Chapter Text
The first thing he becomes aware of his the pain. There's movement to his left, some fingers brushing over his face, his cheek to be exact - but that's all secondary to the stabbing, burning sensation in his gut that feels like someone tried stab him repeatedly with a blunt butter knife, scrambling all his insides until nothing but a hollowed out shell was supposed to be left of him.
Zuko blinks with unfocusing eyes.
Something blue is obscuring his vision before it is gone again, then there's another touch somewhere - he can't focus enough to discern where he's even being touched - but that's unimportant to the sudden realization that his face is no longer covered up.
That the mask is gone takes a sudden priority in his mind - even before all the pain he's feeling - making him try to focus on his surroundings, trying to keep his awareness in this very moment and not letting himself be dragged back into unconsciousness.
Zuko wants to move, wants to do something but there is a sudden burning sensation that ripples through his body, slamming into his senses with such an intensity that he suddenly wishes he was back to being passed out. Zuko tries to breath to the onslaught of pain - but only a raspy strangled sound comes out of him.
"Easy- " an unfamiliar voice says from his left.
There are fingers on his face again and Zuko wheezes at the stinging sensation on his cheek as he tries to jerk his head away.
The blue is back in his vision for a moment - already gone before he realized it was there and Zuko blinks, willing his eyes to focus on the ceiling above him but he's only getting blinded by bright lights of the lamp there.
He has no mask. It had cracked earlier - not fully but enough to burry splinters in the ruined side of his face with it - he doesn't even care about this but Zuko knows this is a huge problem even if he can't concentrate enough to recall why that is.
Where is he even? He must be somewhere inside but that's all that wants to register in his brain for now.
The blue is back in his vision yet again and suddenly Zuko realizes that it's a pair of eyes looking at him with concern - and with that, the rest of the face those absurdly blue eyes belongs to, comes into focus.
There's a strange man he's never seen before leaning over him - dark hair falling messily in his face, a light stubble on an unshaven jaw, a smear of blood on his cheek.
Zuko blinks again.
"You there?" The man ask in a soft voice and Zuko should be surprised that he could even hear him over his own labored breathing so loud in his ears.
The man moves his hand in front of Zuko's eyes. Zuko tries to reach up, to slap the hand away but his arm just won't cooperate and another pathetic whimpering sound escapes him when he jostles what must be some other injury he hadn't even notices.
The man cards his hand through his hair - more stands falling into his face - and then he leaves Zuko's sight of vision. There are various sounds but Zuko can't see what the man is doing.
"Okay. Don't freak out. Just don't freak out. You got this Sokka- just... What would Katara do?"
Zuko blinks back at the blinding ceiling - listening to the man mutter more words he doesn't understand - just who is that and where is he? Where is his mask? If the man can see his face, can recognize who Zuko is, that can only mean word will certainly get back to -
Zuko yells out in pain, at the sudden sensation on his side - his arms flies blindly to claw at the man - a wet feeing between his fingers - to get him off from him, to get him away from Zuko, to just make him stop -
"Sorry! Sorry- Just trying to to stop the bleeding - Katara said that's how you-" The man babbles on and his tone takes on a hysterical edge and only then does Zuko realizes he must have talked to himself the whole time.
Zuko suddenly starts to feel even more lightheaded - his stomach churning nauseous.
"Hey, hey! don't pass out on me again. I'm just... please don't pass out! Okay, let me just... I'm going to keep talking - concentrate on my voice."
Zuko closes his eyes as he bears through the pain - listening to the warm timber as more words spiked with anxiety wash over Zuko. There is nothing endearing about the situation but somehow a chuckle wants to make its way up Zuko's throat.
The man suddenly trails off and he stops talking and Zuko opens his eyes again - only to be met with a frowning face and two blue eyes peering down at him with concern. "Okay- you had me worried for a second. I mean... More worried but. Good. No passing out happening, that's good, right? I just...I keep talking, so- Looks like I just lost a bet. I thought you'd be some middle aged bored cop, going through a midlife-crisis or some shit like that. But you're er... like- handsome? Under that mask of yours? Huh. Wait let me- "
The man starts to jostle Zuko around - hands feeling like they are suddenly everywhere and Zuko wants to claw at him again to get away from it - but... he has to focus on not biting through his tongue at the damn pain that leaves him gasping for air.
