a/n: I know I haven't updated in seriously, forever. For some reason, I've lost interest in fanfiction. All my writing has been posted at LJ lately. Go to my profile for the link.

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Zuko doesn't understand.

He's also sure he might never be able to.

Carefully, he watched the waterbender begin to serve the bowl of rice, her fast and calloused fingers quick to always scoop even amounts, as she threw orders over her shoulder at the same time. Passing bowls, her blue eyes rapidly snapped from place to place, clear that a million things were running through her mind. He wasn't even sure if she was breathing the way she moved. But he was sure that with the way she worried about all the others, she'd without a second thought breathe for someone else.

Katara was the mother of these people. Of these children of war. She was the mother for the ones who had none, who missed them, and for the ones who needed them.

Zuko always watches, and he listens, but most of all he remembers.

.x.

"Thanks mom,"

Suddenly, the intended joking words that escaped from Sokka stopped in midair, hanging selfishly in the air. His smug grin was wiped away, leaving nothing behind but a bare and naked frown across his lips. Sokka hung his head, turning away from his sister. A shameful, bitter, embarrassed feeling is left churning in his stomach, his eyes blinking furiously at the ground and anywhere but up at her.

The bowl of rice sat lamely on the ground, the air now filled with an awkward silence instead of her usual voice.

Katara stared silently, because more than anybody, even more than Toph, she knows when her brother is lying.

He wasn't.

They all know it too, but he was just the one to say what was all on their minds first.

Zuko wished he knew what they felt like.

.x.

There he is, walking and walking, and minding his own business until—

Oh he's a genius.

"I-I'm s-sorry!" Zuko sputtered, "I really am!"

The firebending teacher looked at the soaked waterbender, thankful with all his heart that she was indeed a waterbender, but then he remembered exactly who this was. "K-Katara!" His eyes trailed down to the big hole in the earth he had tripped over, then back at the waterbender dripping wet on the ground. The jug he had been carrying now had a horrendous crack in it.

She didn't look to happy. Not at all.

"Let me help you up," Again he began to sputter desperately, "Please, just give me a chance!"

The others stared at the girl on the ground, her cheeks red with embarrassment and her hair plastered to her face. She could feel her elbows scraping and bleeding against the ground, her rear end aching. Sopping wet, her eyes looked over at the frantic Zuko trying to get to his feet to help her up.

For a moment, she hesitates.

Chest pounding, senses blurred, her eyes stare at the hand in front of her face. Maybe the world was actually spinning, and maybe that really was her heart beating loudly, and maybe just maybe there was a moment her hand itched to reach out and take it, just so that the suffering pain on his face would go away. Maybe, just maybe, she isn't ready to accept that. Just yet.

She doesn't take his hand.

With the swipe of her hand, she waterbended the liquid from her clothes, standing to her feet with a grunt. His offered hand fell to his side. Suddenly, the jug wasn't the only thing cracked. Clearing her throat, and ignoring the helpless stares from the other, she awkwardly walked around.

Once again, she hesitates.

"Forgiveness is not given," She whispers as she passes him, "It is earned."

Zuko knew she wasn't talking about the water anymore.

.x.

"Hey Toph," Katara called out, "You look pretty today."

The words were sweet. Like sugar. She spoke as if it were nothing but a simple fact, something so effortless to do. Katara continued what she was doing, brushing her hair with an ancient comb that was cracked around the edges. Nobody knew what would happen, in fear of the little earthbender because of the nasty mood that she woke up with.

Toph sat up straight with wide eyes, her hands fumbling and searching for the ground. Her rough digits scrambled and desperately ran across the hard earth, looking for any detection of a lie, a skipped heartbeat, a hesitation, anything at all. Suspiciously, she paused for a moment.

But none of that must have happened because she leaned back a little and smiled, if just a bit.

"Really?"

"Of course. You always do, but there's something really pretty about your hair today."

There, on her face, was the glow of which only a child can hold. She sat a little higher, absorbing the rare compliment shyly. If it were possible, he knew that the girl would have grabbed those precious and rare words her in thin air and taken them, tucking them away in her pocket forever and ever. They would have meant nothing from any other person.

For the rest of the day, Zuko noticed the earthbender walk with a happier step.

And he knew; right then and there, only Katara could do that.

.x.

"She hates me," Zuko said flatly, "No matter what I do."

Toph shrugged, flicking a pebble from the ground. Her blind eyes rested on the blank sky before them, the sound of hushed whispers behind them. The Water Tribe siblings argued amongst themselves, careful to hide their tones from the rest of the world.

"No she doesn't."

