Chapter 1

Zuko, tacitly, had become the primary hunter of the group.

While Aang and Katara foraged, Teo and the boys (Zuko could never remember those strange appellations, Crossbow and Bumblebee, maybe?) goofed off and occasionally came up with something useful, and Sokka played at being a strong warrior-hunter but more often than not eventually became hunted rather than hunter, Zuko would go off with his twin blades and his sharp eyesight, taking Toph along since she could sense the animal's vibrations from a much farther distance than he ever could. The two would return, triumphant, with some mid-size animal or another and Katara's eyes would light up and Sokka would take to alternately drooling and boasting about how if only this or that hadn't happened, he could have brought home a much bigger one and in half the time, to boot.

Zuko also treasured the time alone; though Toph almost always accompanied him during these missions, by necessity they were both required to be quiet, and he always made sure she was a safe distance away should the prey have family around which would attack. In those tense moments, waiting for just the right angle, or following animal tracks, Zuko was alone.

Alone but not lonely—this was the key difference, what made this experience so different, the reason he liked the alone time. Because he knew there were people to go back to, people who—if he were given to introspection—Zuko would have to admit he liked, and was liked by. The small close-knit gang which slowly, slowly but surely, Zuko allowed himself to be absorbed by.

Still, the threat of the Fire Lord hung over everyone's heads. Aang's Firebending improved daily, thanks to hours of grueling training with Zuko. Aang treated him with respect while training and as a close friend otherwise, with more camaraderie than Zuko thought appropriate. Teo, Longshot, and Smellerbee accepted him, but were so close with each other they really didn't need anyone else. Sokka's attitude towards him changed daily, often more than once within the same day, from friendship to suspicion to anger and then back to normalcy.

And finally Katara started to unfreeze towards him. It had only been a couple of days since he had helped her track down her mother's killer. At least she would have the closure he never had and likely never would. Although, Zuko thought with gritted teeth, the moment he got his hands on his so-called Father he would strangle the Fire Lord until he gave up the truth about Ursa.

Zuko mentally wrenched himself from pleasant fantasies of watching his father burn, raised a hand unconsciously to the scar which bloomed across a third of his face, and focused on his surroundings. He had left Toph at the campsite today, so he needed to be extra-alert.

He had walked quite a distance from the Air Temple; so far, in fact, that a village lay close by. The forest here sheltered all sorts of creatures, big and small, edible and otherwise. Birds called, chirruping to each other; a squirrel-munk scrambled across the leaves and stopped right in front of Zuko, staring candidly into the boy's gold eyes with its own beady black ones. Then with a flick of its bushy tail it bounded away, chattering in its own strange language with its brethren. Aang would probably understand their talk, Zuko half-thought distractedly. Sunlight filtered through the canopy and dappled the soft leafy carpet below.

His nose twitched—there! The unmistakable scent of a male goat-ram. Zuko licked his lips in anticipation. Goat-rams grew to be rather tall, and possessed a pair of wicked horns which spiralled to a point perfectly positioned to gore any poor fellow who happened to be caught on them. The meat of this animal made the risk well worth it, however; tender and flavorful, it would feed the entire gang very well for the next few days and leftovers could be easily salted and stored for the inevitable missions ahead. And within a very few seconds the goat-ram did indeed come to a halt mere feet away from Zuko, pausing to survey the leaves and berries within its reach.

Zuko's eyes narrowed—the goat-ram was feeding—it was time to make the kill—before another, entirely unexpected sound reached Zuko's ears.

A child. A toddler's innocent laughter as he ran delightly on stubby legs towards the goat-ram. Zuko shook his head sharply: the baby was no illusion. This real flesh-and-blood child rushing towards an aggressive goat-ram with no idea of what would happen….

Zuko bolted out of his hiding spot, the noise causing the animal to look up, alert and still, and the toddler to pause momentarily. At that moment the goat-ram caught sight of the baby boy and lowered its head and charged, just as Zuko pushed the child roughly to safety.

Pain.

