The streets of Republic City were alive with the usual chaos of an early evening. The buzz of Satomobiles filled the air, their lights reflecting off the sleek skyscrapers. Vendors hollered to passersby, offering everything from steaming bowls of noodles to trinkets that clattered in the breeze. Zuko pushed through the crowd, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his tattered coat. His dark hair, disheveled as always, fell over his sharp blue eyes, eyes that betrayed an anger he'd never been able to shake.
"Another night," he muttered to himself, dodging a group of kids chasing a ball. "Another wasted day in this cursed city."
Zuko didn't know why he kept coming back here. Maybe it was because it was the only place where he could disappear. In Republic City, nobody cared who he was. He wasn't the third son of Avatar Aang. He wasn't the disappointment of the Air Nomad lineage. He was just Zukoāno titles, no expectations, no crushing weight of a legacy he couldn't live up to.
His thoughts were interrupted by a sharp whistle behind him.
"Zuko! Hey, Zuko!"
He didn't need to turn around to know who it was. "What do you want, Lin?"
Chief Lin Beifong, Republic City's steadfast law enforcer and daughter of Toph, stormed up to him. Her sharp green eyes bore into him with the usual mix of frustration and pity.
"You know what I want," she said, crossing her arms. "A report came in about a fight at the Harbor District. Broken tables, shattered glass, and a very pissed-off dock manager. Don't tell me you weren't there."
Zuko smirked, leaning lazily against a lamppost. "Maybe I was. Maybe I wasn't. What's it to you?"
Lin's glare deepened. "You're eighteen, Zuko. You're not a kid anymore. You think you can just keep running around this city, wrecking everything in your path, and get away with it?"
"I'm not running," he shot back. "I'm surviving. Big difference."
Lin sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Your father would beā"
"Don't," Zuko interrupted, his tone icy. "Don't you dare bring him into this."
For a moment, Lin seemed taken aback by the venom in his voice. But she recovered quickly. "You're not the only one who's been through stuff, you know. My momā"
"Don't give me the 'Toph was tough on me too' speech, Lin," Zuko snapped. "Your mom actually gave a damn about you. My father didn't even look at me unless it was to remind me how much of a disappointment I was."
Lin stared at him, her expression softening just slightly. "Zuko, you don't have to do this. You don't have to let this anger define you."
He laughed bitterly, pushing off the lamppost. "Anger's all I've got, Lin. It's the only thing that's real."
Before she could say anything else, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the throng of people.
---
By the time Zuko stumbled into his small apartment on the edge of the city, he was exhausted. The place was a messāclothes strewn across the floor, empty bottles lining the counter, and a faint smell of stale food hanging in the air. He collapsed onto the couch, letting out a long sigh.
His thoughts drifted, unbidden, to his family. To his father.
Aang's face swam into his mind, calm and serene as always, except for that one timeāthe only timeāhe'd truly lost his temper. Zuko could still hear his father's voice, sharp and cutting like a blade.
"You have no idea what it means to carry the weight of an entire world on your shoulders," Aang had said that day. "I've sacrificed everything for balance, for peace, and you mock me for it?"
And Zuko, in his arrogance, had laughed. He'd laughed and said the words that had haunted him ever since.
"You're not a savior. You're a failure. You couldn't even save your own family."
The memory made his stomach twist. He'd wanted to hurt his father, to make him feel the same pain he felt every day. But instead, he'd only pushed him further away.
The sound of a knock at the door jolted him back to the present.
"Zuko," a familiar voice called.
He groaned, dragging himself off the couch. "What now?"
When he opened the door, his mother stood there, her kind face lined with worry.
"Mom," he said, his voice softer than he intended.
"Can I come in?" Katara asked, her tone gentle but firm.
He stepped aside, letting her enter. She looked around the messy apartment, her brow furrowing slightly, but she didn't say anything. Instead, she turned to him, her blue eyes filled with concern.
"You've been avoiding us," she said.
"I'm not avoiding anyone," he muttered, collapsing back onto the couch.
Katara sat down beside him, placing a hand on his arm. "Zuko, I know things haven't been easy for you. I know you feel like you don't belong. But you're my son, and I love you."
He scoffed, pulling away. "Yeah, sure. You love me. But what about him? What about Dad?"
