin ice. In the daydreams she had been very reasonable, never getting angry or frustrated. All the things Katara couldn’t be in one go, whether she was in a mood to have this conversation or not. Although, she could be antonyms of those words in one go. As if to prove her own words, at the moment she was very much frustrated, angry, and unreasonable.
“Is there a celebration coming up in your life? Anything that requires a gift?”
He blinked a few times, like it could help his mind work better to find connections and make sense of her words. After several minutes passed in silence, it was apparent she rendered him speechless. The look of utter confusion was enough to make her less frustrated and unreasonable. Somewhat. It’s just that it was too late to turn back now.
“I was thinking of getting you a dictionary.”
He fell against the wall, softly banging his head a few times. “This isn’t funny, Katara.”
Well, if she wanted to tell him it was a joke, now was her chance. There was no doubt he would prefer that. And a part of her would like nothing more. Katara sighed. No take backs. She tried to keep her voice neutral and emotions in check as she replied, “At least we agree on something. This wouldn’t be slightest funny if it was a joke.”
“You can’t be serious about this.”
No take backs. Daydreams or not, she knew what she needed to tell him. She blew out a breath and looked at him. He was already watching her with an intensity that made tiny sparks skip on her skin. She could hardly stand to hold his gaze.
“I thought a lot about why the Spirits saved you,” she whispered after she found her voice. “It wasn’t just me. I believe the Spirits saved you--”
“Doesn’t matter who did what. It’s not happening. I’ll find another way to repay you.”
Katara decided not to dignify that with an answer. Mostly because she couldn’t keep her voice natural and emotions in check. Everything about him was making her angry, and she didn’t know why. Before things got out of hand, she needed to change the subject. She had planted the seed. Now it needed some room to breathe and grow. She would prepare for the next conversation meantime. Not that it helped.
“We can talk about this later--”
“Ask me anything else.”
“There is nothing else.”
Zuko’s hand went to his hair, probably to pull, but it was too short to grab. He scratched his head as a last resort, resuming his pacing around the room. He looked like he was about to break out in hives. “I never asked anyone to save me.”
“Life is unfair. Undeserving people often get luckier than ones who deserve it.”
His back stiffened, movements halting in mid-step. Katara closed her eyes. Another thing she regretted uttering the moment she spoke. Taking a step forward, she whispered, “That came out all wrong. I didn’t mean to say it. Not like that.”
He was so rigid she wondered if he stopped breathing, but didn’t dare to take another step or reach for him. Then Zuko’s face turned to the side, eyes not quite meeting hers. “But it’s what you think. Do you regret it?”
She couldn’t deny that it was what she thought, but she didn’t regret saving him. Not one bit. She hadn’t saved him because he was the most deserving, she just couldn’t let him die and that would never change. Katara kneaded the bridge of her nose and took another step forward, and then another, until she stood behind him. Collecting her courage, she reached out and laid a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to turn around. “I don’t regret it. But I won’t apologize for what I said. You almost destroyed the only hope we have to end the war. You don’t deserve it.”
The look in his eyes almost burned her eyelashes. He tried to shrug her hand off, but she tightened her grip.
“Yet despite that, you got a second chance. Do you know what people wouldn’t do for it? I know you aren’t stupid. You understand that you can’t waste it, can’t take it for granted, right?! You are obliged to deserve it, to do better and not waste a chance given to you.” When he didn’t stop her, she became braver and more inspired. Katara leaned closer, as if sharing a secret to eternal life. “Besides, you’re not old enough for your past to determine your entire future. Don’t let it. If nothing else, Aang will teach you the power--”
He brought his face even closer, startling her into silence. “When you find that Spirit, ask them to unsave me, because it’s not happening.”
“Gah!” she groaned and threw her hands in the air, putting distance between them. Her frustration was filling up faster than she could keep it down. Before she knew, words were flying out of her mouth, and another elephant had entered the room. “Aang wasn’t this dramatic when he heard it and if someone gets to be dramatic about this, it’s him!”
Stop talking!
First the color drained from his face, then blood rushed forward, engulfing it in red. “You...you told him already?”
Now that her well had broken and so much had already spilled, how could she stop talking? How could she back down? She was too indignant, maybe unjustly but still indignant, to hold it in. Her head tilted to the side, regarding him with as much challenge as she could master, which was a lot at any given time but overflowed when she got riled up. And that’s how she ended up painting the second elephant green.
“I also told him you agreed to it.”
“What?! Why? W... wh... wha… Why?”