Agony bloomed inside him…Zuko had never known physical pain like this could actually exist. He was pinned against a tree by the goat-ram's horns, the animal calming down and subsequently pulling its horns out of Zuko. With a gasp he fell to the ground, heaving; each labored breath caused a fresh spurt of blood to ooze from the hole in his side. He coughed, hacking up blood which coated his tongue; that acrid taste was familiar to him, but something was horribly wrong with his body. The goat-ram had wandered off; the boy had taken one look at Zuko, started to cry, and then run back the way he had come.

What was a little 3-year-old doing out all by himself in the woods? Zuko thought muzzily. He had started to shiver violently; he felt his heart beating, irregularly, against his ribcage.

In his last thoughts, Zuko believed it was snowing. Softly, gently, the most beautiful, warmest snowfall he had ever seen. Standing a short distance in front of him a tall, slim woman stood, her inky hair a gorgeous contrast to the pure white snow, her porcelain skin a perfect complement to the sumptuous crimson robes she wore. And she smiled, a smile as soft, gentle, beautiful, and warm as the snow which fell around them, and spread her arms towards him.

-Come here, my love, Ursa said to him, in a voice more melodious than he ever remembered.

-Mother…Zuko took a gasping breath, the pain starting to dim away as his mother's outline became clearer.

-Come, darling son, my little prince, she said, a single tear dropping from her eye.

-I can't move, Mother, he said. He couldn't stand to see her cry but he couldn't move, the last bit of his consciousness that he had left knew he would not even be able to sit up.

-Zuko, my child, come here, come see your Mama, Ursa repeated. She seemed to grow in brightness until she shone brightly and Zuko could no longer feel the pain of his injury, and at that moment something deep inside him indicated that he could do any single thing he wanted to right now, he could fly if he wanted to, he could walk if he so desired.

He easily pushed himself off the ground and walked with strong, purposeful, quick steps towards his mother and all of a sudden she had caught him up in a tight embrace, as though he were eight years old again, and he wept as his mother stroked his hair and his back.

-Don't cry anymore, Zuko, she told him gently. –It is all over now.

…

"Hey Twinkletoes," Toph said to Aang. She sat perched primly on his back while he struggled to perform a set of pushups.

Aang's only response was a strangled sort of "Aurgh?"

"What's the time?" Toph asked. Aang's arms gave out and he collapsed face-first into the ground, breathing more heavily than usual.

"Time for you to get off my back…literally!" Aang added. Toph remained sitting on him, and while she was not heavy, he was really starting to miss breathing. Instead of complying the girl merely bounced on him, knocking the wind from his stomach.

"Maybe if you tell me what the time is I'll consider getting off," she said royally.

"Sun's gone," Aang wheezed, then sighed in relief when he felt Toph sliding off him. Through slitted eyes he saw her pacing in front of him. "Why'd you wanna know?" he asked curiously, flopping over on his back.

She turned to face him, squatted down to get to his level. "Sparky," she said simply, then looked away, off into the distance, as though hoping to spot his approaching form on the distant horizon. "He should've been back by now. He never stays out this late."

Now that he considered it Aang realized Toph's words held a fair amount of truth to them. "He'll be fine," he assured her, "he is the Prince of the Fire Nation, remember? Zuko can take care of himself."

…

While Toph worried, the object of her concern was at that very moment feeling very confused.

He opened his eyes, the memory of his mother sliding out of his arms, which—strangely—seemed stronger than they had ever been in Zuko's life. "Mother…" he sighed softly, as she dimmed and blurred until she was no more than an imprint on the back of Zuko's eyelids. But then he snapped back to—not reality, surely, this could not be real—but whatever else it was that surrounded him. Because he knew, as certainly as he had ever known anything in his whole life, that he was dead.

Around him, shapes were solidifying rapidly, the dark gray outlines he'd seen as his mother left him within a matter of seconds transforming into what seemed like a station. Noises became louder, the surroundings filling with an extremely large number of people. During the time it took him to blink his dead eyelids, then, the Underworld came to life around him.

