Chapter Text
Shinriki Iroh has not spoken to his family in nine years. Almost a decade since he was forced to leave his niece and nephew with a monster he once called ‘brother’.
(Nine years since Ozai threatened to do much worse to them if Iroh didn’t stop butting into his business.)
(Nine years since Iroh failed to provide enough evidence to get his niece and nephew away from him.)
Iroh tried to move on with life to the best of his ability. It was the only way he found he could manage without breaking down. He was ashamed to admit it, but Zuko and Azula became a thought that only lingered in the back of his head.
He’s brewing tea in the Jasmine Dragon when that all changes.
His phone rings with an unknown number. The location pings from the Bay Area, where he knows Ozai and his family live. Iroh’s heart leaps into his throat, alarm rising.
He picks up the phone, expecting to hear his brother or a secretary, yet neither greet him.
“Hello? Is this Iroh Shinriki?”
He nods before realizing that the person speaking can’t see him. He’s too stressed to laugh about it. “Yes, who do I have the pleasure of speaking to?”
Piandao glances at him from across his place in the kitchen. Iroh doesn't meet his gaze.
“Hi, my name is Susan and I’m with Child Protective Services. There’s been a recent incident that needs your attention.”
Even though Iroh lives in a small town four hours away, he immediately closes the tea shop for the day and drives as fast as he can over to the address the social worker gave him.
He doesn’t know enough about the situation to make any proper judgment, but he knows the main idea, and he knows what his brother is capable of.
Signs of severe child abuse and neglect.
Recent burns across a third of his face.
Left abandoned in a park.
Severely malnourished.
Signs of forceful penetration.
Has been in the hospital for two days.
Iroh’s hands are trembling when he pulls up to the hospital. His parking job is shoddy but he has bigger things on his mind, he worries about other things.
His voice cracks when he gives the secretary his name. His feet shake when they lead him to a room. There are two police officers and a social worker outside the door.
“Are you Iroh?” The social worker –who he can assume is Susan– asks. Iroh nods in confirmation and Susan sighs in relief, “Great, we need to discuss a few things about this case.”
Iroh swallows the urge to yell at this woman. It is not a case, this is his nephew. A living, breathing, child.
“May I see my nephew first?” Asks Iroh and Susan hesitates before repeating the question to the police officers.
One of the police officers swallows audibly, “Sure, but it’s um… it’s bad.”
Iroh immediately brushes past them and barges into the hospital room.
He resists the urge to vomit upon seeing what has happened to his nephew.
Nearly half his face is covered in gauze and bandages, including his left eye and ear. His hair is thin and scraggly, completely bald in some parts like someone had ripped tufts of hair out. In the hospital gown, Iroh can see every tube that leads into the child's emaciated body. An IV in his wrist, a heart monitor strapped to his chest, a breathing tube supplying oxygen to his lungs.
He doesn’t want to imagine what his brother has done to this poor boy.
Iroh feels a hand on his shoulder and he realizes that somehow his hands have covered his mouth and he has collapsed into a sitting position on the floor. He glances up, looking into the blue eyes of a nurse as she gently pulls him up.
A sob echoes in his throat.
“What happened?” He hears himself ask, but he already knows what has happened: Ozai.
Standing on shaky legs, he walks over to his nephew and clasps Zuko’s hand in his own, stroking his palm softly, watching his pale eyelids not even twitch.
Distantly, he realizes he’s still wearing his apron from the tea shop.
Distantly, he wonders how he ever could’ve been happily running a tea shop at the same time that Zuko was experiencing such tragedy.
“Mr. Shinriki?” Susan asks from the doorframe and Iroh jerks his head to meet hers, “I cannot imagine what you’re going through right now. But unfortunately, the system doesn’t seem to care about that and if you want to stay with Zuko, I’m going to have to discuss a few things with you first.”
Iroh nods, breathing through the minor annoyance he feels with the social worker. It isn’t her fault the government works this way. He gives his nephew one last look before stepping out. He feels awful abandoning him, even if it’s just to leave the room for a few moments.
