Chapter Text
“Can I help you, my friend?” The Dragon of the West rounded out from behind the corner. He looked nearly the same as Zuko had last seen him, more than six years ago. The last time Zuko had seen Iroh, Iroh promised to conquer Ba Sing Se for him. Zuko could barely remember those times with his Uncle, as they felt like a lifetime ago. He had not seen anyone from his family in half a decade, and he knew none of them wanted to see him. He had been abandoned, and tossed aside.
Iroh hadn’t bothered to look for him, and instead abandoned him like the rest. His Uncle was particularly guilty of crushing Zuko’s soul, as Iroh used to emphasize the importance of family at every opportunity.
Iroh, Lu Ten and his mother were his only family, and all of them had left him. Which was fine, really, Zuko didn’t need any of them. He survived so long without them, he never needed them in the first place.
Iroh showed no signs of recognizing Zuko, which eased the weight on Zuko’s mind only slightly. The man in front of him no doubt was the infamous Dragon of the West, Zuko would remember that face anywhere, despite any physical changes his Uncle underwent. For starters, Zuko didn’t think he had ever seen Iroh in an apron, but he couldn’t be too amazed by the absurdity of it all. It could very well be a trap.
How his family would know he was here, he didn’t know. Logically, they could not set a trap for him. For all purposes, he had died that night. Zuko still didn’t know how he survived, but he knew it wasn’t out of the goodness of his father’s heart.
Zuko knew Iroh could not possibly be here for him, but Ba Sing Se was supposed to be his safe place. He was supposed to start anew, and leave Prince Zuko behind. He was supposed to be free of his past. He was even supposed to get a job at this dingy tea house so he could remake his life.
With Iroh in the city, no place on the planet was safe from his father. Zuko would never escape his past. He was trapped by his bloodline, something he never asked for.
Zuko’s breathing was shallow, and he could hear the blood pumping past his ears. His heart thumped in his chest, an odd echo resounding through his body. Everything was wrong.
Ba Sing Se was no longer safe.
He could hardly find the oxygen to gasp, let alone to breathe. His breaths were straggled, and quick. The blood rushed away from his head, leaving him a lightheaded, faint sensation.
“Breathe deeply,” His Uncle said, not unkindly. “In through your nose, out through your mouth.”
Zuko only glared in response. He knew how to breathe, he was not a child. Not anymore. Despite the longing within him, he would never allow himself to be vulnerable in front of the Fire Nation again.
“I know how to breathe,” Zuko choked out, his voice sounding strangled even to himself.
“I’m only offering help, my friend.” Iroh replied. “It’s up to you to use my advice.”
Zuko merely blinked, his brain empty of any response. It was unlike the Fire Nation to be sympathetic, and so this was extremely uncharacteristic. It was a trick, surely, but Zuko could not sense the dishonesty in his Uncle’s expression.
“I don’t need your advice.” Zuko said, the reply weak to his own ears.
“I can see that,” Iroh agreed, though Zuko was no idiot. He knew when someone was humouring him. “Perhaps I was reminding myself.”
“Out loud?” Zuko asked.
“Of course. You remember things best when you say them aloud.” His Uncle smiled, something Zuko had not seen in years.
However, Zuko could not let his guard down. If Iroh was in Ba Sing Se, it was not long before the entire city was overrun with Fire Nation soldiers. It was strange that Iroh chose to pose as a tea maker, but even the most contrived plot was fair game to the Fire Nation. Zuko had never known his Uncle to play dress up, but five years was a decently long time for a person to change.
Agni knows Zuko was not remotely the same, scar notwithstanding. Zuko was not even a firebender anymore, his spark long extinguished. Perhaps that was another reason Iroh did not immediately clock Zuko as his long dead nephew. Zuko was even more of a failure than he originally was.
After all, the only kind of firebender unable to bend was a failure.
“Sure.” Zuko replied, his voice tight. Even with the roaring atmosphere of a bustling tea house, Zuko could not relax his muscles. Iroh’s presence had thrown off his entire essence. He came here to escape, only to be faced with the shackles of his family. His father was almost certainly chuckling to himself back in the Fire Nation.