Zuko stares at the ceiling instead - wondering what is just happening to him and - The artificial light is so blinding - but does that mean it's still somewhere in the middle of the night? So it can't have been to long since he went out - can it?
It suddenly comes all back to him as he regains more clarity on his situation. Hearing about the last shipment from his father's men. Covering his tracks and stalking out Zhao's warehouse. And yet... walking straight into that ambush. He just hopes they haven't figured out it is him or they will...
The man is leaning over his face again. "I guess you don't want me to call an ambulance for you?"
Zuko tries to shake his head. If he shows up anywhere with this injuries, everyone will know what he's done... he would be as good as death.
The man nods, cards his hands through his hair again - making it look even messier and for a moment he looks so fully overwhelmed. It makes him seem so young and- how old is he anyway? Twenty? Twenty-five? Maybe some baby-faced thirty-something. In the state Zuko's mind is in right now he can't even tell. But at least, Zuko doesn't recognize him as one of his father's men and maybe that's a good sign. On the hand... he walked right into the ambush. Zuko doesn't think he should trust his instincts this moment for much of anything.
Zuko makes a try to sit up but he doesn't get far and only groans instead. Everything aches and hurts and the burning sensation in his gut feels like it's stealing him all the air to breath.
"Stop. Don't move- let me just- here. Now I'm finished with wrapping it all up. Katara would tell me it's a sloppy job but then she isn't here to criticize my work and I think she should be proud of me for even listening to her talking about all that medical stuff- "
Zuko manages, with lots of concentration to bring his fingers to his stomach and can feel a bandage on the wounded side. He let's out a shaky breath. Zuko hasn't a single cue who this Katara is but it seems he has to thank her for the man's successful attempt to stop the bleeding the whole time - who, meanwhile never stopped talking.
" - that's what I get for bringing some wounded man back to my place. Good job Sokka, Toph's gonna laugh her ass off when I tell her that that's how I met the blue spirit, just who- "
Zuko frowns. He's still feeling so lighthearted but he tries to concentrate on the actual words because maybe he can figure out just where he is and if he's still in any kind of danger he needs to get out of here as soon as possible.
The man- Sokka? Just keeps talking, not expecting any input from Zuko. " -and if I'd met someone like you, say at the grocery store I would never be able to guess that you are him- but then if I'd met you at the grocery store I'd fully embarrass myself trying to get your number, so maybe it's good that I wouldn't be able to tell. Bad enough to get told to get lost because I only ever manage some awkward flirting but humiliating myself in front of the blue spirit? You are like a hero. But then, my friend Aang always says - "
Zuko blinks back at the ceiling. The pain feels like it's already dulling somewhat. His finger's fall back to his side - touching something soft under him. There is still a sticky wet feeling to it.
"Are you..." Zuko rasps out and the man instantly snaps his mouth shut - finally stopping his hysteric rambling with it. He must be surprised that Zuko is coherent enough to say anything at all and he leans forward to fully capture the rest of Zuko's slurred words.
"... trying to hit on me while I'm bleeding out on your carpet?"
The man gives him a bewildered look. "... I have hardwood floors. That's a towel."
Somehow - Zuko thinks - this doesn't feel like the weirdest thing about the whole situation and something about the absurdity of it all makes him laugh - which immediately turns into pained groan but Zuko thinks it still counts.
"Shit, dude- " the man starts again and he looks so lost for a moment. "I think you owe me like, five new towels because there is no way I will ever get them clean again. And what were you even doing - the news always make it sound so heroic but you just spend your Saturday nights casually bleeding out on some stranger's living room floor for fun? I think you need a better hobby. I heard knitting is great - way less stabby despite the needles."
"-do you.. ever -shut up?" Zuko ask, still panting after each word.
"Sorry. Just a bit overwhelmed. My sister would be better with that stuff. She's a - doesn't matter. Can I... Call anyone for you?"
Zuko shakes his head and groans when the sudden motion makes him dizzy. "No- body can know I am... here. Or I'll be death- you most likely too."
"Geez dude. Way to ruin the mood- Fine no calls. Anything else or- wait." The man gets up - followed by multiple sounds Zuko can't place - before he returns a moment later.
