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Aang likes his firebending teacher.
When Toph helps him, she can be… harsh. She’s like her element, strong and stubborn, and she doesn’t always understand why it doesn’t come naturally to him. She’s gotten better at being encouraging, but when she gets frustrated, she slips into yelling, and it usually results in them ending training for the day.
Katara, if anything, goes in the opposite direction, being too encouraging, or not telling him when he makes a mistake. And while he likes that she doesn’t berate him, it makes him doubt whether or not he’s really doing a good job when she praises him, or if she’s just trying to not discourage him.
Zuko does neither of those things. He isn’t overly harsh, doesn’t yell, but he tells Aang when he makes mistakes. He also doesn’t get frustrated when Aang progresses slowly, when he doesn’t get a form right away.
He’s… patient, which is a quality Aang hadn’t expected from him.
So, yeah, Aang likes Zuko.
It took time for the initial animosity to fade, given Zuko’s history, but the lack of overt hostility made way for them to make other observations about their newly-minted team firebender.
Like how he behaves… oddly, for a teenager.
Once, Aang had stumbled upon him when he’d been practicing his own firebending. He hadn’t alerted him to his presence, not wanting him to stop once he knew he was being watched.
At one point though, he executed a particularly complicated move, involving a spinning kick and a fire blast from one hand and the opposite foot.
Aang just couldn’t restrain himself.
“Wow! That is so cool!” Zuko jumps, hard, almost losing his balance.
“Wh – How long have you been standing there?”
“Awhile. Could you teach me that?”
Zuko just stares for a moment. “Uh, not yet? It’s pretty advanced, you’d probably hurt yourself if you tried it now.”
Aang pouts, but accepts without protest. “You’re such a good firebender,” he says.
And Zuko, instead of saying thanks, like a regular person, turns bright, bright pink, and doesn’t say a word.
Is he okay?
“Zuko?”
Zuko still isn’t saying anything. Did Aang say something wrong?
Maybe he’s insulted him, he was directly descended from Sozin, after all, and maybe it was just assumed that Zuko would be great at firebending.
“Sorry, was I not supposed to say that?”
Zuko finally realizes that he is supposed to be responding in some way other than just standing without moving.
“No, uh, it’s fine, just…” He stops again, and Aang waits patiently.
“You do know, I’m not that great, – at, uhm, firebending, I mean.” He’s still that weird pinkish color, and now it’s extended down his neck. “You probably just haven’t seen that many firebenders up close, most of them can do similar stuff.”
Aang is confused. “I was alive before the war was this bad, remember? I knew firebenders before, and I never saw them do anything like what you just did.”
It had been graceful. Aggressive, like most firebending tends to be, but with an inexplicable finesse that Aang knows from experience takes time to cultivate.
“Really, it’s not – Azula was always the good bender in the family. This is nothing compared to what she can do.”
“She might be more powerful,” Aang argues, “but your technique is better. More controlled.”
Zuko looks stunned, as if no one had ever said anything like that to him before. At least he doesn’t argue again, and Aang asks him questions about firebending until the astonished look turns to annoyance.
He tells Toph about it later. “I complimented Zuko’s firebending today, and he acted really weird about it,” he explains.
“Hmm,” Toph says. She’s molding them a new cooking pot from clay. They’d had to leave the air temple so quickly that they’d lost their last one. “Maybe he’s embarrassed?”
“Why would he be embarrassed? I told him he was good at something.”
Toph shrugs. “I don’t know, but yesterday I thanked him for helping me with the dishes, and his heart went crazy. Maybe he doesn’t know what to do with us being nice to him? It wasn’t that long ago when none of us trusted him, he probably just thinks the change is sudden.” Aang considers this.
“You’re probably right,” he decides.
“I usually am.”
To be sure, he asks Sokka, who’s sharpening his sword. “Does Zuko act weird when you’re nice to him?”
“Not that I’ve noticed.” He grinds an edge along the whetstone.
“Are you nice to him?” The sharpening sounds pause.
“That’s a good point. What do you mean?”
Aang explains what had happened.
“Maybe you didn’t praise him enough? He’s a prince, he’s probably used to people worshipping the ground he walks on.”
“He doesn’t act like it.”
Sokka sighs. “I don’t know, maybe that’s just how he is.”
Aang doesn’t seem convinced.
“I’ll try it out, see if you’re right, okay?”
