"Zuko! Why aren't you ready yet! You are Fire Lord! Everyone is waiting to see you!" The relative silence was interrupted by Uncle's loud thumps on the grand doorway into Zuko's bed chamber. It wasn't the first time his Uncle had come searching for him. The Fire Lord's entrance was already delayed two hours and Uncle Iroh insisted that the guests were starting to get impatient. Even though he was Fire Lord now, Zuko still did whatever his Uncle asked of him. He owed him that much after the war.

"I'll be ready soon Uncle." It was a lie. Zuko had been ready for hours. He just didn't want to leave. It was night in the Fire Nation, the dark lit up by torches burning in the garden below. The palace was filled with the sounds of music, the murmur of happy partygoers, and the slight thumps of dancing feet.

It was the first anniversary of the end of the war. A masquerade party was being held at the Fire Nation Palace. The garden and main hall had been decorated with the symbols of the four nations. Food had been prepared by the best cooks from the Earth Kingdom, Fire Nation, and Water Tribes. Even the servants were allowed to participate in this grand occasion. One year of peace and everything was going well. All of the guests had arrived, ready to celebrate with the best Fire Lord the nation had ever known.

Except one. One guest had yet to grace the party with her entrance. It had been almost eleven months since he had last seen her. A month after the war ended she had returned home to help rebuild. He hadn't seen her since then. He had thought that everyone had been happy staying in the palace with him. They weren't supposed to leave until tonight, the first anniversary. Things didn't go as he had planned.

Zuko sat in his bed chamber, staring out the window. He could not muster up the courage to put on his mask and leave his chambers. It was much easier to look up at the moon and imagine himself in a different place and time. Laying in the grass next to her, staring up at the stars. Dueling with her until they were both hot and panting from the effort. Simple glances across the campfire, a smile dancing in her eyes. He missed her.

His costume was the same style he had worn during his fight with Azula. Sokka, Suki, Aang, and Toph had followed suit. They all looked as they had on that fateful day one year ago when they had ended it all. The only difference was the masks. His own mask covered the upper half of his face in varying shades of red and gold. The twisted fiery design countered by a small whip of water over his scar, a detail Zuko had requested the creators add to their bafflement. His shaggy hair was left unkempt and out of the traditional style. He actually felt like his old self again.

Uncle Iroh had banged on his chamber door again, insisting that the guests were waiting to see their esteemed Fire Lord out of his daily garb and acting like a real person. It was clear that Iroh was more impatient as the guests, but the Dragon of the West was not a man to trifle with. It was time to go.

Grabbing his mask, Zuko put it on, hiding behind the fire and water. A memory flashed through his mind of their last duel. Fire and water had looked like one. It had been more of a dance than a fight that time, ending with him and her inches apart, breathing heavily. Everything changed a few short hours after that duel.

Heaving a sigh, Zuko turned away from his window and his memories and left his chambers. It was time to face his guests, with or without her.