Zuko propped an elbow on his knee, giving the earthbender a sideways glance and a look that wasn't very convinced.

Toph sighed, blowing her bangs from her face with a huff. "Look, Katara and I started on a pretty rough start too. We didn't like each other at all." She gave a nod. "It's true. We argued a lot and fought." With a soft smile, she continued, "We still do."

Letting his chin fall into the palm of his hand, he shrugged and shook his head.

"It's not the same."

The earthbender sighed, studying the sound of the worried heart of this firebender.

"Zuko…s-she just doesn't trust you. That's all."

Blinking, he wasn't sure if he could believe her. Just at that moment, he noticed the waterbender herself pass by, the heated discussion between her and her brother obviously over as she stomped away. He had known exactly what it was about, too. Everybody did. Him. As she passed, from the corner of her eyes she sent him an icy glare, oh so cold like the color of her eyes.

"Katara's normally not like this. Honest. She's actually a kind, and compassionate, loving person."

"Right," Zuko lied, "Of course she is—"

Suddenly something caught his eye as he looked down at bottom of his shirt. There it was. The color blue. Where did that come from? How could it be humanly possible that such a color would exist on his Fire Nation clothes? A rip in his shirt had been sewn by a bright blue string, neatly and nicely stitched with expertise.

"What's your problem?" Toph asked, arching an eyebrow.

Zuko held his breath, his eyes trailing up from the blue to Katara not to far away.

"Nothing," he lied again, "Nothing."

Toph said nothing as she swore she could have felt his heart speed up a bit.

.x.

The air rumbled with growls.

Crowded and greasy face surrounded the big bowl of steaming rice. It might have been the same meal for the seventh time in a row, but that was alright. A hungry stomach never minds. With a smile, Katara laughed as she teased her brother with his food, taunting him with the tasty aroma.

Scooping them into each old bowl, she handed them to the youngest first, taking her time as she grinned at Sokka from the corner of her eye. Just barely enough utensils for everyone, she watched as they greedily grabbed their bowls and ran out to eat near the fire.

Sokka now pleased with a warm plate in his hand, made his way to join the others.

Leaving Zuko last.

Katara hesitantly looked up at him, the tension piercing with a heavy weight. Zuko paitently waited, always afraid he'd do something wrong around her, hands at his side. But then he noticed, she wasn't hesitating really because of him. No, it was something else.

Peering over the rim of the bowl, he noticed it.

Just a tiny amount of rice left, barely enough to feed one person. Pathetically, it sat in a dried up ball in the very bottom. Zuko gave a sigh, knowing full and well there was still two bowls to fill and that amount of food wouldn't be enough for one. He turned to leave without a word.

"Don't you want your food?"

Halting to a stop, he looked over his shoulder and saw her arm extended toward him. The last bit of rice sat in the bowl.

She shoved it toward him, and he could do nothing but take it. Confused, he looked down and then back up at her.

"But what about you? What will you eat?"

Avoiding eye contact, she shrugged and busied herself with cleaning a spoon. "I'll be fine," She curtly said, eyes downcast toward the ground. But with the sound of the others laughing and talking behind him, he stared at the kneeling waterbender before him who was willing to skip a meal for someone like him.

"No," He said, "You take it."

Snapping her head up, Katara first stared at the bowl then up at him, lifting herself up to her feet.

"I can't—"

Her stomach growled fiercely.

"Please, just do it."

And she did, grabbing the bowl from him slowly. There was no thank you. Not that he expected one. . As she turned away she began to eat hungrily, stuffing the food into her mouth, relishing each hot bite, her stomach devouring the nutrients it missed. His own stomach growled a bit, but he didn't mind.

It was as if she hadn't eaten in days.

As Zuko tore his eyes from her, and looked back down at the single unused and specking clean bowl that was Katara's, his eyes widened.

She honestly hasn't.

.x.

"I don't need your pity," She had hissed the next day, "Not now, not ever."

Katara aggressively pushed the bowl into his hands, her eyes narrowed like knives and her words even sharper. He resisted the urge to growl, clenching his teeth and inhaling a breath.

As he walked away, he noticed an extra piece of lizard-chicken in his bowl of rice.

Her silent, almost nonexistent, and hidden thank you had been a bit on the burned side, but still ever so delicious.

.x.

He once believed that Katara cried just a bit too much.

She would turn her head solemnly, letting the tears slip through her crystal orbs, biting her lip bitterly with a grimacing pain. Not everyone knows that she hides beneath the covers of her sleeping bag, curled into a ball, crying herself to sleep. Zuko had grown up with Azula as a sister, Mai as a lover, and Ty Lee as the friend who was always there.