“Besides, my young friend, you said you wanted a job, if I remember correctly.” Iroh waved to another worker behind the counter, and then gestured for Zuko to follow him to an empty table. Reluctantly, Zuko followed. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to flee, but Zuko couldn’t resist learning more. If anything, a part of him wanted to see if Iroh even could recognize him. “Why don’t we discuss that? Over some tea, perhaps?”
“Alright,” Zuko grumbled. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Well, that’s certainly one way to make an impression.” Iroh chuckled, as if Zuko himself was suddenly an inside joke only his Uncle understood. “Why do you want to work here?”
“I want money.” Zuko replied, blunt as the ends of his dual swords. There was no point in speaking in circles, Zuko did not possess the talent for it, unlike Azula, or Iroh himself. “This seemed like a good place for that.”
“I suppose it would be,” Iroh mused, as he gestured to one of the other staff. He held up a cup Zuko didn’t realize he was holding, and tapped the side. This must have been some kind of code, as the other server nodded and soon returned with another cup and a teapot with some fruity, herbal tea within it. “Anything else? A passion for the art of tea making?”
“No,” Zuko replied. Truly, there was no reason to continue pursuing this sham of a job anymore. This was clearly a front for the Fire Nation, and so Zuko had no desire to work here.
If anything, he needed to consider his next best options of residency. Ba Sing Se was compromised, but it was also the last Earth Kingdom stronghold. There was no where left in the Earth Kingdom for him to hide. As far as he knew, the Southern Water Tribe had been brutalized by the Fire Nation, as Katara and Sokka spoke of destruction his people had caused. The Northern Water Tribe would never accept anyone remotely Fire Nation, after what happened recently. Zuko did not know the exact details, but he heard there had been a siege that resulted in a terrible casualty. Definitely not welcome there. He didn’t even know if he could survive the harsh climate anyways. While he was no longer a firebender, he ran hot and needed heat. The poles would be too cold.
Effectively, Ba Sing Se was his only chance of a home, and it was being ripped away from him.
“This tea here is an oolong farmed in the Southern parts of the Earth Kingdom,” Iroh poured some tea into his cup. “It has an earthy taste, and until recently, was the least popular tea on the menu.”
“No one wants to taste dirt.” Zuko replied.
“Ah, but that’s the thing, my dear friend.” Iroh sighed, as he brought the hot leaf juice to his mouth, and sipped the smallest amount out of it. “It’s an acquired taste. Truly, tea is all about how you make it. If made without love, it will taste like ‘dirt’ as you put it.”
“I don’t really care about your hot leaf juice,” Zuko was willing to take a gamble. “I don’t think this is going to work out.”
“On the contrary, I believe this will.” Iroh paused, and placed his cup on the wooden table. He placed the second cup in front of Zuko, and poured some of the tea into it. “I think you’ll be a great fit.”
“I’m not drinking that,” Zuko pushed the cup back towards Iroh. Knowing the Fire Nation, it could be poisoned.
Iroh ignored him. “You see, this was the most unpopular tea because it was lacking the right touch. I, personally, like to add some additional ingredients to spice it up.”
Zuko said nothing.
Iroh continued, despite the lack of engagement. “It would mean so much if you could try my tea. You might like it, my friend.”
Zuko frowned. Iroh was being insistent, which could only mean bad news. He wasn’t the Dragon of the West for nothing. Ruthlessness was one of his main traits. Regardless, Zuko decided to take the plunge. Perhaps this was a test to see if he was easily intimidated, and Iroh wanted him to refuse the tea.
Therefore, he had to drink the tea.
Cautiously, Zuko grabbed the tea and brought it to his lips. The scent was overpowering, but not all together unpleasant. He sipped the hot liquid, relatively surprised by the flavour. The tea was not earthy like his Uncle had described. Rather, it was tangy with a small after taste of a spice Zuko could not name, but was altogether familiar.
“I like to add this spice commonly sold in the Fire Nation, if you could believe that.”