“Why has my nephew been here for two days already all by himself?” Iroh asks –not unkindly– as soon as Susan leads them into an empty conference room.
Susan sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose, “We had to make sure that you were a safe adult, that you weren’t closely connected with Ozai in any way.”
Iroh nods, settling with that answer. The knowledge that Zuko was by himself for two days after all this rests like a boulder in his stomach. He’s only 13, he shouldn’t be experiencing this.
Iroh sighs, finally bringing up the question that he doesn’t want to know the answer to. “Could you please tell me what my brother has done to my nephew?”
Susan takes a shuddering breath, “It’s…” She trails off before she even starts and Iroh sees a glimpse of a tear in her eye.
“So, to start at the beginning: a group of college students were exploring the local park when they found him. It was- it appeared as though he had been lying there for two days, too weak to move. An ambulance was called right away and he was sent here. The burn… infection had already set into the burn on his face. Doctors here performed surgery right away to salvage the good tissue and try to reconstruct his face.”
Iroh isn’t sure if he’s breathed the entire time Susan has spoken. And his heart plummets when she talks again.
“There were clear signs of physical abuse and neglect. Zuko’s pelvis and genitals also showed signs of forced penetration and sexual assault. Police ran an investigation into Zuko’s home. There was enough evidence in the home to arrest Ozai for child abuse on both Zuko and his sister. Ozai then confessed to harming Zuko and being the cause of the burn. We had to make sure that you weren’t close and possibly aware of the abuse before we contacted you.”
Iroh feels his throat closing up, blocked by tears. He still has so many questions left unanswered, and so many worries that won’t stop even when he knows the full truth. Worries about how Zuko wasn’t the only child in that house.
“What- what of Azula, his sister?” Iroh asks. He knew that Ozai had always favored Azula over Zuko since birth. Zuko had been born premature and was sick often, Ursa being the one to take care of him. According to Ozai’s standards, this was a reason to love one child more than the other.
Susan grimaces, “When we arrived at the house, Ozai had locked Azula in the wine cellar. When we opened the door she appeared to be in a state of psychosis. She had broken a wine bottle and stabbed one of the policemen trying to help her. She was brought to this hospital but had to be restrained at all times. When we asked Azula if she had any idea what happened to Zuko, she shouted many cruel and demeaning things in response to her brother’s name. She showed no signs of physical abuse or malnutrition and was still in a state of psychosis when the doctors finished her exam. She is currently at a pediatric psychiatric hospital.”
Iroh feels bile rising. No, not Azula. He had known the child could be cruel but he had never imagined something like this happening.
“And also… we found strangulation marks on Zuko’s neck and defensive wounds on Azula’s hands. Azula’s DNA was under Zuko’s fingernails and the size of the hands on Zuko’s neck matched Azula’s. We- It’s been determined that it’s not safe for the siblings to remain in the same household. The psychiatrists suspect that Azula has very severe mental illnesses and suggest inpatient treatment for the time being. Thus why we asked you to only care for Zuko.”
No. Iroh shakes his head. That didn’t make sense, why would- Azula wouldn’t-
He remembers the relationship that he and his own brother had shared.
Perhaps Azula had picked it up from her father. If that was the case then it truly wouldn’t be safe for Zuko and Azula to be in the same household.
Iroh swallows, thinking through his emotions and trying to rely on logic. “Okay,” he says finally, “What do you need me to do?”
Susan gives him a wavering smile, “Assuming that when Zuko wakes up, he’s well enough to be taken to your residence, we want to know if you would take him in and gain temporary custody.”
“Yes,” Iroh says without hesitation, “Yes, of course I’ll be willing to take in my nephew.”
I won’t leave him alone again, he thinks.
Susan gives him a sincere smile this time, “I’m glad. There’s just some paperwork you’ll need to fill out first.”