Of course he wasn't used to these things.

But now, as he watches the waterbender wrap the Avatar with her strong arms, hugging the boy as if there were no tomorrow (there was always the possibility), he finally understood.

Katara cries for everyone.

She sheds the tears for the warrior who grew up just a little too fast, for the fighting earthbender who really isn't as tough as they think, and for the Avatar who is starting to shake under the mountain of responsibility. She's willing to give up everything for them, even if it means she must take their fears and worries for herself and bottle them up, far away where they can hurt anybody else but her.

Because if she doesn't do it, who will?

But occasionally, rarely, a few tears will fall, and they will be just for herself and no one else.

Zuko can only guess the pressure of the world is a heavy one.

Until the day she can learn to let love in for herself, instead of giving it away, she won't ever be able to let go of the grief and the anger and the emotions she hides—to heal her wounds.

.x.

Well this is just wonderful, just great, just absolutely fantastic, thank Agni, this was all he needed—

"Katara!"

Zuko nearly fell of his bed, his hands gripping at the sheets as he attempted to stay on. Startled by the leaning blue figure by his door, he felt his eyes widen when he saw her with that same old bitter frown on her face. Slightly, her cheek kissed the edge of the doorway, leaning her tan face against the wooden frame. The room was always colder when she was near.

"Look, you can stop trying to hide it," Katara bluntly said, "Your ankle is sprained, and all those weird things your doing to try and cover up your limping only makes you look like a bigger idiot."

Blinking down at the swollen foot, neatly hidden beneath his sheets where he had resided for the afternoon for a "nap", he let out a sharp sigh.

"How did you know?"

Rolling her eyes, she pushed herself toward him, the habit of healing eating her alive as she took her time.

"The others try to fool me all the time. I got used to it. It's practically become instinct."

Or maybe I worry about you.

Without further explanation, she sat herself down on the bed next to him. It creaked. And it groaned, lifting the awkward pause between the two high above their heads. What to say was not the problem, it was breathing that was the problem. With shaky breaths and sharps sighs, there was silent exchange of words and a history of mistakes vigilantly snuck behind them.

Zuko carefully slipped his foot from beneath the covers and set it on the bed. His foot was purple. An abnormally blue and purple color that should not belong the exiled prince of the Fire Nation. The swollen flesh pumped and ached, the bloated pain flowing through his veins.

Zuko grunted, his nostrils flaring as he cringed.

But Katara did nothing, as she bended the water from her pouch and placed her cold (familiar) hands on his foots and around his ankle.

Eyes fixated on the healing, Katara didn't notice as Zuko stared at her face.

"Why do you hate me so much?"

Zuko was pretty sure the water suddenly got colder.

"I don't hate you as much as I'd like to, Zuko."

Unable to understand, he furrowed his brows, his eyes staring and piercing at the earth green bed sheets, his hands gripping and digging into the cloth. Why? Grinding his teeth, he refused to look up and he refused to believe this girl and he simple would just never understand—

"Look, Zuko—"

"No," He grunted, "Listen to me."

For a moment, her eyes flash angrily with something he's so familiar with, but then they settle down. Just like the waves of the sea he's grown to fear and respect. She listens, the glow of her water reflecting off her face.

"Why, Katara? Why won't you give me another chance?"

And he sees it.

He sees the broken face of a little girl who has grown too fast, and he sees the tired and worried wrinkles that are going to come too soon, but more than all, he can see the worn out compassion spreading across her cracked lips. Katara frowns, perhaps at him, or maybe at herself.

"Because, Zuko," She whispers, "The hardest thing and the right thing are always the same."

She looks at the face of the once enemy and looks away, standing to her feet to leave the room. The moment she turned her face, Zuko frowned, his eyes begging for her to explain, to tell him why, to stay.

His ankle is healed.

One of these days, he prays it won't be the only thing.

.x.

"Thank you."

The sunset paints the orange across the sky, a timid and bleak red mixing among the cloud of colors. When Zuko looks up from the scroll he was examining, he noticed the brightest thing in the entire sky.

Her eyes.

"For what?" He asked, his words trembling at the waterbending thanking him.

"For a lot of things," She answers, her eyes drifting to where all the others are gathered. There is something about her voice that sounds different, he notes. It took a moment to realize it. No longer does it shake, or pitch, it sounds…more at peace. Like a burden has been lifted off her shoulders and the weight has been taken away.

Zuko still doesn't know what he did.

"You mean those dishes I did last night? Because really, those were no problem, I just don't like how your brother takes the entire day to do anything so I just went ahead because I don't like seeing things not done right away—"

"No," It was her turn to say, "Listen to me."