"Welcome to the Underworld!" a bright female voice greeted him; Zuko realized somewhat muzzily that a pair of gates sprung up, with desks set up at regular intervals along the length of the gate. Most desks had no line in front of them; a few others, staffed by girls with the same general hairstyle and clothing as the one in front of Zuko, were dealing with the dearly departed. "I'm Kina and I'm your guide today! And you are…."

"Um. Zuko," he said after a slight pause, realizing she left her sentence dangling so he could complete it.

Kina's bright green eyes widened. "Oh, yes!" She consulted a stack of papers in front of her. "Well…hm. I can't honestly say we were expecting you." Kina seemed young, her pleasant, pretty features those of a typical Earth Kingdom citizen, her dark hair swept into a high ponytail like the one Zuko used to wear, and to Zuko's surprise and mild irritation she was unrelentingly cheerful.

"Not expecting me," he repeated. "What does that mean?"

Kina got up and stepped around the desk until she was facing Zuko, then took his arm. "Come on, I'll hafta take you inside," she said. She opened the gate nearest them with a golden key and they wandered through what looked to Zuko's eyes like the inside of a large government building. There were more Underworld guides leading around other recently dead people; some had very surprised expressions on their faces as though they were not expecting to have died, and others, especially the elderly, looked content.

"You see, there's been a little bit of a…mix up, you could say," Kina explained to him.

He paused mid-step. "You mean I'm not supposed to be dead?" he demanded.

"Well…at least, you weren't supposed to die now. Gored by a goat-ram." Her gaze flicked down to his bloody side. "Ouch, that looks painful."

"No shit," he muttered, confused, displeased, and anger flaring up inside him. "So what now?"

Kina tugged at his arm, and continued walking. "Aw don't be so angry! This has happened before, it can be fixed."

"Where are we going?" asked Zuko after a few seconds, forcing himself to stay calm.

"We're gonna go visit the office of the Lord of the Underworld," she told him. "The Fates are already there. Oooh, are they gonna get in big trouble…" Kina cackled happily. "I've never liked Li-li—the young one, you know—she thinks she just the greatest thing ever 'cause she's a Fate….and she steals all the good-looking guys."

Zuko decided he should stay silent, but Kina didn't need any encouragement to keep talking. 'It can be fixed,' she had said…did that mean he would be revived? Zuko searched through his mind for any stories he remembered from his youth about the realm of the dead, but he had never heard of a revival story. Ghost stories, yes, but Zuko did not want to be a ghost….There were still far too many things he had left to do, too many people to say "I'm sorry" to (Iroh flashed in his mind), and too many bad things he had yet to undo with good ones.

Finally they reached a grand set of doors which dwarfed those even of the Fire Palace. Kina spoke to the guards who opened the massive doors for them and she and Zuko passed through in what was, essentially, a grand throne room. Zuko groaned mentally; this room resembled its Fire Palace counterpart way too accurately for comfort. No wonder that place felt like hell….

Kina bustled importantly through the lines and past the different offices and desks, waving at almost everyone. Her colleagues directed pointed stares in Zuko's direction, and he uncomfortably realized everyone knew why he was here. After all most dead people never got the dubious honor of meeting the Lord of the Underworld in person…or spirit, as the case may be.

Finally a hush fell as they approached the throne. Three black-robed figures bowed before Lord Yama while he removed his massive crown to massage his own head.

"My lord," Kina said, bowing, her excitement barely contained, "I've brought him. This is Zuko."

The three figures on the floor unbent, two visibly quicker than the third, and turned to look at him. These must be the Fates, Zuko thought; the youngest, Li-li, seemed only a few years older than himself and Zuko had to blink his eyes at her beauty. The middle Fate, Ni-li, was a pleasant-faced woman in her own middle age, with a kind and open expression, and the oldest, Ti-li, possessed so many lines and wrinkles she might have been Ni-li's grandmother. Li-li boldly looked him up and down and Zuko gulped; the unconscious movement of his hand to his face made him realize, with a start, that his scar had disappeared.