Katara's expression faltered for a moment, and Zuko felt a pang of guilt.
"Your father loves you too," she said quietly.
"Don't lie to me," he snapped. "He doesn't care about me. He never did. All he cared about was Tenzin and his stupid airbending. The rest of us were justā¦ extras. Afterthoughts."
"That's not true," Katara said, her voice firm. "Your father had a lot of responsibilitiesā"
"Yeah, I know," Zuko interrupted, his voice rising. "The Avatar, the Air Nomads, the world. I've heard it all before. But what about us, Mom? What about his family?"
Katara's eyes glistened with unshed tears, and for a moment, Zuko regretted his outburst. But the anger in his chest wouldn't let him stop.
"I just wanted him to see me," he said, his voice breaking. "To see that I wasn't a failure. But no matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried, it was never enough."
Katara reached out to him again, but he stood up, pacing the room.
"Do you know what it's like to be the only one in a family of legends who can't do anything special? To be nothing?"
"Zuko, you're not nothing," Katara said, her voice trembling. "You're strong, and brave, andā"
"I'm not like you, or Dad, or Tenzin," he said, cutting her off. "I'm justā¦ me. And that's never been good enough."
For a long moment, neither of them said anything. The only sound was the faint hum of the city outside.
Finally, Katara stood, her expression resolute.
"I can't make you see what I see," she said. "But I need you to know that you're not alone. You never were."
She moved to the door, pausing to look back at him.
"When you're ready to come home, we'll be there."
And then she was gone, leaving Zuko alone in the silence of his apartment.
---
Hours later, Zuko found himself wandering the city again, his thoughts a storm of anger and regret. He hated how much his mother's words had affected him, how they'd cracked the armor he'd spent years building around himself.
He turned a corner, his eyes landing on the glowing sign of a dive bar. Without thinking, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The bar was dimly lit and smelled of smoke and spilled liquor. Zuko made his way to the counter, ordering a drink and downing it in one go.
"Rough night?" the bartender asked, raising an eyebrow.
Zuko smirked bitterly. "Rough life."
The bartender chuckled, pouring him another drink. "Aren't we all, kid?"
Zuko didn't respond, his thoughts drifting once again to his father, his family, and the life he felt he'd been cheated out of.
As the night wore on, he found himself surrounded by strangers, their laughter and conversations blending into a dull roar. For a moment, he let himself forget. Forget the pain, the anger, the emptiness.
But deep down, he knew it was only temporary. The scars of his past weren't so easily drowned out. And as he stumbled back into the night, the weight of it all pressed down on him once more, heavier than ever.
Zuko stirred awake, the cold, hard surface of the cell bench pressing into his back. His head throbbed, the dull ache twisting behind his eyes like a vice. He groaned, lifting his hands to his faceāone came away sticky, smeared with dried blood.
He blinked against the dim light of the cell, trying to piece together the night before. His memories were fragmentedālaughter, a haze of alcohol, voices jeering in the bar, and then... nothing.
"Great," he muttered, running a hand through his unkempt hair. "What the hell did I do this time?"
Before he could think further, he heard the sound of heavy boots clicking against the tiled floor outside. The rhythm was sharp, deliberate, and unmistakably familiar.
"Here we go," Zuko mumbled, leaning back against the wall.
The metal door swung open, and in strode Toph Beifong, Chief of the Republic City Metalbending Police. Her sharp, no-nonsense demeanor preceded her like a storm cloud, and her milky green eyes swept over the room like she could see every detail despite her blindness.
Trailing behind her was her daughter Lin, arms crossed and wearing a similar scowl.
"Well, look who finally decided to wake up," Toph said, her gravelly voice laced with irritation. She stopped just outside the bars, gripping them with her gloved hands. "How's the hangover treating you, kid?"
Zuko sighed, rubbing his temples. "It's been better. What am I in for this time?"
Toph smirked, shaking her head. "What *aren't* you in for? You put six men in the hospital last night. Six. Broken bones, dislocated jawsāreal pretty work."
Zuko frowned, his mind racing. "I don't remember that."
"Of course, you don't," Toph said, crossing her arms. "You were too busy chugging whatever rotgut you could find. Honestly, I don't even know how you stayed standing."
Zuko shrugged, trying to mask the unease creeping into his chest. "If I did it, they probably deserved it."