The tea flew out of Zuko’s lips. The remaining liquid flooded his throat, blocking his esophagus. As he choked for a few moments, his face turning a deep scarlet shade, Iroh simply stared and sipped on his tea, with the occasional word of encouragement.
“Keep coughing, my friend.” He would add, unhelpfully. “Sometimes, the only way to cleanse the spirit is to cough up whatever darkness is choking you.”
Zuko didn’t even remotely understand what that meant. At least his Uncle maintained the useless proverbs. Zuko coughed again, his throat finally clearing. “Fire Nation spice?”
“Oh yes,” Iroh hummed. “It’s not very common in these parts, but I have my ways. I find it adds a unique flavour to the otherwise Earthy tea.”
“Why are you using Fire Nation spice?” Zuko narrowed his eyes. Despite his Uncle’s otherwise friendly demeanor, he could not forget that this man led the 600 day siege on the city he currently lived in, and hopefully would forever.
Iroh placed his cup on the rickety wood table. “The tea is far more popular now. Though, I have heard there is a bit of an aftertaste when people try it for the first time.”
Zuko didn't deign to reply. Instead, his eyes trailed Iroh’s every move, no matter how subtle or sly.
Iroh continued, seemingly ignoring Zuko’s apparent discomfort. “Over time, the tea loses its strong aftertaste once the drinker is used to the spice. You see, the Earth Kingdom does not use it in its dishes.”
“Where is this going?” Zuko muttered, arms crossed against his chest. “I don’t care about spices.”
“As it is not commonly used, the first time someone drinks my improved version of this tea…they often complain about the spiciness.” Iroh gently placed the cup on the table, and met Zuko’s accusatory gaze. “The only people who do not, are people who have either drank the tea before, or have eaten the spice before.”
Zuko’s mind blanked.
“You’ve never been to this tea house before, my boy.” Iroh said, his voice soft as if speaking to a spooked animal. As if Zuko was going to bolt at any moment, and honestly he just might. Whether Iroh meant it or not, all Zuko could hear was the condescension dripping from each word. It reminded him of the rest of his family, with their air of superiority and clear sense of disdain for Zuko. “And you didn’t react to the spice.”
Iroh had figured him out because of a stupid cup of tea. If this weren’t so dire, Zuko would almost find it funny. The stupid hot leaf juice did end up ruining his life.
Iroh would figure out his identity, and then turn him into the Fire Nation. He would be exectued for treason in the best case scenario, with the worst case being something between locked underground for years without the sun, or left to Azula's mercy. He needed to escape. His Uncle was onto him; the life he built for years was slipping from his grasp. How long before Azula found him? Or worse, his father?
“This means nothing,” Zuko hissed, his face hot. He lowered his voice until he was sure only Iroh would hear his next words. “Are you threatening to report me, General?”
“General?” Iroh asked, his voice wistful as if reminiscing. “No one has called me that in some time.”
“I don’t want to play your games,” Zuko spat, his fists balled at his sides. “Let me go and I promise you will never see me again. I don’t know what your plan is, but I want no part in it.”
“Plan?” Iroh repeated. “You’ll find my plan is rather simple. I want to make tea.”
“Make tea?” Zuko said, doubt colouring his words. “I’m not a fool, General.”
“The only foolish thing here is you refusing to accept my offer of employment! I mean, the Lee Family Tea House is quite the establishment.” Iroh sighed. “You would fit the atmosphere perfectly. You have quite the face for customer service.”
Zuko snarled. He didn’t find Iroh’s comments concerning his face to be amusing in the slightest. He knew he was scarred and damaged , he didn’t need his Uncle to rub it in.
“Ah,” Iroh paused, seemingly sensing the anger permeating off of Zuko. “I didn’t mean it like that, my young friend. Us refugees need to stick up for each other, not tear each other down. You bear the scars of your journey well, and with pride. I would never mock you for that.”
“You don’t know me or my life, old man." Zuko didn't know where this latent confidence was coming from, but it was not helping him choose the right words. If anything, he could see why he was so muted for most of his life. Something about this man brought out the worst in him; both Iroh and the Avatar's group had the same effect.