"But he's so cute, Mom, can we keep him?" Li-li said.

"Prince Zuko," rumbled Lord Yama. "You do not belong here."

Zuko nodded, not knowing what to say.

The old Fate made him a stiff bow. "It is my fault," she said in her wheezing voice.

"Grandmother over here—her eyesight is really failing," Ni-li explained.

Li-li gestured to a grand cabinet behind them, the glass doors giving Zuko a glimpse of what lay within—threads, thousands and thousands of threads hanging in neat rows, each thread marked with a name and a set of numbers. "She grabbed your thread by accident instead of the farmer Fa Zhu's."

"I cut your thread—" Ti-li mimed clipping a thread with an imaginary knife—"before I realized the mistake."

"We got Fa Zhu as well," Li-li said cheerfully, "so it's not that bad."

Zuko found his voice. He bowed slightly to the god of the dead and said, "What does this mean? This is not my time to die, I refuse to stay down here where I don't belong."

"This is a highly unusual case—unprecedented, you could say," said the god. "The Fates have never made a mistake. But there is far too much written in your destiny," he continued, tapping an extremely thick book sitting on his lap, "to allow you to remain down here. We have made the decision to revive you."

If Zuko still had breath, he was sure he would have held it during Yama's speech, and released it just now.

"Th—thank you," he stammered, fighting back the curiousity which roared in him to find out what exactly his destiny read.

"Not forever, mind," said Yama. "Unfortunately, there is a slight catch—you will have 38 days to live fully on Earth. To prove to us that you deserve to have a second chance at life."

"Wait," Zuko said, slightly confused, "I thought you said I had far too much written in my destiny—shouldn't that be more than just 38 days?"

Kina answered. "Destinies are not set in stone, as you can see," she said gently. "It's more like…if everything went in the best possible way, that would be the outcome." She smiled. "Your actions shape it more than anything else, of course, and trust me, most people end up not fulfilling theirs. They go a different path. And some are happy, some are not."

Yama had been examining what looked like a large mirror in his hand, but at the exact moment Kina finished speaking the god's expression knitted.

"Oh shit," he said.

…

This is what Yama saw:

Katara had volunteered to go looking for Zuko once the sun had started to set. Dinner consisted only of a thin soup since the promised meat had never arrived.

"I'm gonna go look for him," Katara announced. Sokka's jaw dropped.

"You? HA!" he had scoffed. "Let him wander around for the night, he can take care of himself. And if he can't," Sokka shrugged, "some animal will take care of him for us."

Katara had shook her head. "I can't explain it exactly," she said. "But it's like since he helped me find that—find what happened to Mom, I feel a sort of…of connection. I think it happened when I healed him, I usually form bonds with the people I've healed. And I don't have a good feeling."

Aang had offered to come along. "We'll take Appa," he suggested. "He could've gone really far, Katara."

But she had shaken her head. "I think I'll just go alone…it'll be nice to take a walk." Aang had looked at her doubtfully but Katara, although she couldn't identify it precisely, had a feeling she should go look for Zuko by herself.

And so she had started out, wandering through the forests where she knew he hunted. There was no sign of him, no sign of any sort of struggle, in fact. "Where in the world did that idiot go?" she muttered to herself, beginning to get a little nervous. She didn't have much light; and though she carried a small torch with her, she was nervous to use it in a wooded area.

It had taken her a little over an hour to find Zuko.

"No," she gasped, pausing a few feet away from him, her eyes wide and her hands flying up to cover her mouth. "Nonononononono." But within a few seconds her instincts took over and she rushed to his side.

She knew in an instant that something was terribly, terribly wrong. She sank to her knees in front of that broken body. "Please be alive, please be breathing…" but even as she whispered these frantic hopes she knew it was too late. His left side featured a huge puncture wound which went almost straight through his body, but she could tell in a second that the blood was old, that no more was oozing.