As Iroh fills out and reads the paperwork, his heart sinks. There’s going to be a trial against Ozai and Zuko will most likely have to stand as a witness and give testimony. Iroh won’t be able to get permanent custody of his nephew until the results of the trial are done. He sees all of the hospital records and he feels tears welling up at what has been done to this poor boy.
He swears then and there, that he will protect this child with everything he has.
The paperwork is finished and Susan and Iroh both stand up to leave. Susan to the Child Protective Services offices and Iroh to the hospital room. He’s almost out the door when one question lingers on his tongue.
“Susan?” He asks, “Do you know whose DNA was in Zuko’s… pelvic area? Just so that we will be able to get justice for them too?”
Susan sighs, “No, his groin area was too badly damaged to get any proper DNA.”
With that, she walks away. And Iroh realizes that with that last sentence, the only tear he’s seen on Susan’s face has fallen.
Iroh stays by his nephew’s side the entire night and only dozes on the side of the hospital bed. Piandao calls several times, but Iroh ignores them all. Talking about it will make it real.
He stays by his nephew’s side all morning when the nurses and doctors come in to check his vitals and put more nutrients into the IV bag. They change the bandages on his face and Iroh cannot bear to look. Student doctors gawk at Zuko as though he is an animal in a circus, and at Iroh as if he were the crazy ringleader.
Iroh doesn’t think they’re wrong.
It’s midafternoon when the heart rate monitor picks up and Zuko whimpers and groans. His nephew is waking up and there are no doctors in the room.
Iroh quickly ducks his head out the door, calling out to any staff nearby, “Help! My nephew- he’s waking up!” He doesn’t wait around to see if anyone hears his pleas and rushes back to Zuko’s bedside.
Zuko whimpers again, growing in intensity and panic before going deathly still. His eyes are squeezed shut, and it looks like he’s trying to shrink into the bedsheets, trying to hide. Iroh desperately finds himself wishing that Zuko hadn’t been conditioned this way.
“Zuko?” Iroh asks gently, trying not to scare the boy further, “Do you know where you are?”
His nephew keeps his eyes shut, his breath speeding up with the heart monitor. He’s trembling now, and Iroh doesn’t know how to calm him down.
“You’re safe now. You’re in a hospital and you’re safe. Nobody is going to hurt you, I promise. I am your uncle Iroh, do you remember me?”
Zuko remains silent, still thrashing but not as fiercely. Iroh can see his unbandaged eye flickering rapidly beneath the eyelid. Slowly, he cracks it open, glancing at Iroh and he sees a glimpse of terrified yellow orbs.
Zuko watches Iroh for what feels like an eternity, examining him. His nephew's eye is glazed, like he’s deep in thought, trying to remember ever meeting Iroh. Not that Iroh would be surprised if he doesn’t remember, the last time they met was when Zuko was only four.
Of course, that’s when a doctor and nurse come in. Zuko immediately bolts upright and pulls his knees into a tiny ball. The heart monitor shows how fast his little heart is beating.
He thinks we’re going to hurt him, Iroh realizes with horrifying clarity. He pushes down the urge to track down his brother and kill him. His nephew is here right now, and he is what needs Iroh’s full attention.
The doctor approaches Zuko, and Iroh is surprised when he finds that the heart monitor spikes even higher. Zuko blinks rapidly, his gaze never straying from the stranger walking towards him.
“Zuko?” The doctor asks and the small boy flinches away, an inhumane-like growl escaping from his lips, like an animal that's been cornered with no way out. “Zuko, you are safe here. My name is Andrew. No one will hurt you, you are far away from anyone who will hurt you.”
Zuko shakes his head at that, clearly disbelieving. He cowers further when Andrew kneels beside him. Distantly, Iroh thinks Andrew is going to make it worse, but he doesn’t. Instead, he makes large, exaggerated, slow breaths. In through his nose and out through his mouth.