"Here- some water?" He doesn't wait for an answer - just helps Zuko up into a more upright position and holds out a glass for him.
Zuko takes a sip - he hadn't even realized how dry his throat had felt.
"So, no calls and no ambulance and nobody can know that you are here?" He asks as he takes the glass back.
Zuko exhales slowly - he's still feeling fully drained but nothing to be done now. "Just give me a moment and you will be rid of me again."
"Don't be stupid." The man pauses. "Don't be more stupid - getting stabbed, at least I guess it was a stab-wound, should be right up there - but you are not leaving like that on your own... How about, you stay here- you can even have my bed and early tomorrow I will call my sister to check you over - because she owns me like, six favors - no questions ask and no-one will ever know you were here."
Zuko doesn't answer - but the guy helps him up to standing and starts manhandling him somewhere deeper inside the apartment - without even waiting for one anyway. They walk slowly until they are inside a bedroom and as soon as Zuko's shins touches the edges of the bed he falls onto the mattress face first without his conscious mind telling him to wait - he still winches when his side doesn't agree with the sudden motion.
"Yeah... Good thing I didn't let you leave and... I think you owe me a new blanket now too."
Zuko hums and he sluggish blinks up at the man.
"I'm Sokka by the way. Feels weird if you don't know my name while I'm having you in my bed- wait! No, that sounds wrong- I wasn't trying to... Just. Never mind. And you?" he waits but Zuko only closes his eyes.
Zuko might be feeling really out of it but he isn't that far gone to give out his name. That would be a stupid unnecessary risk - even if this... this Sokka has probably saved his live.
"Right, okay. So. I'll take the couch. Call if you need anything." Sokka leaves - muttering something about never getting his disposal back - but Zuko doesn't notice because he is already back to being blissfully passed out.
~
When Zuko is nineteen, Azula convinces him that they should take one of father's many precious cars - a deep red jaguar with more horse power then should be ever safe to drive for Zuko - and one, that Zuko is fully convinced, father loves more than him and Azula both. Zuko is reluctant at first with stealing the car - "It's called lending, we are bringing it back, Zuzu." - just so Azula and her friends can attend a house-party of some guy he has never met - but he easily carves when Azula tells him a handful of things he likes to hear. All lies of course but it's nice to pretend.
Zuko sits the whole night outside on the cool asphalt of the driveway to the mansion, just tucked away from view of the entrance stairs, knees bend, never taking his eyes off the car as he nervously smokes one cigarette after the other with shaking hands.
The sound of the awful pop-music getting louder and immediately dimming again tells him that someone has stepped outside the front door - and shortly after, the voices of Azula and the boy named Chan are getting carried down to him - confirming it.
The next few minutes make it clear that Azula's goal all along was to impress the boy. Zuko exhales another smoky breath - pretending to be elsewhere just so he doesn't have to suffer Azula's awkward tries to flirt with Chan. He should feel sorry for the boy - he has yet to realize who Azula is - who they are - has yet to realize that he doesn't stand a single chance if Azula decides she likes him...
But Chan doesn't.
When Azula comes down the stairs, she is in a really specific mood. She stops right at the bottom when she spots Zuko sitting there - and after such a humiliating rejection - Zuko will best just pretend that he hasn't heard even a single thing.
"There are going to be other boys," he stupidly says to her and Azula's eyes flash at him in just the way that tells him that it was the wrong moment to not keeping his mouth shut... but Zuko was never good at keeping it shut anyway.
"I'm leaving," Azula snaps at him as she steps close enough to rip the car keys out of his tight grip. Zuko will later blame it on his jittering hands, but they both know that there are a lot of things that he let Azula get away with - and maybe one of these days he will need to find an outlet to deal with all these emotions he has stored up - but at that time it's neither here nor there.
"What about Ty Lee and Mai?"
Azula marches over - across the the driveway towards the car - fully ignoring Zuko.
"Fine, let me just- " Zuko get's up and flicks his cigarette to the floor, crushing it with his heels, putting out the fire.
Azula doesn't wait for even a second and the start of the engine of father's highly priced car alerts Zuko - startling him with the blinding headlight that suddenly illuminates the driveway and along with it him.
Azula slowly pulls the car out of it's parking spot - has she ever been behind a wheel before this, he wonders - until Zuko is fully in the center of the headlights.
