Second post containing drabbles written for Irrel's AU comic (sorry for spamming your friends page, guys).
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011 Redecorating
When a 16 year old Zuko request for a change it's as surprising as it is welcome.
"What were you thinking of changing," Iroh asks him over a cup of tea.
"My bedroom," Zuko replies a little hesitantly. And then, because Iroh can't read his mind: "I want to redecorate my bedroom. I want to get rid of the red walls. ... And the carpet."
Iroh doesn't question Zuko's wish (although he wonders what is wrong with the carpet; he himself is rather fond of the lush green and the ivory flowerprint), but instead welcomes the idea with open arms.
The psychologist said that Zuko can not be forced to heal, that he himself has to permit it. It's a step in the right direction.
They spend the better part of the week at the hardware store, trying to find the perfect color because in true teenager fashion Zuko keeps changing his mind about which color he wants although he is a little more consistent about those he doesn't want. He also learns that he can let his creativity run wild if he wants to because Iroh has no objections whatsoever to a graffiti wall.
In the end, they buy cream-colored paint (the label reads 'Honey Cream') for the walls and several smaller containers of reds. Iroh is apprehensive until Zuko tells him he picked red because he likes it, not because...
"It could have just as well been green," he adds, then thinks about it for a moment and decides that red might not be the perfect color after all.
In the end - much to Iroh's relief - Zuko decides on blue. He still doesn't say why he needs 5 different shades of blue, however.
After the carpet is thrown out (Iroh really doesn't see what's wrong with it but the wooden floor underneath is also nice, he supposes) they set to work. Furniture is pushed away from the walls and covered in old bedsheets, comics and game guides are rediscovered (how did his Final Fantasy guide end up tucked behind the closet?) and the red slowly gives way to the friendlier cream. Slowly, because that red paint is pretty dark and they have to paint each wall 6 times until no more red is seen. It takes up their entire weekend.
On Monday, when Zuko returns from school, he takes out the blue paint. The shades range from a deep navy to a pale iceblue. Zuko uses it to draw stripes of various width on the outer (and longest) wall of his room, from ceiling to floor, picking shades randomely as he goes. Iroh is surprised by this sudden bout of creativity.
"Well," he says, looking around the room. "This is an improvement, isn't it? The room seems much bigger now."
Zuko nods his head while applying the paint in slow, even strokes. Iroh's next statement surprises him, however.
"So when are we going to get you some new furniture?"
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012 Confrontation - for my favorite enemy
kawaii_lyn Three years after that fateful incident, Ozai calls.
It's the first contact Iroh and his brother have ever since then. This is not Iroh's fault - Ozai has returned every parcel and letter sent by Iroh or Zuko respectively. Unopened.
"I fear I made a mistake," his younger brother says. "I was harsh."
"You wish to beg forgiveness?" Iroh asks coldly.
"Yes."
"I will call you back," he replies and hangs up without saying goodbye.
He tells Zuko before he goes to see his therapist.
"It's your decision. If you don't want to see them, you won't," Iroh says.
Three years is a long time, but it is not nearly enough to heal all the wounds Ozai inflicted on his son.
During the next couple of days, Zuko is quiet and withdrawn; more so than usual. Iroh understands and leaves him be.
After two weeks, Zuko agrees.
"Azula is more than welcome; your welcome depends on your son and how you treat him," Iroh says when he calls Ozai that evening.
"He'll be glad to see me," his brother assures him.
Iroh doubts it. They set an appointment for tea the next sunday. As the week progresses, Zuko becomes increasingly more tense and edgy.
On sunday afternoon, Ozai arrives at 4:30 PM sharp. Alone.
"Azula is out with her friends. She'll be here next time," he says, but Zuko has a feeling that it is a lie. 'And who said that there's going to be a next time at all,' he asks himself.
They sit together in the living room: Iroh and Zuko sipping their tea - something the teenager has picked up from his uncle - while Ozai fidgets with his cup of coffee. Their conversation is carefully neutral, the atmosphere awkwardly charged with unspoken accusations. Eventually, Zuko snaps.