Slowly, Zuko starts copying Andrew. His one eye loses the panic and focuses on his surroundings. Defeated, Zuko slinks back against the pillow, head dipping down in exhaustion. His arms wrap around himself, gently stroking the skin. Iroh feels his heart ping, how many times has this boy had to comfort himself?
Andrew stays kneeling, still making exaggerated breaths in the case that Zuko starts to hyperventilate again. The nurse, who was standing off in a corner the entire time, suddenly appears with a bottle of water.
Zuko hesitates, inspecting the nurse and the bottled water before snatching it from her. Shaky hands unscrew the cap, and Zuko gulps down nearly half the bottle before setting it down. His hands are trembling so badly (either from weakness or from fear) that some water splashes out onto the nightstand.
Iroh refuses to cry in front of his nephew, not when his nephew is the one living in this nightmare.
The nurse leaves the room.
“Zuko, do you know where you are?” Andrew asks.
A timid nod and half-shrug.
“Do you think you can tell me where you are?”
“A hospital, sir.”
Iroh nearly takes a step back at the harsh sound of his nephew's voice. It’s raspy and cracks when he says ‘sir’. It’s like he hasn’t drank water for days, even though he just had some.
Alone in a park for two days, too weak to move.
Andrew nods encouragingly as he asks another question, “Do you know why?”
Zuko pauses and licks his lips before speaking in a whisper, “...father, I think. I- I was in a bush?” His voice tightens at the end, asking Andrew for confirmation. His eyes widen before quickly tacking on a ‘sir’ to the sentence.
Every ‘sir’ feels like a needle in Iroh’s heart.
Andrew nods again and Zuko noticeably loses some tension, like he was afraid of getting the answer wrong.
“I’m a child psychologist at this hospital, and if it’s okay, I’m going to invite my friends Susan and Mark in to ask you some questions.”
Zuko bites his lip before shyly nodding.
“Okay,” Andrew says and turns towards Iroh, “Your uncle will have to leave though.”
The boys’ eyes shoot over to Iroh, truly seeing him for the first time. A hint of a scowl flickers across his face, “We’ve never met, he can leave.”
Iroh feels selfish when those words hurt.
He feels selfish that he never tried to reach out after Lu Ten’s death.
He feels selfish that he left Zuko alone in a house with a monster for so long.
He feels selfish when he nods and walks out the door, meeting the eyes of Susan and one of the policemen as they walk in.
He sits on a bench near the door, just in case they need him.
And there, Iroh finally sobs.
It feels like the conversation between Zuko and the officials has taken forever, and Iroh tries to meditate the entire time. He focuses on the sensations weighing down his body and lets them go.
He breathes.
Zuko’s starved body lying lifeless on the cot.
Meditation doesn’t work this time.
He breathes anyway.
Andrew, the police officer, and Susan all finally step out. Immediately, Iroh is standing there, wanting to know if his nephew is okay and if things will ever be okay again.
“How is my nephew?” Iroh asks, he isn’t sure which of them he’s talking to.
The policeman steps forward, “Zuko is going to be removed from Ozai’s custody,” Iroh hadn’t even realized how much tension he was holding until those words were uttered.
“But Ozai, he has a lot of political and military power, so he won’t be going down without a fight. I don’t think that just a written statement from Zuko will be enough, especially since Azula will most likely be disallowed under insanity.”
Iroh swallows, he knows that his brother is an important figure in the government, but he never expected that it would stop a court from seeing the true evil beneath his skin. Perhaps Iroh was naïve in thinking so.
Iroh bows slightly, thanking the officer as he departs and Andrew steps forward.
“I don’t think I properly introduced myself,” he says, “My name is Doctor Andrew Wilkinson and I’m the child psychologist watching over Zuko’s case until he can be referred to a more specialized therapist or doctor.”
Iroh sticks out his hand, shaking Dr. Wilkinson’s, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, I just wish we had met under different circumstances,” the doctor nods in agreement before Iroh asks what he suggests for his nephew.