The motor roars once.
"Azula- That's not funny," he calls - not sure if she can even hear him. Zuko is aware how Azula can be when she is in a mood and maybe he really should learn how to shut his mouth - past lessons apparently didn't stick. Zuko only itches to light another cigarette.
The motor roars again and this time Zuko does fully freeze.
... no... Azula wouldn't.
But if there is one thing that Zuko knows about his fucked up family, it's this - getting away with anything - any crime, even murder - although Azula will just claim it was an accident since she isn't even legally allowed to drive yet - is just so damn fucking easy if you have the right family name to back it up.
And apparently... Azula would.
For an instance Zuko can see images of his sad, miserable life flashing by in the lightning fast approaching blinding lights that keeps him frozen on the spot - bracing for the impact - right before Azula hits the breaks and the car comes to sudden halt with squeaking tires - just stopping inches before him.
"What The Fuck Azula!" He yells, loud enough to overhear the racing of his heart and the blood rushing in his ears.
He's so sure he's has to smoke a whole pack later.
Azula throws open the door with a crackle. "You should have seen your face!" She says way too bemused as she skips around the car towards the passenger side.
It takes a bit to shake himself out of his stupor, before he steps towards the driver's side, getting inside too.
"That wasn't funny."
"Oh come on, you really need to learn how to take a joke, Zuzu," Azula says bored, her eyes already glued on her phone, waiting for him to bring them back home.
Yeah. There is nothing more funny than joking about running each other over - because observing how others answer their bitter emotions with violence is just expected at this point - and Zuko has heard and seen more tasteless jokes from his father's 'business-partners' anyway - he just doesn't need for Azula to start with that too.
~
When Zuko wakes up - the first thing that strangely comes to his mind is the night Azula almost ran him over with their father's car so many years ago. It figures, Zuko guesses - because he certainly feels like he got hit by a truck right now.
He carefully sits up with a groan, feeling sluggish and fuzzy - trying to ignore the sharp sensation in his gut - as he takes in the unfamiliar small bedroom he finds himself in - the soft light filtering through the blinds telling Zuko it must be already past sunrise.
There's the bed of course - red spots on a blue bedding which only means he must have bleed through his bandages. Then there's also a huge foto-collage next to the bed, a chair in the corner with clothing thrown messily over it and between the door and the window a dresser - fully cluttered on top.
Zuko takes a moment to collect his breath before he makes an attempt at getting up - he still has to inhale sharply and for a moment black spots dance before his eyes - his hand finding placement on the wall offering him support. He knows it will pass in a moment from past experiences.
Zuko's eyes land on the pictures - he can immediately recognize the man who's bedroom he is standing in - Sheng? Sato... Er- Spencer? Just what did he say, his name was? It doesn't matter - the bright blue eyes are an easy giveaway.
There are many more people depicted, a lot of friends, some that could be related - but everyone an unfamiliar face and inconspicuous to Zuko - nobody who seems to have any connections to his father and his cronies from what he can tell.
He exhales.
Zuko takes another step further into the room and he has to take another breath because he's getting lighthearted just from standing longer than a few minutes - as he replaces the support on the wall with the edge of the dresser.
There is nothing of interest for him there between the mess on top and he pulls the top drawer open without thinking too hard about it - immediately moving the stuff inside around.
Zuko only finds socks, shirts and boxers - a pair of sunglasses, a pack of chewing gum, two books on poetry and - is that seriously a package... of dried jerky?
What psychopath keeps jerky next to their socks? Zuko closes the first drawer with some horror and opens the other two - but they aren't really better so before he gets the idea that he should start to tidy up - he quickly grabs a clean looking hoody at random.
It takes a bit - getting out of his disgusting ratty and torn black shirt is a small feat - mostly because it sticks uncomfortable to his skin and moving fucking hurts and pulling over the hoody even more so - maybe he's going to swing by Mai later so she can even help him change the bandage - but once he's done with getting redressed, he doesn't look like he got himself mugged any longer... or like he unsuccessfully mugged someone else.
Zuko takes a step so he can quickly glance out between the binds to see if he can tell where exactly he is - somewhere on the fourth floor if he were to guess and probably still somewhere near the port.