“Maybe you could change that, hmm?” Iroh asked, noncommittedly. “I think we would make great friends.”
“There is no war in Ba Sing Se,” Zuko whispered, the threat spilling from his mouth too fast for him to think it through. “I want to keep it that way.”
“As do I, my boy.” Iroh agreed, a warm smile occupying his face. If Zuko didn’t know the ruthlessness of his own family, he wouldn’t see the manipulative mastermind before him for what Iroh was. His entire family was full of snakes.
“I think you’ll find we are more alike than we seem,” Iroh said, as he gently blew on his tea. Zuko knew the gesture was useless, a facade more than anything. No tea was hot enough to burn the Dragon of the West. Usually, nothing was hot enough to burn a firebender, let alone a skilled one. As if summoned, sharp bolts of pain webbed through Zuko's scar.
Iroh smiled, and if Zuko didn't know the Fire Nation royal family as well as he did, he'd have assumed it was anything close to genuine. “I think this will be a beautiful friendship.”
“You just met me.” Zuko deadpanned. “And I haven’t been the most promising candidate. Or the most respectful. Hardly someone to hire for a tea shop.”
“Maybe so,” Iroh said, a wistful grin on his face. “But I think with enough care, even the most withered plant can bloom once more.”
“I’m not a plant,” Zuko frowned. He had no use for stupid proverbs. “And why do you care so much? I’m someone you just met.”
Not true in the slightest, but Iroh didn’t know that. If Zuko had his way, Iroh would never know of their shared past. That was a secret that died with Prince Zuko, outside of Ba Sing Se. In here, he was Li, and would only ever be Li for the rest of his existence. Besides, Prince Zuko as he was is barely a footnote in history. The Failed Prince, they would call him. The Useless Son.
“You remind me of someone I lost long ago,” Iroh said simply, the cup of tea gently hovering by his lips. He paused, as if a memory had overtaken him. “I figured you could use a friend, just like he did.”
Iroh wasn't sly in the slightest, Zuko knew who he was thinking of immediately. Lu Ten was nothing like Zuko, so Zuko didn't know where Iroh found similarities. Lu Ten was beloved and a wonderful person. Zuko would never be either of those things. Even if he never hurt another person again, Zuko caused destruction where he went. Oftentimes, usually before sleeping, Zuko would be reminded of Surin or Kendri or Song and the countless others he ruined to survive. It seems selfishness is genetic, and something Zuko inherited from his father. Perhaps one of the only things he did.
“I don’t need friends.” Zuko said, as he turned his back to his Uncle. He hadn’t needed friends for years, he wasn’t going to start now. He was just fine on his own. “And I don’t want them either.”
“Ah, but everyone could use friends!” Iroh cheered, the noise startling Zuko out of his seat. Iroh gestured back at the bench for Zuko to sit down again. “Besides, even if you’re not amenable to friendship, you could use a job, no?”
Zuko didn’t bother answering the question. He refused to give Iroh the satisfaction. In some twisted way, his uncle was lauding his position over Zuko as if to say that even if Zuko quit being a firebender and prince, he was still a failure in every other part of life as well. Zuko was starting to think “Zuko” was synonymous with mistake.
“I think this could be a beneficial arrangement.” Iroh said. “It’s been so long since I’ve spoken to someone of my culture. It’s refreshing.”
“I’m not of that culture,” Zuko spat. “I haven’t been since I got this scar.”
Iroh did not outwardly react to the mention of the scar permanently mottling Zuko’s face, but he did momentarily pause, as if searching for the right words. No matter what proverb he used, Zuko’s pain would persevere. The scar marked him as a failure, a mistake. No words could change that. Besides, Li wasn’t Fire Nation anymore than Aang or Toph were; there would be no sentimental bonding over a country that rejected him.
“Scars are unfortunate, but they make us who we are.” Iroh said, his eyes boring into Zuko’s. “Besides, I’m sure you can understand that not everyone back home would do that to you.”