Dr. Wilkinson sighs, running a hand over his face, “He’s undergone an extreme amount of abuse. I have reason to suspect that his mind has blocked off parts of it as a trauma response. I’d suggest intense therapy, twice a week at a minimum. From there a therapist can properly diagnose him. I’m expecting that he’ll show signs of CPTSD.”
“As for his behavior towards you, he just got out of an extremely abusive environment, so he’ll probably be paranoid, jumpy, and could lash out. That’s all to be expected, just treat him with patience and empathy, he hasn’t had the best experience with parental figures and adults for a while.”
Iroh nods, struggling to take all of that in. Words rattle around in his head that seem too old to describe his nephew. His heart aches with grief, it’s three children now that he wasn’t able to save, first Lu Ten, and now Azula and Zuko.
“Oh,” Dr. Wilkinson adds, “Zuko’s primary physician will want to speak with you shortly. But for now, you can stay with your nephew if you wish.”
Iroh walks into the hospital room without another thought.
Zuko looks slightly better now. His eyes aren’t wide with panic and he’s sitting up against the pillows. He’s still unhealthy, each bone threatening to poke out and each tendon visible with every movement. His face is pale, except for a slight flush from the infection. The wires and tubes seem to swallow him, and Iroh realizes that the nutrient bag that has been feeding into Zuko’s wrist has been refilled.
Zuko stares at him, his good eye narrowed in suspicion. “So,” he says at last, his voice still raspy with a slight lisp, “You’re my Uncle Iroh?”
Iroh nods, smiling gently as he moves slowly over to the boy, “Can I sit?” He asks, gesturing to the bed.
Zuko shrugs, “Yes, sir.”
“You don’t have to call me ‘sir’ if you don’t want to,” Iroh says, sitting down.
A frown, deep in thought, “What may I call you then?”
“Just ‘Uncle’ is fine, or ‘Uncle Iroh’ if you prefer.”
Zuko’s lip twitches, either in amusement or annoyance, Iroh can’t tell. “Alright then, Uncle.”
Iroh beams.
Iroh and Zuko stay there overnight for observation. The doctors want his fever from infection to break fully before they go home, they want to try and get actual food in him and not just bagged nutrients.
They don’t speak much, Iroh will occasionally ask if Zuko wants anything, or he’ll try to make small talk, but Zuko only responds in one-word answers. Iroh doesn’t miss the way his nephew tenses every time he addresses him.
Zuko never asks for anything.
Eventually, Zuko falls into an uneasy sleep and Iroh is left alone. He tries mediation again, this time focusing on the fact that his nephew is safe now. He lets his thoughts go.
It helps a little.
Iroh falls asleep in the chair next to the bed and dreams of nothing.
Zuko is not so lucky. He whimpers in his sleep and wakes up screaming in the middle of the night, his hands clawing at the bandage across his face. In the end, it takes ten minutes to calm him down.
He refuses to sleep after that.
Iroh stays awake with him.
In the morning, when sunlight spills over the city, Iroh finally meets Zuko’s main physician.
He marches in with authority, barely sparing a glance at Zuko and only looking at Iroh. His doctor coat is ironed, and he wears a dress shirt underneath.
“If I could speak to you outside?” He asks, finally looking at Zuko, and Iroh notices that the doctor's eyes are red and swollen.
Iroh nods, “Yes, of course. Do not worry, nephew, I will be back.” He says, turning to Zuko at the last bit.
Zuko scoffs and faces the other side of the room.
The doctor takes him outside and into a private room, “I’m Dr. Cunner,” says the man, shaking hands with Iroh, “I apologize that I haven’t been very present in Zuko’s treatment here. Not to give any excuses but abuse is… abuse is a bit of a hard topic for me. I have a two-year-old at home, and it’s hard to imagine-” Dr. Cunner breaks off, clenching his fists.
Iroh smiles, “It’s alright, I am simply glad that you care. I cannot fathom how someone could do this to a child either.”
He can’t imagine himself ever treating his son that way, he would’ve rather jumped into a live volcano than lay a finger on Lu Ten.