He gives the rest of the room one last glance, wondering if he should make the bed - but the room is messy enough and not even some pulled back blanket would make a difference - so he opens the door and steps into a tiny hallway.
Zuko has to take another small break, already heaving as he leans on the wall because he's getting so dizzy again - but he pushes on, ignoring the ajar door to - which would have to be the bathroom and he steps into the living space right across the bedroom.
There is a small kitchenette to his right - surprisingly really, sparkly clean and uncluttered compared to the rest he saw - compared to the rest he sees right there.
The room is worse- which in this case is somehow Zuko's fault. There are bloody towels all over the floor. Supplies of an open and emptied first aid kit thrown everywhere - halfway under the counter and the coffee table - some more clutter that must have already been there and admits all this - the man that most likely saved Zuko's life, curled up on a small couch - looking exhausted and still deeply asleep.
Zuko pulls his hand away from the wall and steels himself - he just has to cross the room without getting too dizzy, leaving as silently as possible as to not wake... - Shang, maybe?
He is almost successful when he reaches the front door but then his foot kicks against something hard - he looses balance and stumbles against the door with a curse.
His head wipes back to Maybe-Shang - hoping he hasn't stirred - is still asleep, but when did Zuko ever have any kind of luck-
Probably-Shang on the couch - blanket tucked under his chin and there is still some blood on his cheek but he's clearly awake now - blinks startled back at Zuko, who - still panting from the exhaustion of having walked more than a handful of steps, dressed in a light-blue hoodie that obviously doesn't belong to him - stares wordlessly back.
Neither says anything.
Zuko tears his eyes away for a second, just to see over what he had stumbled and when he looks down-
There is his blue mask.
Right there, next to the door and a witted potted plant that most likely has already died. Here, in the messy apartment of the stranger that saved Zuko's life because Zuko had gotten so overconfident that nobody would ever catch him and yet...
There is a deep crack on one side. The faceless mask staring lifelessly back up at Zuko and...
Maybe this should be his wake up call. He has been so stupid - it was only luck until now that he managed to not get caught - but if the last night is anything to go by... It's only because he was such a minor inconvenience until now and nobody had yet bothered to try enough. And unless this stranger talks - unless he happens to know who Zuko is... maybe no-one will ever figure out that Zuko - son of the most dangerous man in the city - the country even, if some are to believed - and the blue spirit are one and the same.
...he coincidentally realizes they must think that they have finally taken him out after everything that went down last night - his father's men. Nobody would ever have to know now.
The man daws his attention again when he slowly lifts himself up into a sitting position as he regards Zuko with an unreadable face, but he has yet to say anything. They share another wordless look but Zuko already has made a decision.
Zuko turns towards the door instead - purposefully stepping on the mask and he hears the crack deepening - the material fully splinter and break apart as he leaves the apartment and the broken remains of his secret behind - fully aware of the blue eyes at his back.
~
"Oh Zuko," Mai say in a voice like she couldn't care less when he somehow manages to show up at her door some excruciating two hours later. "Again?"
"Can I just come in?" He asks because he is exhausted and in desperate need for a save place to crash where nobody will ask questions - in need for some place where he can get help to check over his injuries - and above all else - a place where he is with someone he trusts to not sell him out. Zuko trusts nobody like he trusts Mai.
Mai is not budging. Not even an inch.
"This will be the last time," he says to her unmoving face, hoping she can read it there on every line of his own how true that statement rings. "Please. It's done now."
She still stares back unblinking and for a moment he thinks she will slam the door in his face for good.
Mai sighs and finally steps aside to let him in and Zuko sacks with relief. He still notes the small smirk with which she regards him and he raises a questioning brow as he walks inside.
"That's not really your color," Mai says in a voice that doesn't sound like her habitual boredom at last and Zuko swears she is amused.
~
~
~
It's not really his day - following a long sequence of other 'not his days' that could be all summarized in 'not his year' and if Zuko is even more honest with himself he thinks it's 'not even his life' but that thought is neither here nor there.
Firstly he has a roaring headache - like someone took a sledgehammer and tried to crack his skull open - just like he saw Izao do to someone once - Zuko shudders at the memory and shoves it into the far back of his mind again - and the fluorescent lights illuminating the row with the frozen food doesn't do his head any favors. He can barely concentrate on what he wanted to get. He's out of... what exactly?