"You'd think that, wouldn't you?" Toph said, raising an eyebrow. "You're lucky none of them are pressing charges, or you'd be looking at some serious time behind bars."
"You gonna let me out, or is this one of those 'teach me a lesson' situations?" Zuko shot back, his tone casual.
Toph's smirk faded, replaced by a glare sharp enough to cut steel. "You think this is a joke? I've had to arrest you more times than I care to count, Zuko. You're not just a pain in your dad's assāyou're a pain in mine too."
Zuko leaned against the wall, his cocky smirk returning. "Oh, come on, Aunt Toph. You love me, admit it."
Toph groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You're lucky I don't bend your sorry ass into a pretzel and throw you into the harbor."
"Can I watch?" Lin muttered, her voice dry.
Zuko ignored her, turning his attention back to Toph. "So, are you gonna let me out or not?"
Toph opened her mouth to respond, but the door to the holding area creaked open, and all three of them turned.
Zuko's smirk faltered as his father stepped into the room.
Aang's expression was calm, but there was no mistaking the disappointment in his eyes. It hit Zuko like a punch to the gut, even though he tried to pretend it didn't.
"Well, this just keeps getting better," Zuko muttered under his breath.
Aang said nothing as he approached the cell. Toph and Lin stepped aside, giving the Avatar a clear path to his son.
"Great," Zuko said, crossing his arms. "Here comes the lecture."
Aang stood silently for a moment, his eyes scanning Zuko's bloody knuckles and disheveled appearance. The quiet was unbearable.
"Can you two give us a minute?" Aang asked, his voice calm but firm.
Toph snorted. "Sure thing, Twinkletoes. Don't go easy on him."
She patted Zuko's shoulder on her way out, her metalbending gauntlet clanking lightly against his skin. Lin followed without a word, casting Zuko a look that was equal parts pity and exasperation before leaving the room.
Once they were alone, Aang stepped closer to the cell. Zuko avoided his gaze, fishing a cigarette from his pocket.
"You're not lighting that," Aang said.
Zuko struck a match, but before he could bring it to the cigarette, Aang flicked his fingers. A small burst of air snuffed out the flame.
"Seriously?" Zuko said, glaring up at his father.
Aang's expression didn't change. "Look at me, Zuko."
Zuko hesitated, then reluctantly met his father's gaze.
"Do you even understand what you've done?" Aang asked, his tone measured but heavy with disappointment.
"Yeah, yeah," Zuko said, waving him off. "Six guys in the hospital. Aunt Toph already gave me the rundown."
"This isn't just about last night," Aang said, his voice rising slightly. "This is about all of it. The drinking, the fights, the way you throw your life away like it doesn't matter."
Zuko laughed bitterly, shaking his head. "You care about my life now? That's new."
"Don't do that," Aang said, his voice sharp. "Don't act like I don't care about you."
"You don't," Zuko snapped. "You never have. You're too busy playing the Avatar to notice what's right in front of you."
Aang's jaw tightened, his composure beginning to crack. "That's not fair, Zuko."
"Fair?" Zuko said, his voice rising. "You want to talk about fair? How about the fact that you've spent my entire life pretending I don't exist? How about the fact that you only care about Tenzin and your stupid Air Nation?"
"Stop it," Aang said, his voice firm.
"No!" Zuko shouted. "You want me to stop? Fine. Stop pretending you care. Stop acting like you give a damn about me, because we both know you don't."
Aang took a deep breath, his hands clenching at his sides. For a moment, Zuko thought he might lose his temper, but instead, he spoke softly.
"You're right," Aang said.
Zuko blinked, caught off guard. "What?"
"You're right," Aang repeated. "I haven't been there for you the way I should have. I thought I was doing what was bestāfocusing on Tenzin, rebuilding the Air Nationābut I see now that I was wrong. I failed you, Zuko. And I'm sorry."
For the first time in years, Zuko didn't have a response. He stared at his father, his anger wavering.
"I'm not perfect," Aang continued. "I've made mistakesāmore than I can count. But I love you, Zuko. And I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make things right."
Zuko looked away, his chest tightening. "It's too late for that."
"It's never too late," Aang said softly.
The silence stretched between them, heavy and unspoken.
"Can I go now?" Zuko asked finally, his voice cold.