“It marks me as a failure,” Zuko replied, his eyes narrowing as much as they could. “Rightfully. I am no more Fire Nation than the Avatar is.”
“The Avatar is of every nation, my friend. Even the bad ones.” Iroh smiled, yet again. He wore the skin of a kindly old man well. But underneath the facade, a dragon roared, and Zuko would not get burned again. "You can start next week. I have a feeling you aren't quite skilled with tea making yet, so you will work the counter."
"I'm not going to show up," Zuko sprung up from his seat, and strumbled somewhat as his legs were a little numb. Zuko caught the edge of the table to balance himself, and he finally noticed how much he had sweat throughout the meeting. Clearly, he didn't hide his nerves as well as he thought. "I want nothing to do with you."
"You were the one who asked for the interview, my friend!" Iroh laughed, as if Zuko was a joke. Honestly, Zuko could almost agree. He was a joke. Just not a funny one. "I will see you next week!"
As Zuko raced to the exit, he yelled, "No, you won't!"
Unfortunately for Zuko, he did show up the next week.
And the week afterwards.
"Can I have some chai?" The ninth customer of the day asked. "Or wait, can I have a chai latte? Or better yet, a chai latte with chocolate and whipped cream?"
Zuko rubbed his forehead, a headache already making itself known. "You can have a cup of chai, but I'm not doing the rest of that stuff."
"So you don't recommend the chai flavour? What about oolong?" The customer continued, oblivious to the fumes practically pouring from Zuko's ears. "I'm not usually an oolong fan, but everyone says this tea house is the best in Ba Sing Se-"
"It's tea." Zuko explained, "It's not that good."
"Oh." The man paused. "How about your coffee then?"
Zuko promptly slammed his head against the counter.
"This is how I heat the tea," Iroh grabbed some rocks, and placed them under a pot of water. "Officially, anyways."
"I don't care how you heat the water." Zuko said, extremely unimpressed. "Tea is disgusting."
"Unofficially," Iroh continued, not even bothering to acknowledge Zuko's comment, "This is how I heat it."
Iroh placed his hand on the pot, and slowly, the black of the metal melted into an angry orange-red along the edges of his fingertips. The water boiled in Iroh's hands, already at the perfect temperature.
"I still don't care." Zuko replied. "And why are you doing that out in the open?"
"I'd hardly say the back of the tea house is out in the open, my friend." Iroh replied, as if chastising a child.
"There's a window right there."
"Which green tea would you recommend?" Another customer asked, as if Zuko had any knowledge of teas. Just because he worked in a tea house did not mean he actually cared about or liked the stuff.
"None of them."
"Where do you go after work, my boy?" Iroh asked. "Do you live nearby?"
"Where I live is none of your business." Zuko snapped. In reality, he was still living with the Freedom Fighters, though he tried to stay there for only three hours max. He understood that he needed somewhere to sleep, but he had no desire to talk to Jet, something which inevitably happens when you live with him.
However, Iroh asking about his habits was strange, he didn't usually pry. Was he finally going to kidnap Zuko and hand him over to the Fire Nation?
"My apartment has an extra room, and while it isn't spacious, I'm certainly not the worst roommate." Iroh offered, rather offhandedly as if talking about the weather.
"You want me to live with you?" Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose, yet another headache coming onto him.
The idea of living with Iroh was pure insanity; Iroh was the enemy. Everything Zuko worked for over the past six or so years of his life could easily be ruined if Iroh caught onto his true identity. However, it had been five weeks since the interview, and Iroh hadn't said a word about the royal family or the war. Rather, he talked about tea, or his travels, or he offered useless proverbs. While Zuko didn't trust him in the slightest, Iroh hadn't done anything untrustworthy beyond his past.
While Zuko couldn't bring himself to bond or be nice to Iroh, Iroh treated him like family. Or, what Zuko assumed family must usually be like. He had faint memories of Lu Ten, his mother and even Iroh himself from the before but it had been so long he had forgotten what easy companionship was like. He saw the same bonds within the Avatar's group, and they had scared him even then. The promise of warmth was something Zuko never bothered to think about, but it was sitting idly in his palm, waiting for him to tighten his grasp.