Aang beams.
Sokka has somehow convinced Zuko to be his sparring partner. He supposes it probably isn’t too surprising, given that neither of them has anyone else to practice with.
They’d just finished a spar, both breathing heavily, when he tries it.
“It’s pretty impressive that you know how to fight with weapons when you can bend fire,” Sokka says, and Zuko promptly drops both swords.
Okay, yeah, that was strange. “Are you alright there, buddy?”
Zuko just flushes. There isn’t really a way to pretend he’d done that on purpose, so he doesn’t try.
“You don’t think it’s weird?”
“No, it’s a great idea. It makes you more adaptive, you have options in a fight. That’s a strength.”
Zuko softens somewhat. “Do you mean that?” he asks, and this is just pathetic. Sokka doesn’t think he can take it.
“Yeah,” he says. Zuko is starting to look like a baby puffin seal, eyes wide, which is frankly kind of disturbing. He tries to summon an image of Zuko the enemy, the one with a shaved head and two fists of fire.
He can’t do it.
Sokka needs to put an end to this before he has an emotion about the whole thing, so he raises his sword.
“Wanna go again?”
Zuko agrees.
After, he tells Aang, in front of Katara, which is most likely a mistake.
Ever since Zuko had gotten sick, she’d started acting like she’d never hated the guy.
Sokka knows her, and now that she’s accepted Zuko, she’ll swing all the way in the opposite direction and smother him to death.
He can see it happening now, concern radiating from her as they discuss what Zuko’s problem is. Hopefully Zuko doesn’t do anything to invoke the full power of his sister’s mother-henning.
As it turns out, it isn’t Zuko he should have worried about, but Toph.
At dinner, she loudly appreciates the cooking pot they now have, which Katara has already thanked her for making. Sokka tells her to quit it, since it’s not like it was difficult for her.
She sighs, loud and dramatic. “No one ever thanks me.”
“Thank you Toph,” Zuko says, and she flings her arms out as if to indicate that this is how she should be treated.
Sokka shoots him a look and he shrugs. “I couldn’t have done it.”
“You’re not an earthbender!”
Toph throws herself on Zuko in an exaggerated hug. “At least someone appreciates me.”
Sokka looks at Suki, trying to communicate his exasperation, and she just laughs at him. Zuko accepts the hug, patting her arm awkwardly.
Toph wriggles a little bit, wrinkling her nose. You’re bony. Why are you so skinny?”
Sokka sees Katara’s eyes narrow in suspicion. Here we go, he thinks. Zuko is protesting, but Toph isn’t having it.
She pokes him in the side. “I can feel every bone in your ribcage! Do you not eat?”
“I was a refugee!”
“Yeah, and then you went back to live in a palace.”
Which, yeah, he had. For weeks.
Katara joins in. “Toph has a point. You shouldn’t still be so thin, you could have eaten anything you wanted.”
Zuko does look smaller than he had when he was chasing them, and Sokka doesn’t think that it’s all due to him being less threatening now that he’s with them. He’s still well-muscled, but the muscles themselves have lost mass.
Zuko’s wearing a closed, guilty expression now, the one he gets whenever anyone mentions his past mistakes.
“I was stressed. I was worried that Aang might not be dead, and that my father would find out. After I realized that coming back was a mistake, I was more stressed. So. I didn’t eat a lot.”
He doesn’t meet anyone’s eyes, and Sokka knows it’s because he thinks they’ll be angry at the reminder that until recently, he wasn’t on their side.
Katara doesn’t address it at all, not to be swayed from her cause. “Well, what’s your excuse now?”
“What?”
“You should still be eating more,” she says, gesturing at his meal, which he has yet to finish.
Sokka has to contain a grin. Zuko is off-put, unsure of how to respond. He takes a tentative bite, chews, swallows, all while watching Katara. She doesn’t say a word, just sits with her arms crossed over her chest.
They sit like that for nearly five minutes while Zuko finishes his food.
“Good,” and now Katara is smiling, a complete and unsettling turnaround.
Toph is fighting to keep from laughing, generally delighted at the entire scene.
Honestly, Sokka wouldn’t put it past her to have orchestrated the whole ordeal. Toph is usually the one being pestered by Katara, and Sokka imagines it would suit her interests to divert her attention to a new subject.
Unfortunate that it has to be Zuko, who doesn’t seem to have the faintest idea of what to do with concern for his own welfare.