"Why are you here?" his voice is calm and clear and Iroh has never heard the boy talk like that to someone before.
"Why I am here? To make things better, of course. To take you home," Ozai replies uncomfortably.
"This is my home now," Zuko replies (Iroh feels a sudden warmth rush through his veins; it means a lot to him). "I don't want to leave."
"Don't you miss us? Home? Your friends?" his father asks.
"You're clutching at straws," the teen observes. "And yes, I missed you. All of you. I wouldn't eat or sleep for 4 weeks when I first got here because I missed you so much. I tried to kill myself because I missed you so much. Until last year, they had me under heavy medication and I still see my therapist 3 times a week--"
"Stop it," Ozai interrupts, shaking slightly.
"What? Don't you want to hear? Is it too much for you?" the boy asks and his voice is neither cruel nor spiteful but curiously friendly.
"Zuko," Iroh admonishes gently and the boy by his side shrugs, taking another sip of tea.
"I'm only saying it like it is; there's no shame in saying the truth," he mumbles, pouting slightly.
An awkward silence fills the room and Ozai nervously stirs another spoon of sugar into his coffee. It's the 7th, he notices, and the brew in his cup is already unbearably sweet.
"I want us to be whole again," he says quietly. "I made a mistake, a huge one. I shouldn't have sent you away; I shouldn't have done so many things and I know it. But I want to make it better. I want you to come home."
Zuko tilts his head to the side, regarding his father with curious, ochre eyes.
"You mean you're sorry?" he offers and Ozai nods.
They lapse into silence again. Iroh is afraid to move.
"Why won't you say so?" the boy asks.
"It'll be a little bumpy at first, but I'm sure we'll manage. You won't need to go to therapy anymore," Ozai says almost at the same time, as if he didn't hear the question. "Azula will be glad to see you; there's a PlayStation 4plus waiting for you at home. You still like your video games, don't you?"
Zuko frowns.
"Rita - she does... the household and all - cooks a fabulous risotto. You'll like it," Ozai continues, staring at his cup.
"If you're sorry, why don't you say so?" Zuko asks again, but the man sitting alone doesn't react at all.
"The Hakoda's still live down the street. Sokka's in college; he plays for their team. He's grown a lot. He's an excellent player. And you wouldn't recognize Kata--"
"Damn it, dad! Speak with me! Don't try to blind me with promises and bargains; I am your son not your customer! You want me to live with you, you want to make 'us' whole again?! You can't even tell me you're sorry for what you did! I don't understand why you're here - it's obviously not because you have any interest in me or my wellfare. And just so you know: I like going to therapy!"
And before either adult can say something, Zuko is up and out of the room.
"I believe it is time for you to go, Ozai," Iroh says after a moment and gently pries the cup out of his brother's stiff hands. "The bags in the hallway are Azula's. Please make sure that she receives them."
He doesn't say goodbye.
He doesn't ask where Zuko's room is.
He doesn't fight.
"He left the bags for Azula," Iroh says quietly upon entering the darkened bedroom some time later. Zuko sighs.
"How do you feel?" his uncle asks.
"Like crap. I thought... never mind. It doesn't matter anymore."
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013 First
The first time Zuko develops a conscious crush on a member of the opposite sex he is 15 years old and the mother of all pimples has taken up residence smack in the middle of his face.
She is tall, busty and has long dark hair that reminds him of Katara, only that hers is shiny and smooth and sways sensually in ways that always catch his eye.
Miss Jun has got to be one of the strictest teachers Zuko ever had and like every other boy in school, Zuko's head over heels in love with her.
He dreams of romantic dates spent discussing English grammar and sweeping her off her feet with amazing lyrical skills that he has yet to obtain. He tackles Shakespeare's sonnets and metaphysical poetry with an enthusiasm usually reserved for twinkies (and old Blue Spirit reruns on Friday night) only. He's on first-name basis with John Donne, can analyze and explain his sermons and meditations with ease. He sprouts into random bouts of quoting Thomas Traherne and Henry Vaughan, much to his uncle's annoyance (random proverbs would have been much more welcome).
Zuko's undying love struggles with failing the exam on metaphysical poets (because he knows it all - just not the things she asked).