Beyond that, living with Jet was so unpleasant Zuko might even be biased towards Iroh. The rational part of his brain screamed that this was a trap, but the rational part of his brain also focused on Zuko's past as a Prince. As Li, maybe this would be a good arrangement.
"Just something to consider."
Zuko officially moved out of the Freedom Fighters' apartment the next week.
"You're leaving?" Jet demanded. "You can't just leave! We have to fight for our freedom. It's in our name. It's in our blood."
"Look Jet," Zuko sighed. Somehow, he knew this confrontation would happen. "I don't care about the war. We live in Ba Sing Se. There is no war here."
"You can't just abandon the cause," Jet hissed. "We have a responsibility."
"There is no war here, Jet. I'm not going to fight just to get killed for no reason. We're safe here."
"We aren't safe until every last Fire Nation scum is dead," Jet continued. "Besides, where are you going? We're the only people you know here."
"I'm moving in with a coworker, it's more convenient." Zuko replied, though he knew logically Jet didn't need to know any details. "Jet, you're acting like I'm dying. You'll see me around the city eventually."
Which was unfortunate for Zuko because he really didn't want to run into Jet again, but it was bound to happen.
"You're making a mistake, Li." Jet warned, because words were all he could really do; Jet was mostly bark, and little bite. Definintely nothing Li couldn't handle. "You're letting your talents go to waste."
"And your letting your life waste away," Zuko responded, as he walked towards the door. He had pretty much all his stuff on hand, including his swords. He didn't know how Iroh would react to those, but he hardly felt Iroh would question them. Zuko regretted not saying a proper goodbye to Longshot or Smellerbee, but he knew they would understand. "At least I'm making tea."
Living with Iroh wasn't unpleasant, or anything foreign; if anything, it seemed all too natural. Zuko fell into a routine easily, and he had to admit that he enjoyed the strange familiarity.
"Do you guys have an Avatar special?" A particularly annoying woman asked, for the third time. "Like, the Avatar specialty tea?"
"I don't even know what that is!"
"Hi," A girl, presumably around Zuko's age, stepped in front of the counter. Zuko had seen her often around the tea shop, and would usually catch her staring at him. While her staring never felt malicious, Zuko knew better than to trust how things appeared. Some small part of him was convinced she knew he was Fire Nation, or a criminal, and was trying to confirm her suspicions. "My name's Jin."
"How does that relate to tea?" Zuko replied. Iroh peeked out from where he was making tea in the back, and slowly made his way out to the front. Oftentimes Iroh would joke around about the girls in the tea house to Zuko, despite Zuko not caring in the slightest.
He didn't care who ordered the tea, he barely cared about why.
"What's your name?" She asked, her voice very sweet. Almost too sweet, but Zuko didn't think she was faking it. The sweetness was like sugar, but it didn't seem artificial.
"Li," He responded, unsure why she cared. "How do you like your tea?"
The girl looked him over before taking a deep breath, impressively deep even for a firebender like Iroh or even Zuko himself. "Wannagooutonadatewithme?"
Zuko blinked. "Huh?"
JIn blushed a dark red. "Would you like to go on a date with me?"
"No-"
"Yes, he would love to!" Iroh pushed Zuko over to the side before he could finish his rejection. "He'll see you soon."
Jin was nice. Nicer than she should be to someone like Zuko, who was more than a little rough around the edges.
"What do you like to do for fun?" She asked as they strolled the barely lit city. "Any hobbies?"
"I can use swords," He replied. "I also enjoy the theatre."
"Really?" Her eyes lit up. "What's your favourite play?"
"I used to really enjoy Love Amongst the Dragons," Zuko said before he could properly think of an Earth Kingdom play. Luckily, Jin didn't seem to notice the Fire Nation name. "But I saw a terrible production of it and it ruined the play for me."
"I know what you mean," Jin sighed. "I used to love walking around this fountain, but they barely light the lanterns anymore."