Katara knows she’s being ridiculous, but she also can’t help it. Once Toph pointed out Zuko’s eating habits, she starts noticing… other things that he does.
Zuko doesn’t take breaks.
Whenever she asks him for something, he doesn’t stop until he accomplishes it. This is especially noticeable when compared to her brother, who will stop doing whatever he’s asked to do as soon as he thinks he can get away with it.
Once, she’d asked Zuko if he could brush Appa while Aang trained with Toph, since he was starting to shed again, and when she’d come back hours later, he was still brushing.
Covered in a thick layer of white fur, disheveled, but still wholeheartedly committed to the task.
When she asked why he hadn’t stopped yet, he was confused, and said that fur was still coming out when he brushed the enormous bison. She’d then had to patiently explain that Appa was never going to completely stop shedding, as he was a sky bison that weighed several tons, with enough fur to cover a small field.
Zuko looked unsure, brush still half raised, and she’d had to pry it out of his hand and tell him to go sit down.
This happens with everything she asks him to do. When it’s his turn to wash, he scrubs until their eating utensils are completely spotless, cleaner than even she can get them.
She has a feeling that if she asked, he’d scrub them until his hands bled. She isn’t sure how much of this behavior is guilt driven, and how much is just what he’s like.
One night she startles awake, disturbed by a sound.
They must have fallen asleep around the fire again. Usually when this happens, Zuko stays awake long enough to make it back to his own tent, but he’d been training Aang all day, and must have been tired, because he’d been the first to fall asleep.
She blinks to clear her eyes and notices that he’s the one making noise, tossing around in his sleep.
He must be having a nightmare.
She crawls over to where he’s lying, shaking a shoulder gently.
He cries out, still not waking, so she jostles him harder and he shoots up.
It takes him a moment to come back to full awareness, blinking up at her in confusion.
He looks at the hand on his shoulder, and seems to realize what had happened, and his face colors as he apologizes profusely, still trembling faintly from whatever dream he’d been having.
He doesn’t accept her assurances that it was okay, just tells her that he’s fine, and that she should go back to sleep. He’s still tense, and she retreats to her own bedroll to give him space.
She must fall asleep, because when her eyes open again, it’s morning. She stretches, yawns, and then pauses.
Something smelled… good.
She squints, confused, at the fire that’s still going, even though it was hours later and should be a pile of ash.
Then she realizes it’s still going because Zuko is cooking something, and had clearly rebuilt it. As she wakes further, she notices the bruised look around his right eye. He must have not gone back to sleep after he’d woken her.
Before she can contemplate this, a bowl is being shoved into her hands by a nervous firebender.
“I made breakfast.”
Unsure of what to say, she eats some of the food she’d been handed. It looks like a rice porridge, overlaid with bits of smoked fish. Her eyes widen as she takes a bite.
“This is incredible! You can cook?”
Zuko leans back to sit on his heels. “Not really. I just watched how you made it, and then I added some of the spices I brought with me.”
She takes another bite, savoring the feeling of not being the one cooking, for once. She doesn’t care what he says, he clearly knows how to cook, because this is the best breakfast she’s had in weeks.
Sokka wakes up, summoned by the smell of cooked food. He shuffles over and serves himself, moaning when he takes a bite. “Katara, you’ve outdone yourself,” he mumbles around the mouthful.
Katara grins. “I didn’t make that Sokka, Zuko did.”
Sokka looks like he’s falling in love. “We have two people that can cook?”
He takes Zuko by the shoulders. “How could you have kept this power from us?”
Judging by the expression on Zuko’s face, it’s the last time he’ll be using his ‘power’ to their benefit. She chokes on a laugh, and forgets to ask him if he’d ever gone back to sleep.
Suki ultimately decides that she doesn’t mind the group’s stray prince. It helped that he’d rescued her from prison, didn’t help that he’d once attacked her village.
A few days after they depart from the air temple, he finds her, shifting from foot to foot.
He doesn’t immediately say anything, and she raises her eyebrows in a question.
“I wanted to apologize.” She doesn’t move, doesn’t yell or try to hit him, so he takes it as a cue to continue.
“Um, I’m sorry that I attacked your village. It was wrong, and I never should have done it. I was so focused on myself that I didn’t consider who I might be hurting, and I understand if you can’t forgive me. But I want you to know that I’m sorry, and will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you and everyone I’ve caused pain.”