His heart breaks when at the end of the term, Miss Jun leaves the school and quits teaching to do what she always wanted to do.
(But what about the 4 children we're supposed to have once I'm 21?)
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I missed this drabble when gathering all drabbles to post them in my journal. So here it is... back where it belongs.
014 Switch-A-Roo
Azula acknowledges the fact that her father is just a man and that he gets lonely sometimes, without their mother there to keep him company. She is awfully lonely, too, without a big brother to harass (she was supposed to emberass him when he brings home his first girlfriend because that's what little sisters do, damn it; Zuko might be the new Don Juan or Casanova and cocky to boot without her loving 'guidance' - little sisters are important like that), without a mom to take her shopping on odd saturdays.
As she grows older, she also learns to acknowledge the fact that a man and a woman can be together for many reasons. Love is the most beautiful and purest of these, but greed and lust, it seems, are the most common ones. She struggles with this knowledge because mom always told her how love conquers all and how it is the most powerful and beautiful thing in the world and Azula wants that for her father and her brother and her uncle and herself, too.
She doesn't bother to learn the names of all these women her father brings home.
Her father claims that she needs a female influence in her life. Azula would like to retort that she owns socks that cover more than the dresses of those women he insists on bringing home but instead she just turns away. Because her father wouldn't understand.
What Azula wants is her mother, but she will have to make do with her memories, with old Seventh Heaven shows and the slu company her father keeps.
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014 Red (White II) (14 because I miscounted, White II because White shouldn't have to stand alone)
The bandages on Zuko's arms are stained red. His son's eyes are empty and expressionless and the sterile room is blindingly white.
Zuko doesn't respond to his presence, drugged to the gills with sedatives and other drugs Ozai doesn't want to think off.
He stands at the end of the bed, not daring to sit on the chair placed next to it. The child psychologist usually sitting there has yet to come through to Zuko but it's difficult.
"It's like he's erected a wall," she told him before. "Like he doesn't want to take notice."
Ozai doesn't know what to think or to say. The psychologist tells him to speak to Zuko, but no words come forward. He can't even stand to look at his son (but he doesn't turn away).
The child breathes evenly, calmly. The more he stares at the empty eyes set into a face looking so much like his own (yet so much like hers), the angrier he becomes. It's all he can do: stand by the bed and become angry.
He doesn't know that his angry grimaces haunt his son in his sleep, is unaware of how much his son can take notice of if he wants to.
What Ozai does know is that seeing Zuko like this, eyes vacant, body heavily bandaged and arms strapped down makes him feel sick to his stomach.
Years later he will admit that the only right decision he made back then was to refuse to let Azula see her brother like this, but that's about it.
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015 So good
If Zuko were here, Katara would be hanging on to his arm. But he isn't, Jet thinks with grim satisfaction and pulls the blue-eyed woman closer.
If Zuko were here, Katara would be kissing his lips. But she isn't, Jet thinks with elated glee and his tongue sweeps over her lips sensually.
If Zuko were here, Katara would be with him because that is how things were supposed to be.
But Zuko isn't here and Katara is with him and it makes Jet indescribably happy.
Not because he begrudges Zuko all the things he had and all the things he still has, but because Jet never had something so good in his entire life.
He has parents that don't give a damn, he has teachers that won't acknowledge his existance or the bruises on his body, he has no money, none of those fancy toys and no skills that make him stand out, that allow him to make his life better.
But he has Katara.
Katara, who believes that he can do anything; Katara, who sighs contently when he nuzzles her neck and brushes his lips against her jaw; Katara, who is the one thing Zuko never knew he had and who is now the best thing in Jet's life.
Because he's never ever had something that is so good and he knows that with Katara by his side, his life will be better.
He will be a better father than his father and Katara for sure will be a better mother than his mother and he won't allow any teacher to ignore his child. He will give it all that he can, will let his child have and take every chance to make it's life a tad better than the one he had when he grew up.
'If a guy is lucky enough to have something so good like you, he'd be stupid to let it go,' Jet thinks.
