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“Your Zuko costume is pretty good, but your scar’s on the wrong side.” The kid told Zuko before running off again.
“The scar’s not on the wrong side!” Zuko yelled and put his hood back up.
He and Toph sat in the hallway, waiting for the play to start again. It had been terrible.
Zuko had told the others that the Ember Island players were shitty in their acting, but they still had gone to watch. And guess what? He had been right. They had butchered every part possible. The only thing they had gotten right had been their names.
And while Zuko hadn’t been bothered that much by the others’, he had been bothered by their representation of him. Specifically, his scar. It was on the. Wrong. Side.
He was supposed to be their prince, and they couldn’t even remember which side of his face his father had burnt. They had turned one of the worst days of his life into a joke.
“Wait, Sparky, you have a scar?” Toph said. Zuko nearly forgot she was there. He turned his head toward her and thought about what to say. He had never had to explain his scar to anyone before. It was always the first thing someone noticed about him. But Toph was blind, which meant she hadn’t known of its existence till now.
“Yeah, it covers half my face.” He said to her.
“What does it look like?” Toph asked curiously.
He didn’t know how to explain it to her. “Here, give me your hand.” He grabbed her hand and lifted it to his face.
Toph placed her hand against his face. Toph gently moved her fingers across it until his skin no longer felt all smooth and soft, but rather wrinkly and leathery. “Wow, Sparky, that’s a really nasty scar. It must’ve really hurt.” He hadn’t expected that. He had never really had anyone who cared about his feelings regarding the scar.
Zuko nodded, feeling a surge of discomfort at the memories that Toph’s words had brought rushing back. He could feel the weight of her hand against his scarred skin, a constant reminder of the pain he had endured.
“Yeah, it did,” he replied quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Toph sensed his unease and withdrew her hand, sensing that she might have touched a nerve. “Sorry, didn’t mean to pry,” she said gently.
Zuko shook his head, trying to push the memories away. “It’s fine,” he muttered, though his tone had betrayed his true feelings.
Toph studied him for a moment, but her senses picked up on his discomfort. “So, how’d you get it?” she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.
Zuko tensed, his jaw tightening as he struggled to find the words to answer her question. He had known he wouldn’t be able to avoid the topic forever, but the thought of reliving that painful moment was almost too much to bear.
“It’s… it’s a long story,” he finally managed to say, his voice strained.
Toph raised an eyebrow, sensing that there was more to the story than Zuko was letting on. “I’ve got time,” she said, her tone gentle but persistent.
Zuko sighed and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. He knew he couldn’t keep this a secret forever, especially not with Toph. She’s always had a way of seeing right through him, of sensing his inner turmoil with her seismic sense.
“It’s… it’s not something I like to talk about!” he eventually said, his voice edging on angry. Zuko would be prepared to storm out of the room if she asked anything else.
Toph nodded understandingly, sensing that she had touched a raw nerve. Again. “I get it,” she said softly. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
Zuko felt a surge of gratitude towards Toph. He was grateful for her understanding. He knew she would never push him to talk about something he wasn’t ready to discuss. The rest of the Gaang would have probably asked him a million questions about it already, but not Toph, and for that, he was grateful.
“Thanks, Toph,” He said, while he was offering her a small but genuine smile. “I appreciate it.”
“Anytime, Sparky,” she said, her voice filled with reassurance.
------
Zuko sat on his bedroom floor, meditating. The morning sunlight was filtering through the window and casting shadows all around him. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to drift back to Toph’s question about his scar. It was a topic he had been avoiding for so long, burying it deep within himself along with the memories it held.
As he reflected on Toph’s gentle inquiry, Zuko couldn’t help but wonder what his friends would think if they knew the truth. Sokka would probably try to lighten the mood with some witty comment about battle scars. Aang would likely offer words of encouragement, telling him that his scar was a symbol of his strength and resilience. And Katara … Zuko couldn’t even begin to imagine how she would react. Would she look at him differently, with pity or disgust? He had made up with Katara, yes, but sometimes her reaction was s till a wild card.
He knew his friends cared about him deeply, but there was a part of him that feared their reactions. Would they understand? Would they judge him? Would they still accept him? Would they think he’s weak? He wasn’t sure how he’d feel if they pitied him.