He’s genuinely regretful, which is rare in the apologies Suki has received in her life.
She looks away, at where the sun is starting to set. “It must have been hard to leave your home.”
Zuko is confused. “What?”
“When you left to come find Aang and the others, you had to leave everything you’d worked for years to get back.” He’s still uncertain, unbalanced by the change in subject.
She turns to face him. “Our village is okay. When Aang put out the fires, you didn’t relight them. You could have. Any Fire Nation general would have made sure the island burned, sent a message that harboring the Avatar wouldn’t be tolerated, and it would have worked.”
He looks horrified at the thought, confirming her intuition.
“You didn’t attack us until we fought you. There weren’t any severe injuries. Maybe you shouldn’t have done it, but I don’t hate you for doing what you thought was your duty.”
Zuko seems generally astonished, as if this conversation had not gone at all like he’d expected.
She clarifies, so there can be no mistake. “I forgive you, Zuko.”
He tilts his head down. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” he says wearily, which does make her want to hit him.
“Zuko. I’ve done things in my life that I regret. I know what it feels like. You sacrificed a lot to be here, risked your own life to help Sokka, to help me. I won’t make that harder for you.”
She puts a hand on his shoulder. “Also, remember I’ve met your sister. You’re going to have to try a lot harder if you want to match that level of crazy.”
He laughs, surprised. “You got me there.”
“Friends?” she asks.
“Friends,” he agrees.
So, yeah, she doesn’t mind Zuko.
He has a temper, and gets frustrated easily, but he’s helpful, a good teacher, and painfully earnest, in his own way. It’s kind of endearing.
He also commits himself to things with a single-minded focus, which wasn’t wonderful before he joined them, but is now that he has.
All this to say, she feels a little bad watching him struggle to deal with the well-meaning concern from the rest of their little group. He seemed to cope a lot better with their anger and mistrust than he does with their acceptance.
Which is probably sad, but it’s also funny to watch, so she doesn’t intercede.
She has a feeling it will work out, regardless.
Sometimes the group tells stories as they sit around the fire.
Aang tells them about his friends from before. How he misses them, wishes he could see them again, but also funny things. How he’s grateful for the time he had with them, and how he’s happy to have made such good new friends.
Suki tells them about the Kyoshi warriors, about her time in Ba Sing Se, and Toph regales them with descriptions of her earthbending matches, tells them about her many triumphs, and how capable they made her feel.
Sokka and Katara’s stories are often the funniest, with a well of shared memories to draw from.
Zuko usually just listens, not sure they’d want to hear about his own experiences, since many of them involve hunting down the last great hope for the world.
Sometimes they ask anyway, but he always denies them with a shake of his head, asking a question about someone else to divert them.
He’s starting to think that this might not be the best idea. They’ve been treating him differently, recently. Aang and Sokka have been… overly nice, and Katara has been watching him closely, even more than when she’d clearly disliked him.
He wonders if they expect something from him, if he should be contributing more. Zuko doesn’t know what they want, doesn’t know how this is supposed to work. Figuring out other people had never been one of his strengths.
He figures he can at least start by offering something from his own past, since that’s one thing he knows they’ve expressed interest in. Something safe, something that won’t shatter the tentative peace they’ve built between them.
“She would always win our snowball fights! Little did I know that it’s because she was a waterbender!” Sokka swings his gaze accusingly towards Katara, who giggles.
“Yeah, I would melt the water under his feet and then refreeze it.”
Sokka gestures. “See! I had no idea why I would trip every time I tried to throw!”
He falls back with a dramatic huff. “Little sisters, you can never trust them.”
Zuko can work with this.
“I know what you mean,” he says, and they look at him, encouraging.
“One time, Azula convinced me to climb to the roof of the palace before she shoved me off.” He lets out a lighthearted laugh, realizes he might have missed the mark when no one else does.
“She pushed you off a roof?” Katara asks. “Were you okay?”
Zuko shrugs, “I broke my wrist trying to catch myself, but I was fine, other than that.”
They look at him, speechless.
He doesn’t understand. Was it not an entertaining story?
Maybe he should try another.
“Um, in one of the meeting chambers, in the palace, the curtains had these decorative rope ties, right?”
They still have these blank, tight expressions on their faces. He doesn’t know what that means, but no one interrupts, so he continues his story.