“Because I know you will agree eventually...” she whispered, trailing off. She had thought she was ready for anything, especially for the worst. This didn’t even feel like the worst yet, and she was failing.
Zuko took a step towards her. His eyes weren’t just liquid, they were molten. Katara didn’t know how from one minute to the next she lost all her bravado, but she was retreating with each step he took forward until the edge of the counter dug in her back and there was no escape.
“It’s not happening. There is no eventually. The answer is no.” His face hovered above hers.
“Don’t make decisions on my behalf.” It sounded more like a growl than an actual sentence.
Who did he think he was? Katara kept her back straight and chin high under his scowl. “You owe me. This is what I ask for saving your life. Multiple times. Take it or leave it. No,” she said, crossing her arms to gain space to breathe. “We both know ‘leave it’ isn’t an option.”
To her utter shock, instead of giving her third-degree burns, his eyes cleared like a winning idea floated into his brain. Zuko stepped back, and the tension that was suffocating her ebbed away until only the memory remained. The prince returned to pacing, but his gait had a purpose now. With a frown, Katara watched him, struggling to calm her erratic heartbeat.
“What if I find someone else for you?”
“It’s not how this works, and you know it,” she said in a tired voice. She should have expected it, and not the opposite. When had she become this hopeful?
“I’m sure the avatar would be more comfortable with someone else.”
“Look. You were saved so you can do this. What if fulfilling it would release you from whatever the... uh… the thing,” she said, waving a hand between them to show what she didn’t say. Attempts to keep her face blank were unsuccessful. There was no calming her heartbeat now. She bit into her lip before forcing herself to continue. “If you were willing, it wouldn’t be a sacrifice. Please stop pacing around for a moment and think about it, you would know I’m right.”
“My uncle Iroh,” he said, as if she hadn’t spoken. “He is a better choice than I am.”
“The Spirits didn’t save him.”
“Are you sure about that? He spent quite some time in the Spirit World.”
Her face scrunched up in dismay. “Did he?”
Zuko nodded. “He did.”
“Hold that smile,” she said, pointing a finger at his face. “That doesn’t matter. I’m sure there was a reason he was saved, but it wasn’t to train Aang.” Then it registered what he said. Could Iroh know what it was and why it was happening between them? “Did you talk to your uncle about us?”
He looked at her as if he wanted to check her for a head injury.
“You need to talk to your uncle. He may know something.”
“Visiting the Spirit World clearly doesn’t provide answers. You’re changing the subject.”
She rolled her eyes. “You don’t seem to ask questions for anyone to provide answers. I think his age clearly means he knows more than you do.”
“That’s not happening either.”
“Seriously, when is your birthday?”
He glared at her, then muttered, “I can’t believe the avatar would agree to this.”
“Aang is also warming up to the idea. And it’s not an immediate thing.” Katara tried to reassure him. “Before firebending, Aang has to master earthbending and at the moment, the teacher is imprisoned.”
“Is imprisonment a requirement?” the prince asked dryly.
Her shoulders relaxed. He had to accept it if he was already joking, right? He was quiet, pacing around the room. It lasted so long, Katara almost believed the impossible would happen. Then he faced her, and all hopes plummeted.
“It’s not happening, Katara. It can’t be me. Doesn’t matter if I have to go back to the Spirit World or trail after you like a puppy, it’s not happening. It can’t be me. Ask me anything else. Anything I can.”
If she were honest, it went better than it could have gone. She even made some progress: he didn’t jump out the window and run. “Can we agree on one thing, though?”
“You don’t have to ask. It’s all I will ever be able to think about now.”
She sagged against the counter and smiled.
He looked at her, appalled. “Don’t look as if--”
“Later. We will talk later. When we are all ready for it.”
“Katara,” he started, but didn’t get to finish the sentence again. There were footsteps outside followed by Sokka’s and Aang’s voices arguing over which house it was. Zuko looked at her with the same alarm she felt. He was already walking deeper into the house before she moved. After coming out of her stupor, Katara followed, and all but shoved the prince into her bedroom. She shut the door and leaned against it to catch her breath. Then another sort of panic seized her lungs. She whipped the door open, half expecting Zuko to have jumped from the window. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw him sitting on the bed with his head in his hands. He lifted his eyes to her, looking bewildered.
“You better not leave until I’m back,” said Katara. “And don’t make a sound.”
His look turned incredulous.
She pointed a finger in warning. “No matter how long it will take.”
He sighed and inclined his head in a nod.