He had spent so long trying to bury his past, to hide the pain and the shame behind a façade of strength and determination. Opening up about his scar would mean revealing a vulnerability he wasn’t sure he was ready to confront.
Lost in his thoughts, Zuko didn’t notice when the door to his room opened, and Sokka stepped inside, breaking the silence.
“There you are. We’ve been looking for you.” Zuko blinked, focusing on Sokka’s familiar voice. “Oh, hey, Sokka,” he replied, trying to push aside the lingering unease that still clung to him.
Sokka glanced around the room, his gaze landing on Zuko with a curious expression. “Everything okay?” he asked, his tone filled with genuine concern.
Zuko hesitated for a moment, unsure of how much to reveal. But then he remembered Toph’s understanding and acceptance, and he realized that maybe it was time to let his guard down, even if just a little.
“Yeah, everything’s fine,” he said, offering Sokka a small but genuine smile. “Just… thinking.”
Sokka nodded, seemingly satisfied with the response. “Well, if you ever need to talk or anything, you know we’re here for you, right?” he said, his tone sincere.
Zuko felt a swell of gratitude towards Sokka, touched by his friend’s unwavering support. Maybe opening up wouldn’t be so scary after all.
“Yeah, I know,” Zuko said, his smile widening. “Thanks, Sokka.”
Sokka grinned back at him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Anytime, buddy. Now come on , let’s go grab some breakfast. I’m starving!”
------
Aang, immediately as he opened his eyes, realized that the sun was already up. He woke up with a start. Zuko normally wakes him up during sunrise with his whole ‘ Firebenders rise with the sun’ thing, but he didn’t today. He was worried something was wrong.
He exited the bedroom he had taken for himself and headed towards the kitchen. Katara was by the countertop making breakfast while Sokka, Suki, and Toph were sitting at the table waiting for the food.
“Hey, guys. Do you know where Zuko is? He didn’t wake me up for training this morning.” He asked. Katara stopped what she was doing and looked at the airbender.
She exchanged a concerned glance with Sokka and Suki before she turned back to Aang. “No, we haven’t seen him either,” she replied, her voice laced with worry. “You two usually wake up hours before the rest of us. We just assumed you were training,” Katara added.
Sokka nodded in agreement, his expression mirroring Katara’s concern. “He was acting kind of strange last night, though,” he added, furrowing his brow in thought.
Aang’s worry deepened at Sokka’s words, his mind racing with concern for Zuko. “Yeah, he did seem off,” Aang agreed, his brows furrowing with concern. “I had tried talking to him about it, but he didn’t really want to open up.”
Toph nodded, her keen senses picking up on the unease in the air. Katara sighed, her worry evident in her voice. “I hope he’s okay,” she murmured as her gaze drifted towards the window, as if hoping to catch sight of their missing friend.
Sokka nodded in agreement, his expression determined. “Well, there’s only one way to find out,” he declared, pushing himself up from the table. “Let’s go look for him.”
Making his way to Zuko’s bedroom, Sokka swung open the door, only to be greeted by the sight of the firebender. “There you are,” Sokka began, but his words trailed off as he abruptly closed the door behind him.
The rest of the group exchanged perplexed and concerned glances at Sokka’s abrupt departure. “So, he was just in his bedroom?” Suki voiced their collective confusion.
“Something’s not right,” Katara said as she carried two bowls to the table and then left to get the rest.
Toph, who had been silent until now, spoke up with a furrowed brow. “Yeah, this is weird even for Sparky. He never skips out on training.”
Aang nodded, his worry growing with each passing moment. “And he seemed so distant last night,” he added, his voice tinged with concern. “I just hope he’s okay.
“Do you think he’s upset about the play?” Suki’s question hung in the air, causing the group to pause and consider the possibility. Aang furrowed his brow, pondering the idea. “I mean, the play was pretty terrible,” he admitted, recalling the cringeworthy performance they had witnessed.
Katara shrugged. That didn’t sound like Zuko to her. “Maybe, but Zuko’s not the type to let something like that get to him,” she pointed out, a hint of uncertainty laced her words.
Suki crossed her arms, her expression thoughtful. “I don’t know, it seemed like he had been bothered by something,” she mused, her sharp senses picking up on the tension in the air.
“I asked him about his scar.” Toph suddenly revealed.