All the things swim before his eyes. Over-saturated - over-stimulating - leaving his brain feeling fuzzy and all the things he sees just get info-dumped into his head with no chance of actively registering the meaning of.
Zuko glares at the shelf. He should have tried to get more hours of sleep in - but when has he ever been able to manage that - if he didn't want to have a meltdown because his headache doesn't let him concentrate enough to just get something to eat. Zuko grabs a frozen pizza at random and slams the glass door shut, not caring that it rattles, fully annoyed at himself.
He leans his head at the cool door for a moment to seek relieve for his pounding head.
"Um- are you- " someone says to his right and Zuko stiffens because of course he can't even have literal five seconds of any kind of respite. "-okay?"
Zuko blinks as he glances to his side and is met with the concerned expression of some guy leaning on the glass door next to him - he has an easy, approachable face with impossible blue eyes, hair in a slight outgrown undercut and the rest messily put into a bun - he's wearing baseball shorts and a white tank with a colorful print and something about him looks just so oddly familiar but Zuko is sure he would remember meeting someone like that because the guy is really cute. Zuko blinks again.
The man raises a questioning brow, clearly waiting for Zuko to say something and Zuko - unthinkingly - fully turns towards him.
"Er- Your shirt is cool. It's giving me a headache- No! I mean, the door is cool and I have a... " he trails off - headache momentarily forgotten as he registers the way the man suddenly starts to gape at him and bitter realization sweeps his stomach. Zuko flushes embarrassed at himself - he already knows he just sounded like an idiot - it makes the sting just that more biting for him and Zuko instinctively wants to pull the hood of his jacket deeper to hide the rest his ugly face because how could he forget-
"Oh! It's you!" the guy says, confusingly something dangerously close to sounding pleasantly surprised to see Zuko.
Zuko blinks taken a back - his hammering head is way too slow to keep up - but it's the very blue eyes that finally spark Zuko's memory into recognizing him - and it doesn't even matter because the day was shitty to begin with - first because of the migraine and second now this - but Zuko's mood impossible sours further.
"No," Zuko says and puts the basket with his shoppings down, not caring how rude he is, before he turns to walk right out of the store. There is no way that he's dealing with any of this right now.
"Hey, wait!" The man - what was his name again? Doesn't get the memo and just hurries after him past more frozen goods, canned vegetables and prepackaged meals.
"Just wait a minute!"
Zuko is out at the parking lot, pulling the hood deeper into his face at the way the sunlight seems to drill a painful hole into his forehead when he finally whips back at the persistent nuisance. "Listen, whoever you have me confused with. You got it wrong."
The man huffs out a breath. "Oh I certainly didn't- I just wanted to say- "
"There is nothing to say. You've got the wrong guy," Zuko snaps back and fishes for his cigarettes - damming himself that he recently picked up the habit again and damning himself more when he can't find any in his pockets - damning himself for the last time when he suddenly remembers that that was the main reason he went to the store in the first place.
The man narrows his eyes. "Oh, so there is someone else running around at night with your face? I still have the mask somewhere, if you want it bac- "
Ah. Zuko suddenly gets it.
He immediately steps dangerously close, squaring off his shoulders - he knows how imposing he can look when he puts his mind to it - interrupting before anything else can be said. It's sadly not the first time someone tried that bullshit with him - but then, when has someone not tried to bullshit him?
"The blue spirit hasn't been seen in over three months and word is it that he died. So if you think you can blackmail me with anything, you should re-consider it now because this is the only warning you will ever get. If you mess with me in any way it's your literal death warrant and I wish you good- "
"I just want my hoody back!" The guy blurts out. He mets Zuko's look with one that could be best described as dazzled intrigue - not looking scared of him for even a bit - and Zuko blinks confused, already having lost the grip on the conversation - if you can call his snapping even as such.
Zuko jerks back and draws his shoulders defensively up - embarrassed at drawing the wrong conclusion and the man crosses his arms - arms which look very nicely shaped and toned, Zuko notes with inconsequential perplexity - and clears his throat at Zuko.