Zuko blinked, setting the scroll to the side and looking up at the girl with bright blue eyes.

"Thank you…for everything. For teaching Aang so much, he loves learning, for befriending him…I know it's made him so happy. And for Toph. You've been teaching her those breathing sessions, and how to detect firebending so she won't get hurt…And for Sokka to! He may not say it but he appreciates it when you spar with him, ever since he got his new sword and stuff…"

He still doesn't know if he should believe it.

Whether she is still thanking him, or because those are the most words she has ever said to him at one time.

"Y-You're welcome."

And now he understands.

There was only on way to get to her heart. And for Katara, she has the biggest heart of them all. But she is always breaking her heart, and giving it away to the people she loves. All over the world, the pieces to her heart are found, shattered, treasured, and remembered.

To get to Katara's heart, you must touch the ones she has given everything (including her heart) to.

The people she loves.

Her world.

Her children.

"You've taught everyone something, it means a lot—"

"Except you," He cuts her off, "I haven't taught you anything."

But she smiles, a tiny smile, one that he has been craving for so long now, and looks him in the eye. There is no anger. No suspicion. Just blue, just the big bright blue he can't believe he just noticed were pretty until now.

And forgiveness.

"No," Katara smiles, "I'm pretty sure you've taught me something."

Zuko smiled back.

"Thank you."

No, thank you, he thinks.

.x.

"You know, I've noticed something."

All eyes turn to Toph, teeth crunching and stomachs growling between each pause of breath and swallow. With the back of her hand she wiped messily at the grains of rice stuck to her sticky cheek. Katara sighed, rolling her eyes at the lack of table manners their little gang has.

"Well, the thing is, we're all one nice family right?" She continued, not willing to waste time stating the obvious, "And well…I've come to the conclusion that Katara acts like our mother and…"

Toph paused, blinking her blind eyes.

"…And Zuko kinda acts like the father."

As if on cue, three boys, one Avatar, one brother, and one father, spat out their rice and water, leaving two girls to squeal from the wet food all over everybody. "What?!" Sokka yelped, a chunk of meat hanging from his mouth. Toph shrugged, flicking something off her arm. "Just a thought…that's all…"

She didn't mention how nearly everybody's heart could tell it was true.

Somewhere in the corner, Zuko scoffed and shook his head, brushing the stray food off his clothes. But it was right then and there, it all dawned on him. His heart began to race, his fingers lingering over his chopsticks as he lost himself in a thought as wild as Toph's theory.

Maybe…maybe he was a father to these people. To these children of war.

Maybe the moments he spent to teach them everything he knows, and to protect them with his lives and to help them in any way possible were the moments that really mattered. At one point he had been jealous of these people, these lucky fools that had a mother when they needed her most. A shelter of safety to run to, a security, and a place to hide where mother knows best.

Now Zuko knows.

He'll never have that.

But he can give her everything that she doesn't have.

He can help her carry the weight of the world on her shoulders, to lift the pressure and give her the chance to breath for once. He can help. He needs to learn to be a little bit more selfless, like she has taught him so many times. The past will always catch up though, and each every time, she will have to learn again and again, because history repeats itself. He will be the head, because the blood of a leader pumps through him, but she will always be the neck, strong and supporting, till the very end.

Katara will always try to be the mother she lost, and Zuko will always try to be the father he never had, and maybe together they can learn.

They balance, he realizes.

Suddenly, his thoughts came to a stop as he heard the Avatar comment through the silence.

"...Well…they sure do fight like a married couple."

They all burst out laughing, except for the said 'married couple'. Katara rolled her eyes, faking a chuckle as she glanced at Zuko, then back at Aang. Pointing a finger at him, she tried to ignore the faint blush on her face, narrowing her eyes at the grinning monk.

"Hey, eat your rice, wise guy," Katara laughed, "Before I tell your father about your behavior."

Zuko laughed and watched the waterbender, the corner of Katara's eyes glancing at him, her warm and teasing smile across her lips.

This is the girl who had threatened him once, who has a sea of anger and fury against him roaring in her veins, and this is the girl he had hurt. But her heart is so big that she can do the littlest things that mean the world. This is the girl who could end him, who could choose to forget him, who could ruin him. But she doesn't.

Maybe he might never understand her.

But that's alright, because the wound is slowly healing between them, little by little, and it is so much more than enough.

The scars are proof to the world that they have learned—

And still are.

It was in that second—that single second—that he closed his eyes and imagined children with black hair and oceanic blue eyes.