Dr. Cunner gives Iroh a look of gratitude, “Thank you for taking care of him now.”
“It was the least I could do.”
The man clears his throat, looking down at the folder in his hands, “Right, so discussing Zuko’s physical health and treatment. When he was brought here, the infection had already set in and it was too late to try and perform any type of surgery to reduce the scarring. The burn covers about a fourth of his face, including his eye and ear. He’ll likely lose a majority of the use of his left eye and ear. I wouldn’t be surprised if he goes completely deaf or blind on the left side.”
“We’re going to give you pain meds and a burn salve to help with pain and stinging for Zuko. You apply the burn salve every night and take medication as needed. It’s a third-degree burn so he shouldn’t have any pain directly on the burn, but the skin around it may be tender.”
“However, the burn wasn’t the only physical injury he sustained. It’s been a while since it appears Zuko had a full meal, so keep him on a liquid diet and light foods until further notice. His ribs are bruised and there are signs that his fingers have been broken and healed incorrectly. We are going to refer him to a doctor closer to where you live, just to see how his injuries are healing.”
Dr. Cunner takes a breath, “As for the… damage to his groin and pelvis, we tried to help as much as he could. But he’ll be in pain for a few weeks as it heals. The pain medication we prescribed him should help with all that.”
Once it seems like the doctor is done with his whirlwind of a speech, Iroh finally tries to process everything. He feels sick at everything this poor boy has gone through. All the injuries he received at the hands of someone who was supposed to care for and be a loving figure in his life.
Dr. Cunner hands him a few discharge papers to sign and Iroh signs them right then and there. Ink staining the pages with his signature.
I swear, Iroh thinks, I will show you how fathers are supposed to act.
Iroh pulls his car up the front of the hospital and the staff wheel Zuko out. Zuko scowls, stands up without assistance, and climbs into the backseat without a word.
“You can sit in the front if you would like,” Iroh says.
Zuko glares and stays in the back.
His nephew says nothing on the ride home, and Iroh plays old music in hopes of lightening the mood.
While driving, Iroh realizes something that makes it feel like a bucket of cold water has been dumped on his head: his home only has two bedrooms. His own… and Lu Ten’s.
He tries to make himself go in there at least once a week, but it usually ends in tears. All of his son’s things are still there, his trumpet from the marching band and his comics spread out across the desk.
Maybe Zuko can sleep in Iroh’s room and Iroh can sleep on the couch? No, that will make Zuko feel like he’s intruding and Iroh’s back is much too old for that. But he refuses to let Zuko sleep on the couch.
Even if he doesn’t want to admit it, he knows that Lu Ten’s bedroom will be used for the first time in nine years.
Iroh breathes deeply, trying to focus on another train of thought.
The sun sets in the sky, making the clouds a light pink.
“Does broth sound okay for dinner, nephew?” Iroh asks and Zuko blinks. Iroh realizes Zuko’s gaze has never once drifted from the older man.
“I- broth?” Zuko asks, and he sounds confused.
Iroh chuckles, “Yes, I’m aware it isn’t a full meal but the doctors request that you’re only eating liquids for the time being.”
Zuko’s confusion deepens, “But I- yes, Uncle.” Something close to tears appears in Zuko’s eyes. Has food truly been such a rarity for him? Is he crying tears of joy?
Before Iroh can ask him more, they pull up to the house. It’s a small, brick, home in a cul-de-sac, similar homes nearby in the neighborhood.
Iroh parks the car in the driveway and gets out, Zuko following from a distance.
“If you would like to stay in the living room for a moment while I prepare dinner, there are many books you can help yourself to. I even have pai sho.” Iroh says, gleefully looking at the pai sho table in the corner.
He walks into the kitchen, preparing to make dinner. It’s strange, Iroh has never just made broth before. He gets it from the local market, but he’ll add in meat and vegetables that he’s grown himself.