Aang sighed, stepping back. "Yes. But this can't happen again, Zuko. Please."
Without another word, Zuko shoved his way past his father and out of the cell. As he walked down the hallway, Toph's voice called out.
"Hey, kid!" she said, leaning casually against the wall. "Try not to screw up again, will you? You're giving me gray hairs."
Zuko didn't respond. He kept walking, the weight of his father's words pressing heavy on his mind.
Aang stood in the middle of the empty cell block, his shoulders slumping as he let out a long, weary sigh. He pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes against the growing throb in his temples.
"He's going to be the death of me," Aang muttered under his breath.
"Join the club," Toph said, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed. She tilted her head in his direction, a hint of sympathy in her normally sharp tone. "You know, Twinkletoes, I didn't sign up for a lifetime of babysitting your kids."
Aang turned toward her, his expression somewhere between exhaustion and frustration. "I appreciate your help, Toph. I really do. But Zuko... he's not just a kid causing trouble anymore. He's becoming a problemāa big one."
Toph snorted, her fingers drumming lightly against the metal of her gauntlet. "No kidding. People are starting to notice, Aang. It's not just me and Lin picking up after his messes. Folks are talking. They're saying he's getting a free pass because he's your kid."
Aang flinched, the weight of her words hitting him harder than he expected. "I know. And that's the last thing I want. I've always tried to keep my duties as the Avatar separate from my personal life, but Zuko..."
Toph pushed off the doorframe, walking toward him with her hands resting on her hips. "Zuko's testing you in ways you never thought possible, huh?"
Aang nodded, running a hand over his shaved head. "The only thing keeping the newspapers from running stories about him is the goodwill I've built over the years. But even that won't last forever. If he keeps this up, it's only a matter of time before someone decides to stop protecting me."
Toph raised an eyebrow. "And then what? Republic City turns on him? On you?"
Aang sighed, leaning back against the wall. "I don't know. Maybe." He paused, his voice dropping. "Sometimes, I wonder if I made a mistake with him. If I wasn't there for him enough."
"You're finally admitting it, huh?" Toph said, her tone lighter, though not unkind. "You've got the weight of the world on your shoulders, Aang. You're not gonna be perfect. But yeah, you messed up with him. And now he's making sure everyone knows it."
Aang's eyes softened, his voice tinged with regret. "I thought I was doing what was bestāfocusing on rebuilding the Air Nomads, teaching Tenzin. I didn't realize how much it was hurting Zuko until it was too late."
Toph tilted her head, her expression unreadable. "So what are you gonna do about it? Keep letting him punch his way through half of Republic City, or are you actually gonna step up and deal with this?"
Aang frowned, considering her words. "I don't know if I can reach him anymore. He's so... angry. At me, at the world, at himself."
"Of course, he's angry," Toph said, her voice sharp but not unkind. "You're the Avatar. The guy who's supposed to be the ultimate problem-solver. But from his point of view, you've spent his whole life solving everyone's problems but his."
Aang winced, the truth in her words cutting deeper than he cared to admit. "I've tried, Toph. I really have. But no matter what I do, it's never enough."
Toph shook her head, her tone softening just slightly. "You're trying to fix him like he's some kind of broken pipe. But Zuko doesn't need the Avatar. He needs his dad. Someone who'll sit him down, look him in the eye, and actually listen for once."
Aang looked at her, his expression filled with uncertainty. "You think it's that simple?"
Toph shrugged, a small smirk tugging at her lips. "Not simple, Twinkletoes. Just necessary."
They stood in silence for a moment, the weight of the conversation settling heavily between them. Finally, Aang straightened, his resolve hardening.
"You're right," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "I can't keep ignoring this. I have to do something before it's too late."
Toph clapped a hand on his shoulder, her smirk widening. "That's the spirit. Now go get your kid before he finds another bar to tear apart."
Aang chuckled weakly, the sound tinged with exhaustion. "Thanks, Toph. For everything."
"Don't mention it," she said, stepping back toward the door. "Seriously. Don't. I don't want anyone thinking I'm going soft."
As she disappeared down the hallway, Aang leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes for a brief moment of peace.
Somewhere, deep down, he held onto the hope that Zuko could still be reachedāthat there was still a chance to rebuild the bridge between them before it crumbled entirely.