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016 The real thing referencing
jakia's
second drabble for Irrel's AU challenge
Romance novels are her guilty pleasure; if her brother knew of the stack she has hidden under her bed he'd probably throw a fit. And burn her treasures. (Some of these novels make her blush like mad because the hero and heroine of her novels do more than just holding hands and she really -- but which girl her age doesn't wonder what it's like?)
These novels make her wonder about a lot of things but mostly, they make her wonder about love and what it feels like. Because is it really always this sudden, overwhelming thing or is that just overdoing it for the sake of the audience? She doesn't know - she is a teen and she accepts the fact that never having been in love before (at least not that she knows off; there's only ever been this pleasantly strange fluttery feeling that used to make her so happy and insecure when Zuko was there, but he's her best friend and that can't have been love right because love starts only once your 16) and thus can't really say what it feels like. So she asks the people near her, with the exception of Sokka, for obvious reasons.
She asks Toph and Aang but they're both younger than her and Aang gets all tongue-tied. Toph just rolls her eyes, but nevertheless she tries to help Katara find the answer to her question.
"Love is this feeling that makes you stupidly do everything for someone else even if it hurts," she says. It sounds rather sullen but it's no answer to Katara's question.
Azula, Haru, Suki and Gran-Gran can't give her sufficient answers, either and that although Gran-Gran is the wisest woman in the whole wide world.
In the end, she asks Reverent Pakku.
"Reverent Pakku, what is love?" she inquires politely after having walked all the way to the church on her own.
"Love?" the reverent asks and scratches his chin thoughtfully. The little girl (not so little at age 14) nods her head solemnly. "Why do you want to know?"
"Because... because I don't know what it feels like and everyone says something different but I want to know what it is so I'll know it when I turn 16 and it finally happens," she says hurriedly. Pakku gives her a puzzled look.
"Why 16?"
"Because Sokka said that you have to be 16 years old to fall in love, 21 to date, 30 to kiss and 112 to get married," she replies honestly.
Pakku laughs gently and tousles her hair.
"Love knows no age; love is everywhere, Katara. It's between you and your Gran-Gran, between you and Sokka and between you and God," he explains. Katara frowns a little.
"No one can explain love," he continues. "It's different for everyone and words are not enough to describe it. Love is too big, too wonderful and too divine."
"Even the love between a man and a woman," she asks because she's 14 after all and knows all about the flowers and the bees.
"Not even, Katara. Especially," he replies. "You'll know love when it's there. Trust me."
A few years later, when she's obtained the right to date Jet (by threatening Sokka with revealing the existance of a certain photo) she kisses her boyfriend and feels a flutter of excitement. He makes her heart beat faster, brings her blood to boil and causes all sorts of delicious sensations cursing though her veins.
But she's still not certain whether it's love, whether it's the real thing. Not even sleeping with him can disperse her doubts although in all those romance novels, that is usually the point where she is head over heels in love with him.
But when Zuko kisses her just to emphasize a point, that's when she feels it and she knows its for real and that she can't marry Jet, just like Zuko said because this is too beautiful and too powerful to resist.
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017 At peace (another Zuko/Iroh bonding moment)
Zuko doesn't really want to, but when his uncle invites him to join him for his morning exercises, he complies because he knows it means a lot to Uncle Iroh and he wants to show that he is grateful for all his father's brother has done for him.
Rising with the sun does proof to be a challenge but eventually, Zuko gets used to it. He remembers his father doing these same exercises in the morning, but Ozai never invited or asked Zuko to join him. In Zuko's eyes this is another proof that his father doesn't want him.
"This is part of our heritage," Iroh tells him and Zuko smiles. Our heritage, not yours.
Eventually, he picks up meditating as well and exercises in the evenings, too. His uncle guides his training the same way he used to guide Lu Ten's and every progress Zuko makes has Iroh's chest swelling with pride.
He tells his therapist that these exercises - physical and mental ones alike - make him feel at peace with himself and allow him to clear his mind.
"I can focus on what is truly important," Zuko says and his therapist encourages him to continue.
The Zuko steeling his body and his mind in the backyard has come a long way, considering that 4 months ago, the very same face belonged to a apathetic child strapped to a hospital bed. And he is full of surprises.