The group turned their attention to Toph, surprised by her revelation. Katara’s brows furrowed with concern. “You did? What did he say?” she asked, her voice filled with worry. And a bit of wonder. Zuko’s scar was kind of an enigma to them.
Toph shrugged, her expression unreadable. “Not much. He didn’t seem too keen on talking about it,” she replied, her tone matter-of-fact.
Suki frowned, her concern deepening. “Do you think that’s what’s bothering him?” she asked, turning to the group for their thoughts.
Aang chewed on his lip, pondering the possibility. “It’s possible,” he admitted, recalling Zuko’s reaction during the play. “He did seem pretty annoyed about his scar being on the wrong side.”
“Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever wondered how he got it.” Katara paused, her brow furrowing in thought. “I mean, I always just assumed it was a training accident or something, but now that I think about it, we’ve never really talked about it.”
Suki nodded, her expression serious while her mind was racing with concern for her friend. “But if it’s bothering him this much, maybe it’s time we have that conversation.”
Toph raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “So, are we gonna go ask him about it?” she asked, her tone eager.
Katara hesitated for a moment, her concern for Zuko clashing with her desire to respect his privacy. “I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice tinged with uncertainty. “I don’t want to push him into talking about something he’s not ready to discuss.”
Suki nodded in agreement, her expression thoughtful. “Yeah, but at the same time, he’s our friend,” she pointed out. “And if something’s bothering him, we should be there for him.”
Aang chewed on his lip, his mind racing with conflicting emotions. “I just want to make sure he’s okay,” he admitted, his voice tinged with worry. “But I don’t want to make things worse by pushing him to tell us about something he’s not ready to talk about.”
Katara sighed in frustration. “This is so frustrating,” she muttered, her expression tense with worry. “I just want to help him, but I don’t know how.”
“If you really want to know, I’ll tell you.” Zuko’s voice cut through their conversation. They nearly jumped. None of them heard the door being opened and the two boys exiting the room. It seemed like they had stood there for some time.
The group turned to see Zuko standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable. There was a tense silence as they processed his words, unsure of how to respond.
Katara was the first to recover, her concern for Zuko overriding any hesitation. “Zuko, are you sure?” she asked, her voice filled with genuine concern. “We don’t want to pressure you into talking about something you’re not comfortable with.”
Zuko hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering between the group. He could see the worry etched on their faces, their concern for him palpable in the air.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” he said finally, his voice steady but tinged with uncertainty. “I think… I think it’s time you all knew.”
The group exchanged a glance, silently agreeing to listen to whatever Zuko had to say. They moved to sit down, their eyes fixed on Zuko as he began to speak.
“Listen, I’ve never had to tell anyone this story before. People usually already know what happened.” Zuko started, his voice wavering slightly. “It’s not easy for me to talk about, but I trust all of you.”
Katara reached out and took Zuko’s hand, offering him a silent gesture of support. “We’re here for you, Zuko,” she said softly, her voice filled with warmth and understanding. “Whatever you need, we’re here to help you through it.”
Zuko took a deep breath and started talking. “When I was thirteen, I wanted to join my father’s war meeting.”
“What would you want to-“ Sokka wanted to ask, but Toph elbowed him before he was finished asking, shutting him up. At the same time, Katara shushed him and shot him a glare.
“I begged my uncle to let me inside, and he told me I could as long as I stayed quiet.” Zuko continued, his voice void of any emotion. “One of the generals proposed this idea, where one of the divisions would be used as bait. I-I couldn’t just let them do that. They were going to kill them, and I couldn’t let them do that! And so I told them that it was a bad idea, that they shouldn’t sacrifice their soldiers like that.” Zuko paused, his voice catching slightly as he relived the memory.
“But my father… he didn’t see it that way. He … he was furious. He accused me of disrespecting the general for talking out of place.”
Zuko’s hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms as he fought to keep his emotions in check. “He… he told me I would have to fight an Agni Kai,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
“I thought I was going to fight the general, so I accepted.” Zuko paused.
“What’s an Agni Kai?” Suki questioned. “It’s a traditional fire duel usually fought to settle disputes or to defend one’s honor,” Zuko answered, glad for the short reprieve from the story.
“When I arrived at the dueling arena, it wasn’t the general who was waiting for me. It was my father,” Zuko continued, his voice filled with bitterness.