“They hung down, and we’d climb them. Sometimes we would race, and one time she got the idea to hang me from them so she would win.”
They’re still frowning, so this one might not be much better.
He’d thought that this one was more like Sokka’s snowball story.
Sokka interjects. “Like, from your arms?”
“No, she, uh, tied hers around my neck, and knocked my hands off. So she could climb mine.”
“Okay, I’m an only child, but even I know that’s fucked up,” Toph says.
Zuko isn’t sure what their problem is. “Is that not just what little sisters are like?”
Katara looks faintly ill. “I would never try to actually hurt Sokka.”
Zuko is starting to understand why they’re so upset. “She wasn’t trying to hurt me! She knew I could burn through it. It’s like a game to her.”
“Yeah,” Sokka says, throat dry. “A game where she tries to murder her brother for fun.”
“Did she do things like that often?” Suki asks.
“No?” he denies, and none of them need Toph to tell them that he isn’t telling the truth. Katara wonders how she ever thought of him as a liar when he’s this bad at it.
“Did your parents not say anything?” Aang asks.
“Well, my mom used to get mad at her a lot, but after she left… My father never cared what we did. Sometimes when we trained together, she’d burn me on purpose, but he encouraged that. He said that it might help me learn if nothing else did.”
“Do you not see the issue with that?” Sokka asks.
Zuko is starting to get angry, not sure how to interpret their reactions.
“I know that my father was wrong, okay? I would never do something like that, I’m not going to burn Aang just because he won’t focus, or because he doesn’t master a form quickly enough.”
“Zuko, we’re not worried that you’re going to hurt Aang,” Katara reassures, but Zuko keeps going.
“Well then what’s the problem!? You guys are acting weird! I’m trying to do what you want; I’m trying to make up for everything I’ve done, but you keep saying things, telling me that I’m a good firebender, or that it’s impressive that I know how to use swords. You don’t have to patronize me! I’m used to criticism; I can take it.”
“Zuko…” Katara interjects.
“And then there’s you! You keep telling me to eat more, to sleep or, or – whatever! Why are you doing that? Why does it matter to you what I do? I–“
Toph stands up, stamps her foot so hard that the earth moves.
“How are you this stupid?”
This reignites him, the fire flaring a little as he opens his mouth, but Toph cuts him off before he can start.
“We do those things because we care about you, you idiot. Friends tell each other the things they appreciate about one another; friends make sure you’re taken care of when it’s clear you aren’t taking care of yourself. Katara wants you to eat and sleep because she’s worried you’re not doing enough of those things, and when we thank and compliment you, we mean it!”
For a moment, the only noise is from the fire, crackling in the night air. Zuko looks astonished at her outburst.
“All that, because you… care?” he asks softly, and he’s getting that look again, the wide-eyed, puffin seal variety, and Sokka doesn’t know if he can withstand it a second time.
“For being actual royalty, your life has kind of sucked,” he says. “It’s concerning. And it really is impressive that you can firebend and fight with swords.”
“It’s just,” Zuko’s eyes are starting to look a little wet in the firelight, which is even more alarming. “My uncle’s the only one who’s ever – I didn’t, I didn’t realize –“
“That friends could be family too?” Aang asks.
Zuko’s throat closes, so he just nods.
“I think this calls for a group hug,” Toph says.
There are token protests, but they gather together without too much prodding. Zuko stays where he is, sitting upright, still and unmoving.
“Zuko, this hug is for you, so you’d better get over here,” Toph emphasizes.
He approaches them tentatively, resting an arm around Toph, Aang on his other side. Aang turns at the contact and throws both of his arms around Zuko. The others follow suit, surrounding him on all sides.
Zuko is stiff at first, but Toph squeezes her arms where they rest around his middle, and she feels him relax, tension pouring from his lithe form.
“This is very touchy-feely,” Sokka says.
“Shut up Sokka.”
“Okay.”
After, Zuko takes their kindness a little better. He still flushes red when they complement him, but he doesn’t reject them, and he stops trying to escape whenever anyone expresses concern for his wellbeing.
It’s progress.
Toph is proud that her combination of blunt honesty and confrontation had had a positive effect for once. He’s even started to open up a little, telling them tidbits about his time in exile.