"Okay - I don't care what's going on with you but when you left the morning after without another word- "
"What?" Zuko asks bewildered as he pulls his eyes away from the strangely appealing forearms - what's wrong with him by the way? - when the words register and the guy flushes as he realizes what he just said and cringes at himself. An old couple unloading their chart some steps away, give them a curious glance and Zuko glares half-heartedly when he notices.
"That sounded wrong," the guy mutters, before he carries on nonplused. "Just - I'm really sure I did you a huge favor back then. And it's not like I want you to replace all my towels like I joked or even send me flowers with a thank you card or some shit but can I at least have my hoody back? It's my favorite. Shouldn't be so hard - you know where I live."
The man wears an open, trusting face and with his so very pretty blue eyes he stares at Zuko expectant - and Zuko hadn't even noticed just how handsome he is admits his bloodless induced lightheadedness during any point of that night three months ago - but now he does - and for a moment he rakes his brain, trying to remember his name, even if it's so inconsequential.
Zuko should just tell him that he doesn't have the stupid hoody anymore. That he threw it out and that there is now no single reason why they should ever interact ever again - it's better that way for anyone involved - and it's already on the tip of his tongue when -
"Please," pretty-blue-eyes-guy adds then and Zuko feels some of his resolve crumble - he did save Zuko's life and maybe Zuko can just say 'thank you' and hold a normal conversation like a functioning human being for once - Zuko sighs and rubs his temple at this. His head never stopped pounding for even a bit.
"You got the wrong guy," Zuko repeats instead, leaving no room for any argument - hating himself more for this careless stupidity and he turns away. Apparently being an asshole is always easier for him - fully aware just what exactly he has shoved down somewhere at the bottom of his closet, wondering and not understanding why he even wanted to keep it - because shoving things down is also always so much easier then to deal with anything that may make Zuko uncomfortable.
~
"What about these?" Mai ask and Zuko turns in the direction she is looking.
"They are black."
"So?"
"They are for funerals," he says stupidly and wonders why he even bothered to bring Mai with him. Mai gives him a look, like she wonders the literal same.
Zuko rubs his forehead tiredly - his nose already itches from all the smells he is assaulted with - wondering at the same time just how it can be that he's sleeping worse, now that he gave up his night-time activities - before he walks further into the tiny shop - stocked full with floral arrangements and decorative greenery and they have to squeeze by to not pull anything down by accident because the shop is well... tiny.
Mai sighs, her hands brushing against more of the ferns as she continues with their earlier discussion. "Speaking about funerals, what happened to Zhu Han? Azula said that there was yet another police-raid?" She asks bored.
Zuko frowns. "Nothing of course. We all know how deep into father's pockets Long Feng really is and unless Zhu Han doesn't -"
"Ooh. These look lovely," Ty Lee suddenly grabs his elbow - Zuko's foot kick against a metallic watering can as he stumbles and he looks in the direction Ty Lee is pointing at - just to see something that looks like someone vomited yellow and pink petals over a pine tree.
Zuko tells her so and turns back to Mai, pushing some of the flowers carefully out of the way. "-Anyway. At least Zhao will finally see reason that he has to move his warehouse now that they found another mangled body down at the river."
Ty Lee draws a face, not ready to let it go. "I thought you wanted our help? They are very pretty and romantic. I'm telling you to take these."
Zuko gives her suggestion another glance before he scowls at her confused. "What? Who said anything about romantic?"
"No? I guess I don't understand your intentions then," Ty Lee says slowly and looks toward Mai in the foolish hope for backup.
Mai still has her eyes on the black bouquet with an wistful expression. "I don't think the bodies bother Zhao that much. He just hates that all his customers keep getting shot dead by the competition. Who even want's an arms-dealer like that?"
Zuko rolls his eyes because he couldn't care less of who keeps killing Zhao's subordinates - it's all the same to him and he turns back to Ty Lee and crosses his arms. "I just want to express some gratitude. That's basic decency."
"Ohhhh! I get it now. Then I give it two months," Ty Lee says suddenly, eyes alit with mirth and Mai surprisingly hums in accordance, confusing Zuko even more.
"Two months until what?"
"Until your father has enough of all this and removes Zhu Han permanently, of course," Ty Lee says blithely.
Zuko frowns as finally manages to catch the eyes of the girl at the cash register.