The room fell into a heavy silence as Zuko’s words sank in. The group listened intently, their expressions a mixture of shock and sympathy. Katara squeezed Zuko’s hand gently, offering him silent support as he continued.
“I disrespected the general by talking, but because it was my father’s war room, I also disrespected him.” Zuko’s voice trembled slightly as he recounted the painful memories, his eyes filled with unshed tears. He wasn’t going to cry now. This was a long time ago, and he won’t cry over it, especially not in front of them. He didn’t want their pity.
“I couldn’t fight him. I begged for his forgiveness. I told him I was his loyal son, but he still wanted me to fight. I couldn’t fight him. He was my father, and I couldn’t fight him.” Zuko’s voice wavered for a moment.
“He walked up to me and put a hand on my face and…and then he…he…” He couldn’t finish the sentence.
Katara, sensing his distress, began rubbing soothing circles on his back. Zuko didn’t need to finish the sentence; they all understood what he wanted to say.
“I-I woke up a week later on a boat and Uncle telling me I was banished and could only return if I captured the avatar.”
Zuko glanced at his friends. They all stared back at him, tears streaming down their faces, but their expressions were not of pity as he had expected , thankfully ; they were seething with anger. It took him a moment to realize that their anger wasn’t directed at him.
“So-“ Aang then spoke up, breaking the silence “-this whole time when you were chasing us, you…you just wanted to go home.” Zuko nodded, his gaze dropping to the floor as he struggled to contain the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. “Yeah,” he admitted quietly.
“I’m gonna kill him!” Toph then shouted.
Toph’s declaration snapped everyone out of their stunned silence, her words echoing in the room with fierce determination. Sokka nodded in agreement, his expression hardening with resolve. “Yeah, we’re not going to let your father get away with this,” he said, his voice tinged with anger.
Katara’s hands were shaking with rage as she spoke, her voice trembling with emotion. “We’ll make him pay for what he did to you,” she vowed, her eyes flashing with anger.
Suki’s jaw was clenched with anger, her fists trembling with barely contained rage. “No one hurts our friend and gets away with it,” she said, her voice laced with determination.
Zuko stared at his friends. He didn’t expect this reaction. “Guys, it’s okay.” He told them. “No! It’s not okay! You were a child !” Aang declared furiously.
“You didn’t deserve that! No one does!”
“I know that now!” Zuko responded, and he quickly realized that it was the wrong thing to say as all their faces fell at his declaration.
“What do you mean ‘now’?” Toph voiced what everyone was thinking.
Zuko swallowed hard, feeling the weight of their collective gaze bearing on him. He knew he had to explain, even though he knew his friends would be absolutely horrified at the revelation.
“I mean… I thought I deserved it,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought it was my fault, that I had somehow brought it upon myself. I spent years believing I was unworthy, that I deserved the punishment my father gave me.”
Tears welled up in Zuko’s eyes as he spoke, memories of self-doubt and pain resurfacing with brutal clarity. “It wasn’t until I met all of you that I started to realize how wrong he was.”
Zuko was barely able to finish the sentence before he got tackled by a bald monk who hugged him. Aang’s fury softened into empathy as he regarded Zuko. “Zuko, I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he said sincerely, his voice filled with genuine compassion. “But you’re not alone anymore. We’re here for you.”
The others then joined the hug. “We’ll do whatever it takes to help you, Zuko,” Katara promised, her voice filled with determination. “You’re part of our family now, and family sticks together.”
Sokka’s expression softened into a reassuring smile. “Yeah, we’ve got your back, buddy,” he said firmly, his tone filled with conviction. “No matter what.”
Toph crossed her arms, her expression determined. “We’re not going to let your father get away with this,” she declared, her voice ringing with resolve. “He’s going to pay for what he did to you.”
Suki placed a comforting hand on Zuko’s shoulder, her gaze filled with unwavering support. “You’re not alone in this, Zuko,” she said softly, her voice filled with warmth. “We’re with you every step of the way.”
Zuko felt tears well up in his eyes. He was grateful he had such good friends. He had no idea where he would be now if it weren’t for them.
“Thank you,” Zuko said, his voice filled with emotion.
“You’re warm,” Toph suddenly commented. Sokka then added, “Yeah, you’re like a heat pack. We need to do this more often.”
“I’m a firebender, we run hot.”
The group stayed like that for a little longer, just basking in Zuko’s warmth.