Something acidic rose up in her throat and she suddenly turned away from the body and vomited, tears burning her eyes and her face. Katara summoned water from her flask with trembling hands and coated them, desperately running her hands over his body for a trace of life. For anything.

But she searched in vain.

His body was cold; no last whisper of a breath or murmur of a heartbeat disturbed him. His head had cracked from impact with the tree.

Prince Zuko was undeniably and irrevocably dead.

Katara let out a loud cry of grief, surprising herself at the amount of sadness she felt for the previously reviled prince. Her fingers lingered on his scar, her tears falling unheeded on his body, and she collapsed on him, unmindful of the sticky blood which stained her dress.

…

"There seems to be a slight problem," Yama said grimly.

Agni, what now? Zuko thought, irritated. He said as much. "This whole thing is a 'slight problem,' as you put it. What's the issue now?"

Yama showed him the mirror, and Zuko saw Katara kneeling in the leaves and dirt, the sky darkening quickly, embracing him awkwardly.

"The Waterbender…" he said softly. He had no idea she would have shown this much grief…he'd always thought the day he died would be a day she would celebrate. Then again, things had changed recently, especially since their little adventure together….

"Well you see, ideally, you weren't supposed to be seen by anyone when you were—ahem—dead," Li-li explained.

"And we're not going to revoke the decision to revive you," said Ni-li.

"But now that Katara has seen you..." Ti-li continued.

"…she will be only person who can see you for the next 38 days," Yama finished explaining.

Zuko's mouth worked soundlessly. "Damn Waterbender!" he said furiously. Sure, they'd been getting along well but still, for only her to see him? Why in seven hells did she just have to come looking for him and then carry on in that stupid way women did? Ooooh was she going to get a nice strong beatdown….

Kina brough a bronze pot to Yama, who told him calmly that this was water from the Stream of Life. "This being the Underworld, it's not even a stream—more like a trickle," he said conversationally, as though he had not just informed Zuko that his second life would be little improvement over his death. "The River of the Dead is much larger." He poured some water in his palm and sprinkled it over Zuko, muttered some ancient words Zuko could not catch, and the last thing Zuko saw was Kina waving enthusiasically.

…

Pain and more pain.

As Zuko slowly came back to life he became aware of the aches and wounds which had disappeared in his death. His mind reawakened and he felt his heart jolt back to action with a powerful pump.

"OHMYGOD!" Katara yelped, her trained body feeling that initial revived heartbeat, her tears freezing. It was unbelievable. She knew he was dead, she was as sure of it as she knew that Aang was the Avatar, but it wasn't just her ears deceiving her…in front of her shocked wide eyes, she saw fresh blood pool through his wound.

Regaining her senses Katara put all her energy into healing him, visualizing the tissues coming back together, the muscles knitting, the skin smoothly covering what once was a gaping hole in his side. "I'll have to do your head later," she murmured, exhausted from this healing.

Zuko heard all this, felt the relief which washed over him when she had placed her cool hands to his side. Though the physical wound was healed it only very slightly mitigated the ache he still felt there and his head….oh God his head felt as though it weighed twenty pounds.

Slowly he opened his eyes, encountered Katara's blue irises the color of a calm sea, now as wide as the sea itself, containing an ocean of emotions, her eyes were wide enough to portray her shock, her relief, slight terror.

"G…good morning, snowflake," Zuko muttered, his parched lips moving slightly in an attempted smile, and his gold eyes locked on hers.

She slapped him right across the face.

…

A/N: Hey guys thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed the first chapter! This is kind of my own twist on the Katara-Zuko isolation story, I've been thinking about it for a while. I really went back and forth trying to decide whether I should make it so that only Katara can see him, but I'm glad I did so hopefully this fic will go good places.

Also, although I hope to include this in some future chapter (this was getting far too long): that little boy who Zuko saved? He's the son of a medicine woman who lives a distance away from them, but was gathering herbs and whatnot in the forest. Because he's been taken to this forest since he was a newborn, and his mother never restricted him, that kid is smart enough to find his own way around.

Please do let me know what you think! Happy new year everyone.