He’d been reluctant after what had happened last time, but they reassure him that they want to hear, and that they won’t judge him for anything that he told them. Sokka even does a whole bit about trust circles, which is really dumb, but also somehow works, because Zuko clearly feels more comfortable
It doesn’t stop their hearts from beating, hard and angry, when he shares a detail that strikes a little too close to what they’d heard the first night, but no one interrupts, careful to seem open and understanding.
One night, he mentions how much he’s been trying to emulate his great-grandfather, and they must all look very worried at this proclamation, because he hastens to correct them.
“No! Sorry, I didn’t mean Sozin, I meant Roku.”
This isn’t better. Aang chokes and sprays the tea he’d been drinking right into Zuko’s face.
“Your other great-grandfather is Avatar Roku!?”
Zuko wipes away the tea that is now dripping from him, disgruntled. “Yeah? He was my mother’s grandfather. That’s why my father married her, Azulon must have wanted to strengthen the line.”
Sokka sounds like he can’t breathe. “Do you know what this means?” Zuko does not, in fact, know what this means.
“It means Aang is your great-grandfather.”
“No,” Zuko says, with dawning horror. “No that’s not–“
“Great-grandson!” Aang cries, flinging himself atop Zuko in a hug, while Zuko regrets saying anything at all.
“This doesn’t count, you’re not Roku” Zuko’s voice is muffled from where his face is buried in Aang’s midsection. Suki takes pity, pulling the eager airbender off him. Aang’s excitement is not to be stifled, however.
“It’s still my past life! And I carry the other Avatars with me all the time.” Now it’s Zuko’s turn to lose his breath.
“You can… do you think he’d be…” he trails off.
“Do I think he’d be what?”
“…Nevermind. It’s stupid.”
“What is it? I can ask him anything you want.”
Now Zuko looks panicked. “No! You don’t need to ask him anything.”
He fidgets uncomfortably.
“I just, wondered if he’d. Um. Be proud.”
“Of course he’d be proud Zuko! I don’t need to ask him to know that.”
“Oh. Well, that’s nice. To hear.”
“Anything for my great-grandson.”
Avatar or not, Toph thinks Zuko might still kill him.
Weeks later, after they’ve settled on Ember Island, Suki finds herself staring at a portrait, one of the few left in the estate. Zuko had confessed he’d burned some when he’d last been there.
She couldn’t blame him.
He didn’t burn this one, however.
It’s an ink portrait of a small boy, sitting with one of the most beautiful women Suki’s ever seen. The child at her side is nestled in close to her, despite the formal positioning of their bodies.
“That’s my mother,” a voice next to her says. She turns to find Zuko. He isn’t looking at her, but the portrait. It’s a wistful kind of gaze, and Suki lets it rest between them.
“She was always the best part of our family,” Zuko adds, tracing the lines of the portrait with his own eyes.
“I don’t know,” Suki says. “I think she might disagree. You turned out alright, after all.”
Zuko smiles, and he doesn’t fight her, doesn’t argue. “Thanks,” he says, the acknowledgement low, hardly audible.
She continues to stare, at him this time, with significance.
He pulls his own eyes away to notice the look she’s giving him.
“What?” She raises his eyebrows, and he groans.
“Not you too!”
“Am I not allowed to be happy that you finally learned how to accept a compliment?”
Now he blushes, and she tries not to laugh. It’s still too easy.
The moment settles, but Zuko’s smiling now.
It’s a good expression on him.
“Surprise Attack!”
Suddenly, a blur of orange and yellow flies into view, and in the next instant Zuko is on the floor, sputtering.
“What the –!“
Aang rises gracefully from where he’d tackled Zuko with force.
“Sorry,” he says, not sounding at all contrite. “Sokka said I should practice ‘stealth maneuvers.’ ” He puts the words in quotes, gesturing.
“Perfect form Aang!” The teen himself strides into the room, all too pleased with himself. “Although, I would suggest not announcing the attack as you execute it.”
“What’s the point of that!?” Zuko demands, indignant.
“Ah! It looks like I have acquired another pupil. Allow me to explain the dynamics of the form.”
Zuko, still lying on the floor, looks like he wishes the portrait would fall off the wall and crush him.
“Why me?”
It’s rhetorical, but Aang answers anyway.
“Katara and Toph are scary.”
“I could set you on fire.” A small flame springs to life in one palm, demonstrating his point.
“Yeah, but you won’t.”
At this, Zuko sighs, and collapses back to the ground.
No, he won’t.