"Thank you for giving me peace, Uncle Iroh."
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018 Heartbreak
"It's ok, Katara," Jet says, a little tired. "I forgive you."
Uncertain blue eyes meet his searchingly, but his next words make her hopeful spirits plummet to the deepest pits of despair. It was too much to hope for after all.
"As long as you promise me it won't happen again."
She swallows hard because sleeping with Zuko was something that just happened, nothing that was planned. But it's also something she's planning on doing again, if Zuko'll have her. Jet has to know, he has probably always known.
This can't continue.
"I can't promise you that, Jet," she replies, her voice shaking with determination.
"Why not?" he asks. She knows him well enough to read his body language even though he makes an effort to hide it.
"I don't want to," is the dreaded response and it falls from her lips pure and true like the blade of a guillotine. That dull thud? His heart breaking.
"Katara," he begins but she shakes her head.
"No, Jet. I can't do this, I won't do this to you. I think we'd be better off if we were friends."
He wants to scream and yell at her. Tell her that she's been doing this to him ever since Zuko left, just like Azula. Tell her that he doesn't care because he's nothing on his own and he needs her. Tell her that she can do whatever she wants if only she'll stay; yes, even screw Zuko's brains out.
Because he's terrified of being alone, on his own. Terrified of loosing the only good thing he's ever had.
"Alright."
But Jet can see it in her eyes; what she's been looking for in him (futily), she's found it in Zuko and he loves her too much to force her into covering it with guilt towards himself.
"Zuko better treat you right; he's a damn lucky bastard."
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019 Nice guy for
loveroftheflame and
smillaraaq and their evil, evil challenge (they know what I'm talking about)
They have him pegged as a nice guy. The guy that holds the door open for you, the guy that offers to carry your bag, they guy you'd let your baby sister date without worry because he probably thinks that a girl can get pregnant through kissing and -haha, come on it's only Haru!
Wrong. Wrong wrong wrong wrong WRONG.
Haru is anything but a nice guy. Sure, he's friendly and somewhat shy - on the outside. On the inside, however...
He's not all muscles although he is trained in his family's style in karate. Just muscular enough (for the girls) to be able to offer a strong hold but still slim enough (for the guys) to be easily dismissed.
Haru's forte is not something as base as violence; no, Haru is the kind to fight with other, fiercer and more brutal weapons.
It's his mind.
People are easily categorized and their actions are easily predicted. They are like instruments and Haru is a virtuoso on playing them, on creating symphonies with only a few choice words, few actions.
Take prom, for instance.
He went with Katara Hakoda but he left with Azula Sozin, spent most of the night with her in fact. Just as he had planned.
It was too easy to make Katara believe that he couldn't dance, too easy to ensure that Mika would flirt with Jet in front of Azula, which would offend the petite girl. It was too easy to run interference at the punch bowl by bumping into her, two cups in hand, and making a show of worrying over her dress, offering her the second cup that had supposedly been for Katara. So easy but so enjoyable.
Haru genuinely likes his friends, but he can't help but feel put off that they haven't realized it yet. Oh Azula has. Ever since prom night, she knows and she teases him endlessly about it. About sweet Haru who is more of a extra-sour lemon drop.
And she loves it.
Just as he knew she would.
"Mine," he whispers into her hair and Azula chuckles.
"Delicious irony," she remarks teasingly. "That someone so good is so, so bad."
"You have no idea how bad I really am," he smirks.
"Do you think I'd like it?" she asks and his smirk widens.
"I think you'd love it."
"Then I want to find out."
* * * * *
020 Boogey Man
It's the end of the world because Momo is nowhere to be found and not even his favorite treats can lure him out of his hiding place. Aang has randomely placed tiny piles all of the house but Momo just won't appear.
Aang is so scared, that in the end he turns to Katara for help because she is strong and brave and she'll help him find Momo. Because Aang has a suspicion.
"The Boogey Man?" Katara asks and Aang nods his head vigorously.
"He lives in our basement," he explains.
"No he doesn't. He lives in our attic," the girl says, frowning.