Cooking is something that brings him peace, something that takes his mind off the horrors of the day. The broth is warm, and he’s putting it into two bowls when he spots Zuko out of the corner of his eye. His eye is wide with fear, and he’s trembling.
Iroh frowns, staring at the boy, “Is something wrong?”
Zuko steps out from his hiding spot behind the wall, his face blazing with anger, “I’m not hungry for dinner today.”
“My nephew, you should eat a few bites,” Iroh says, thinking of every rib he could count, now hidden by a large sweatshirt and pants CPS provided them with.
Zuko shakes his head, “I said I’m not hungry! I don’t want your stupid dinner!” Beneath the anger is panic, his whole body is shaking and he has his arms curled protectively around his body.
“Nephew, I would let you skip dinner if you wanted, but the hospital said that this is the only way to get you better.” His nephew is petrified now, and Iroh wonders if they’re talking about the same thing.
“NO!” Zuko screams at the top of his lungs, “I WON’T DO IT! YOU CAN’T MAKE ME! YOU PROMISED IT WOULD BE DIFFERENT HERE!”
Iroh frowns, and realizes that perhaps dinner with Ozai meant something very different, “Zuko,” he says and Zuko flinches, “Come sit with me for a second. Don’t worry about dinner.”
Zuko obeys, still trembling with fear, his good eye staring at his uncle.
“What do you think that ‘dinner’ means?” Iroh asks, “What happened when you had dinner before?”
Zuko shakes his head, looking away, “I- I don’t remember exactly. It was- he… he made me earn it. He- I don’t know what he did, but I know that he made me eat out of a dog bowl. And you said that this stupid place would be different but now you’re making us do dinner all over again!”
His voice picks up at the end and Iroh feels a bowling ball drop into his stomach. He isn’t sure what Ozai did to Zuko and he isn’t sure he even wants to know. And a dog bowl? That was awful, horrible, and demeaning.
“Nephew,” Iroh sighs, “Can you look at me?” Zuko does, tears brimming.
“I am never going to do that. Here, you do not ever need to earn your food, you are entitled to it because you are a living person. Anytime you are hungry, you are allowed to go into the pantry and eat. You will never have to do anything to have food. You may have food whenever you want.”
Zuko’s good eye widens and his mouth gapes like he has never heard of such a thing before. It breaks Iroh’s heart.
“You- I- you’re lying,” Zuko says finally.
Iroh smiles sadly, “I will never lie to you, nephew. Now, would you like to eat before our broth gets cold?”
Zuko frowns for a moment, “Do you swear that you’ll never lie to me?”
“I swear it, nephew.”
Zuko smiles softly, “Then I guess I’ll eat.”
It’s a small victory, forged by suffering, but Iroh feels like he’s succeeded.
Dinner passes silently, Zuko says nothing, and Iroh focuses on his broth. It’s a chicken broth, so Zuko should be able to get some protein that way, Agni knows he needs it.
Zuko gets progressively more tired as dinner passes, even though it’s only 8 pm. It makes sense, he did refuse to sleep through the whole night yesterday.
“Would you like me to show you to your bedroom?” Iroh asks, and Zuko looks stunned for a moment before nodding.
Iroh’s palms sweat when he walks down the hall towards Lu Ten’s room. He finds himself asking his nephew if he likes pai sho.
His nephew doesn’t answer.
He opens the door to Lu Ten’s room, it’s the same. Lu Ten’s sheets are still unmade from the day he moved out.
Zuko frowns as if recognizing that this room belonged to someone else. But he silences his tongue. Iroh is ashamed to admit he’s grateful he doesn’t have to talk about Lu Ten today.
“There might be pajamas in the closet if you need them,” Iroh says, “Do you need anything else? Do you want me to tuck you in?”
Zuko shakes his head at both questions.
“Alright,” Iroh says, “Goodnight then, nephew.”
“Goodnight uncle.”
Zuko closes the door and a lock clicks, but not before Iroh swears he hears the words ‘Thank you’.
Later in the night, Iroh hears Zuko cry himself to sleep.