Zuko frowned. Jin was right, the lanterns were barely lit. It would take almost no effort to light them again with firebending, but Zuko didn't think he could. Not because Jin would see, but because he had lost his connection to his inner flame.
The rest of the night was enjoyable, but Zuko couldn't shake the abstract loneliness that followed him.
It was a fairly unassuming day when Jet burst in, to Zuko's abject dismay. He crashed into the shop, with his sword out and a crazed look in his eye. Zuko had only seen him like this when they spoke of the Fire Nation, firebenders in particular. This was a deeply ingrained hatred, something bone deep. It twisted Jet's soul into something ugly, and until recent, Zuko could say the same about himself. Perhaps not in terms of hated, but rather in terms of fear.
Zuko feared one day Jet would discover his ethnicity, but he knew it was always going to happen eventually. He wished the tea house would have nothing to do with it, but he knew the fight was unavoidable.
"This tea house is harbouring a firebender," Jet pointed his sword past Zuko, towards the back where Iroh resided. Zuko released a small breath of air, but the anxiety inside him didn't dissipate. Rather, it shifted onto Iroh.
“I saw that man heat his tea!” Jet roared. “He’s a firebender!”
“This is a tea shop,” Zuko replied. “He’s supposed to heat the tea.”
“He used his hands to do it!” Jet approached a table of three, and banged his fist against it. The sound echoed throughout the restaurant, alerting every patron to the unwanted visitor. "He's an ashmaker."
"Jet, back off." Zuko's hands itched for his swords. They should be somewhere in the back, but nowhere close to the counter. "You don't need to fight."
"Why are you defending him, Li?" Jet asked. "I saw him use firebending in your apartment!"
"You've been spying on me?" Zuko's eyes widened. "What's wrong with you?"
"It doesn't matter how I found out, he's still a firebender." Jet leveled his sword until it matched Zuko's eye level. "Stop protecting him."
Finally, Iroh stepped out of the back. "My friend is just confused, young man. I heat tea by boiling the water, not with firebending."
"I know what I saw," Jet seethed. "Come out and fight me like a man, firebender. I am not afraid of your kind."
"Jet, stop it." Zuko hissed. The customers in the store watched the event unfold in a quiet sort of detachment. "Leave us alone."
"Us? You're helping the ashmaker?" Jet spat. "I'm trying to help you, Li. But I see how it is. You're a Fire Nation sympathizer."
"There isn't a war here, Jet." Zuko sighed. He shifted his foot, and it clanged against something metal.
His swords.
Iroh must've placed them beside him when he came out from the back. Iroh didn't ask why Zuko carried them around, though he did make it known that he didn't approve.
("We live in Ba Sing Se, my friend." Iroh said. "We do not need such weapons."
"Speak for yourself." Zuko had replied.)
While Zuko had no desire to fight, he kicked the swords up into the air. He needed to talk Jet down, or defeat him quickly, because this was not staying under the radar, as the strange man in nearly all black had said. With the threat of expulsion from Ba Sing Se looming overhead, Zuko was hesitant to truly fight Jet, but the threat from Jet was far more pressing. He could claim self defense, if it came to.
Zuko leapt over the counter, and clashed his swords against Jet's. Clearly, Jet had not been expecting this outcome as he stumbled backwards, and needed to regain his footing. Jet was by no means a skilled swordsman either; this gave Zuko the opportunity to push Jet backwards towards the exit, and onto the street. The two of them danced around each other for what felt like forever; Jet was unskilled with the weapon, but Zuko didn't want to harm him all that much, so the match was relatively even.
When men dressed similarly to the Dai Li agent from before stepped in to stop their fight, Zuko could almost see his life slipping away. However, it wasn't him they dragged away. Rather, they dragged a screaming Jet away into the darkness, and Zuko had a horrible feeling that he would never see Jet again. When he returned to his spot behind the counter, the offputting feeling had not yet fled.
Zuko was so caught up in his thoughts he hardly noticed when Iroh kept glancing at his swords, or when he fumbled around with a pai sho tablet he kept in his pocket. If Zuko had noticed, he would have caught the unmistakable understanding on Iroh's face.