"Um- yes can I help you?" The girl asks him with an uncomfortable nervous smile, eyes straying towards Mai and Ty Lee behind him - clearly having been within earshot of the whole conversation in the tiny space of the flower shop and by the way she trying to look anywhere but his face - he already knows what she must be thinking.
Zuko keeps an annoyed huff to himself. "Yeah. You've got something with blue?"
~
"- don't want to find another one of your disgusting dirty socks," Katara says with a mean grin as the three of them walk down the hall, arms full with the groceries for the dinner Sokka is planning to make.
"And I keep telling you I'm not that much of a slob only when- "
"-when you get lost in another new project of yours? We know," Aang finishes his sentence with a laugh, just as they reach Sokka's door.
Sokka glares at Aang as he puts his bag down to pull out his keys. "You know, you two can just go and cook for yourself if you keep picking on me," he grumbles and unlocks his apartment. Aang pats his shoulder and Katara tells him to stop being such a baby before they walk past him.
"Oh wow. You really deep cleaned the place," Katara says as he picks up his bag to follow them inside, letting the door fall shut behind him. "How surprising," he mumbles sarcastically and pulls off his shoes.
"The flowers are a bit overkill though," Katara adds just as she puts the groceries down on his kitchen counters. "What flowers?" Sokka asks confused before he does a sudden double take.
His apartment is clean just like he expected. But... like- really clean. Un-expectedly so. Even more unexpected are the flowers on his kitchen island that Sokka definitely doesn't remember buying in a plain vase he certainly doesn't own.
He puts his shopping bag on the coffee-table absentmindedly and steps towards Katara - who notices his surprised expression with something he doesn't have the mind to discern right now - to inspect the unexplained bouquet.
The flowers are really pretty. A mixture of blues and whites and if he knew anything about flowers - and he is going to look it up later for sure - he'd be able to recognize the blue cornflowers and lupines and the white daisies with the decorative different green leaves.
"So who's Z? A new girlfriend or boyfriend we don't know of yet?" Katara gives him a knowing look and he scowls at her because he's not seeing anyone at the moment - he most certainly doesn't have anyone who would gift him flowers - has never even gotten any flowers before these - and he snatches the card out of her hand with a glare at her noisiness, flipping it over to see a neat and careful penmanship greet him.
Thank you for your help,
I'm keeping the hoody.
- Z
Sokka blinks.
So much to 'wrong guy' he thinks sardonically as it dawns on Sokka just what this could mean - trying to recall the guys exact words - trying to forget how he put his own foot in his mouth yet again - from some days prior when he had a run in on the parking lot with the guy that used to be the blue spirit before he left his broken mask in front of Sokka's door.
"Did you replace your ratty towels? The new once look so fancy," Aang says as he comes back out of the bathroom and Sokka frowns even more confused. Towels? What-
Katara hums questioning when she sees his contemplating look as he eyes the flowers for yet another moment.
Because it's really creepy - not only that the guy clearly choose to break in for this - he could have left Sokka's hoody lying just in front of the door - but he hadn't. He didn't even give it back, certainly choosing to be an ass on top of it too for some reason.
And it is creepy - there is just no other word for that - but somehow Sokka doesn't find it in him to mind too much. Because now - instead - Sokka finds his interest suddenly even more piqued.
Sokka already found the blue spirit interesting to begin with - even if he tells Toph that he doesn't - because who in their right mind tries to single handedly go against the likes of Ozai and his whole syndicate of criminals in that kind of way. That's just borderline suicidal - it used to make Sokka wonder just what kind of guy is behind the mask. Finding the blue spirit wounded and dragging him up here to help him out and with that, seeing the pretty face behind the mask was just mere happenstance. Sokka was so fully convinced that they'd never met again and he'd tried to forget that that night ever happened-
But now...
Now, mister-mysterious had made some grave mistake. He'd broken into Sokka's apartment - and not because he is some righteous hero like anyone thinks - but rather - he's holding Sokka's favorite hoody hostage just to be an ass to him instead of saying thank you in any kind of regular way, all the while leaving Sokka a nice first clue of an initial letter.
Sokka - already trying to re-categorize what he remembers from their confusing last run-in - itches to figure out all the rest now too.
Because if there is one single thing that get's Sokka full attention - it's a good old puzzle for him to solve and right now, he finds himself so very intrigued.