A/N: I own nothing of Avatar: The Last Airbender.

So I decided to write another vignette, this time describing Zuko's first foray into vigilantism. Reviews are much appreciated!

Some nights he would lay awake wondering what kind of lives other people led if they weren't princes or if their mothers hadn't disappeared one night or if their fathers hadn't scarred them. Those people, were they happy? They hadn't lost their honor, had they? Did they have any honor to begin with? Zuko hadn't known his honor was so tangible a commodity until his father said he had lost it. And that he must regain it.

And now?

In the steely black of his cabin such an endeavor seemed impossible. The silence of his room was drowned out by the voices in his head, his father's, his uncle's, his sister's, his mother's. Never forget who you are. Those words rung in his ears, the last words his mother had spoken to him, but they weren't a comfort. Since his banishment they had become a sort of torture, something he had tossed and turned over as the ship rocked, trying to lull him to sleep. Who was he? That was easy. He was the crown prince of the Fire Nation. He was proud and regal and… banished.

He was nothing. Not anymore.

Most of the crew was sleeping. Only several guards remained on duty and it would not be difficult for a stealthy and agile intruder to go unnoticed. In his black clothes Zuko would have blended into the night quite well, if it were not for his blue mask. But that was who he was now, the Blue Spirit once again.

Like a ghost, the Blue Spirit slipped past the guards and onto the pier. This night the ship was docked at a small Earth Kingdom market. Their supplies were not low, but Iroh's curio collection had become stale. Zuko had been displeased at first, but was now glad they were near land. The Blue Spirit needed to stretch his legs.

There was no real purpose behind the Blue Spirit's meanderings through the sleeping village. He had simply appeared for the challenge. Would anyone notice a masked stranger creeping through alleyways and vaulting over fences in the middle of the night?

No, of course not. The Blue Spirit may not even be corporeal for all the attention he garnered. These villagers were not very vigilant at all. Turning a corner, the Blue Spirit realized how blind these peasants could be.

There were two of them, young men he guessed by their stature and movement, with daggers in their hands and sacks slung over their backs. From behind a building the masked man watched them creep toward a small picken coop. Zuko recognized it from earlier in the day when Iroh had offered to buy a couple pickens for dinner that night. The owner refused him, however, explaining that their only source of income was fresh eggs and they simply could not afford to part with any of their livestock.

And yet these two men neared the coop, glancing behind them every so often, but seeing no one. The Blue Spirit had retreated into the impenetrable shadows and plotted his next move.

Who was he to interfere with the sordid doings of two villagers? He owed nothing to this town, or to the family who owned the coop. In all likelihood they probably would hate him if they knew who he was. But if was going to do nothing than why was he here at all? Why don a mask and carry a weapon if he wasn't going to use them?

What are you doing, Zuko? There was no answer for that because that wasn't the question he should be asking himself.

What is the Blue Spirit doing? And that made more sense because Zuko was not present. Zuko was still on his ship, in his cabin, desperately seeking something impossible to attain.

The Blue Spirit remained hidden in the dark but moved swiftly toward the two thieves. They had forced the latch on the coop and one ducked inside slowly, careful not to upset the pickens. The other thief stood watch by the door but did not see the silent vigilante approaching from behind.

Before the lookout could react or turn around or even hear the masked man approach, he had fallen face first onto the ground. He wouldn't stir until dawn. The other man was dispatched just as easily. The Blue Spirit accosted him upon his exit, his sack full of clucking pickens. The Blue Spirit went for the bag first, unwilling to let the farm animals come to any harm as he quickly deflected the thief's dagger and hit him with the hilt of his sword. The wind knocked out of him, the thief could only wheeze as this frightening masked stranger bound and gagged both him and his partner. After the pickens were safely deposited back in their roosts the Blue Spirit departed, the two thieves left to await the scorn and judgment of their fellow villagers.

It was far too easy. And it was far too fun.

Upon his return to the ship, Zuko felt something strange stir within him. It was a feeling he couldn't quite place but it might have been something he had felt before. It was something from a long time ago, when his mother sang him to sleep or his cousin played with him all afternoon. Those memories were so distant and the feeling in his stomach was so unfamiliar that he didn't have a name for it, not yet anyway.

He felt his lips turn slightly upward as he removed his dark clothing and slid into bed. The smile was so slight, so small, that had anyone been watching they would not have recognized it. But Zuko did. And he was glad, once again, for the Blue Spirit giving him something he had been so long without.

Two hours before the sun crept over the horizon Zuko closed his eyes and drifted into a quiet and unperturbed sleep.