"Nuh-uh he lives in our basement. I can proof it."
The noises Katara can hear through the basement door are strange and she'll admit as much. Maybe, she offers, the Boogey Man is a kind of gypsy monster that travels from basement to basement to attic to basement because, you know, there is only one Boogey Man but a world full of children he's trying to steal.
They are convinced that the Boogey Man is holding Momo hostage in an attempt to steal Aang. This poses a problem because Gyatso won't be back from his shopping trip for a while and Sokka, although not scared of the Boogey Man, is playing a one-on-one football game against Jet. Somewhere.
So it's just the two of them. They are the M.R.S. - the Momo Rescue Squad (they argue about whether it's SWAT or Squad like squid when writing the words on each other's T-Shirts).
They creep down the stairs (armed with dental floss and a very fine comb), leaving the door open because the light switch doesn't work. They have a frog-flash light and glow-in-the-dark stars sticking to their faces.
"Momo?" Aang squeaks into the darkness but he is met with silence.
"Listen up, Boogey Man, we're not scared!" Katara shouts. "You can't have Momo, Aang or me so you better hand over that cat. I'm warning you! I've got dental floss and I'm not scared of using it!"
There's a 'mreow' and a hiss and Momo jumps out of the pile of laundry, a sock clinging stubbornly to his head.
"MOMO!" both children exclaim and sweep the cat up into a hug.
"I though't I'd never see you again! I was so scared," Aang rants, nuzzling his feline friend.
"I told you we'd beat that stupid ol' Boogey Man. He doesn't stand a chance against M.R.S," Katara brags.
WHAM!
"I don't think you should have said that," Aang whispers and stares at into the darkness, at the spot where before, there was a staircase illuminated by daylight flittering through the open door.
He can hear Katara race up the stairs and try the handle.
"It's locked," she gasps and Aang whimpers. "The Boogey Man has logged us in!"
"You mean... he's still here?"
Katara doesn't know but she remains on her guard. They do the only thing two scared children can do while being trapped in a basement. They huddle together and pray that the battery will last until someone comes and frees them.
After 15 minutes the battery dies. The glow-in-the-dark stars itch and Katara carefully peels hers off, sticking them to her shirt where they won't stick anymore.
"They didn't glow all that much," Aang observes and peels his off, too.
They scoot closer together, Momo perched in Aang's lap and purring contently. After a while, they realize that no Boogey Man is coming forward to steal them.
"We might have scared him off," Katara whispers and the younger boy next to her nods.
"He was probably fleeing and locked us in so we wouldn't follow," Aang says.
"He must be really scared of that floss," Katara remarks.
They both make a mental note to always have some dental floss handy when stepping into possibly Boogey Man-infested areas.
"When is Gyatso coming back?"
"I don't know."
And after a while: "I'm hungry."
They share Katara's Big Bubbles Bubble Gum and amuse themselves with blowing bubbles in the dark and telling each other how big their respective bubbles are. Aang blows bubbles the size of a basketball, a car, an elephant and Miss Patricia - in that order. Katara yields because no one can blow bubbles that are bigger than Miss Patricia.
"I wish we could get out of here," Aand murmurs, throwing a sideways glance at where he can feel Katara's arms brush against his.
Love shines brightest in the dark. Love knows no walls. He remember all the adages about love that Gyatso is so fond off. Maybe if they...
"Umm... do you know the... legend?" Aang asks carefully.
"Which one?"
"About... the first kiss?"
Katara frowns. Yes, she knows that legend but-- she'd always hoped to safe that kiss (and that wish) for something else. Not for... getting out of a basement.
"I do," she whispers anyway.
"So if we both wish for the door to open," Aang deducts and Katara can't suppress a little sigh.
"Alright," she finally says, mentally apologizing to the Blue Spirit, even if he doesn't know that he was supposed to be her first.
She carefully reaches for Aang's face, cradling it in her hands and leans down. Her lips barely brush his (Aang forgets that he is supposed to wish for the door to open and instead wishes for something else entirely) when the door is suddenly opened.
"Aang? Katara? What are you two doing down here?"
* * * * *