Because I felt obligated to support my treasured Ship. This is a missing scene and how it relates to a twisted-up perspective of Bryke's canon storyline - and also a shipping tribute that ties up the strings persistently frustrating AntiKataangs and Zutarans alike.

If I owned Avatar:TLA, it would have been more like this, and the sweet, lovey-dovey atrocity that is Kataang would probably not exist.

Warning: M for mature themes, and for the dark, philosphical twistedness that resides in my brain - Because realistic Zutara is dark Zutara, and that's just the way I see it happening.

"Revelation: a surprising and previously unknown fact, especially one that is made known in a dramatic way.

-The Oxford Dictionary"

They toppled to the ground with a dull thud, fighting for dominance even as their bodies fell through free space. Zuko's back hit the ground, taking the brunt of the impact and knocking his breath away. Katara's head cracked against his and both paused for an extra moment, waiting for the disgruntled stars to clear from their vision.

Then simultaneously they were fighting again.

Katara pushed herself up and kneeled mercilessly on her opponent's chest, sharp joints digging hard into the boy's ribs, and brought an ice-covered palm sharply across his good cheek. The stinging force of it snapped Zuko's head to the side, but he recovered quickly and heaved upward, sending the waterbender sprawling on her back in the dust. He was on top of her the next instant, fingers around her throat, pinning her legs with his knees. Taken by surprise the waterbender flailed a moment, fingers scrambling to loosen her enemy's deathgrip on her windpipe.

But soon her panic became desperation, and then there were ten icy daggers clawing at Zuko's face, his arms, his back – anything within her reach. Zuko only squeezed harder, anger and hatred enabling him to endure the stinging, burning blows. In one final grasp at freedom Katara sank her ice claws into Zuko's forceps, feeling hot blood seeping through her fingers and eliciting an almost feral growl of pain and anger from the boy. Zuko wrenched his arm away, releasing her, tearing the ice claws free as the waterbender gasped for breath.

Several seconds passed as both recovered from their respective afflictions, but at the end of those seconds they immediately returned to mercilessly slaughtering each other.

Numerous times they rolled over through the dust, alternating positions as they fought viciously and ceaselessly for dominance over the other. The benders were a mess of snarling, hissing, spitting fury – scratching, bruising, yanking hair and condemning the other's soul to the darkest pits of the Nine Hells.

Water was stolen from grass, ripped from trees, commandeered from their intermingling sweat and blood. Fire stirred up cinders and charred remains of plants; it heated the ground beneath to an almost uncomfortable degree, causing the air to shimmer and roll all around them. The two elements clashed violently, and the clearing was filled with an unending supply of oppressive water vapour. The rim of the clearing itself was scarred and burnt – broken branches, squashed plants, muddy earth, blackened trees – explicit evidence of their ceaseless duel.

The whole ordeal had actually started quite innocently.

It had been a restless, nightmare-ridden night for Zuko, and a general lack of fatigue on Katara's due to the now full moon. Both, for whatever reason, had decided to take a stroll along the river that ran beside their respective camps. They walked in conflicting directions until they happened upon each other just outside the clearing they were currently destroying. Needless to say, Katara's stubborn and protective nature and Zuko's impulsive temper were quick to surface, and they were fighting. However, this consequential battle for dominance, while seemingly unending, evolved quite a bit: what started as a fight to protect family and regain honour became increasingly vicious, and entirely more personal, with each violent blow. It had not taken long for the Avatar and the War to be long forgotten; this battle was between Zuko and Katara alone.

But back to the action.

Sweaty and bleeding and panting heavily, Zuko nailed his foe to the nearest sturdy tree. Finally knowing better than to leave the bender's hands free, he sacrificed his own dexterity and pinned the girl's wrists to the rough bark., grinding her thinly-clothed and well-bruised back into the unforgiving wood as he pressed close. Katara struggled, but lacked the strength to physically overpower her much larger opponent, and her entrapment held fast.

"Does this feel familiar yet, Peasant?" Zuko invaded the girl's space even more, his nose nearly touching hers, expression twisted into an angry snarl. Katara, of course, remembered the incident very well, and she was suddenly hyperaware of the stone resting at her throat. Difference here being that there were no ropes binding her this time, and the situation was much, much darker.

The waterbender only snarled in response.

Feeling a sudden rush at finally having sustained the upper hand for more than four seconds, Zuko had the arrogance to bare his teeth in a dark grin. The blood trickling down his face and into the creases of his smile did nothing to soften his cruel visage.

Katara hated him with everything she had; her very soul ached with the heat of it. She wanted to squash his bratty skull beneath a glacier, impale him with ice rods so dull he would feel every inch,, tear that gruesome smile right off his marred face. The weight of him on top of her sickened her, sent swarms of searing hatred through her lower abdomen , twisting through her blood with an overwhelming heat. Yet she was trapped, weakened despite this dark adrenaline, pinned beneath the body and gaze of her worst enemy.

If she'd had the saliva, she would have spit in his face.

On the other hand, Zuko did not revel in his victory for but a few moments, as he realised he had reached a terrible impasse with the waterbender. Neither could use arms or legs; releasing the girl would only lead to a continuation of their vicious fighting – and neither would take their failing energies into account in what had quite obviously become a duel to the death.

Upon reaching this conclusion, the prince's expression inverted, his dark grin once again becoming an angry snarl to match Katara's. The waterbender squirmed jerkily between his body and the tree, stubbornly straining to free her hands. Zuko only tightened his grip, the skin of his knuckles pulling so tight it threatened to split apart and reveal the bones beneath.

"You can't keep me here forever, Prince," the bender spat, all but hissing into his face.

Any intelligent response at that point would have been an agreement to her statement, and Zuko's pride and arrogance would simply not allow that.

Instead, his anger only skyrocketed, and his core was suddenly ablaze with a searing heat that travelled down his abdomen and throughout his bloodstream. Frustration set him on fire on the inside, and it was a near miracle he wasn't literally burning on the outside.

Katara and Zuko locked eyes, glaring viciously at the other, trembling on the outside and boiling on the inside, with only the sound of blood rushing in their ears and their lungs struggling for breath in the humid air as a soundtrack. Katara strained, Zuko seethed, eye contact was maintained, and the tensions built to an astronomical level until––

Zuko boiled over, letting out an enraged growl that echoed through the clearing and beyond into the woods, and he closed the distance between himself and his eternal enemy. His mouth came crashing down on hers with the intensity of a starved predator devouring its prey. Katara was responding before she knew what was happening, and her body overpowered her mind as the raging heat between the benders' bodies consumed her. Their mutual feelings conflicted with each other – a searing need clashing with a burning hate – yet the emotions combined and united with the violence of the benders' respective elements, creating a pressure that drove them both near to insanity.

The frustrated prince's hands unconsciously released their deathgrip to move freely, roughly roaming his foe's luxurious hair and grasping it in fistfuls. The confused waterbender yanked at her opponent's ridiculous ponytail, grabbed at his sweat and blood-stained robes, curled her fingernails at the bare nape of his neck. All the while the two bruised each other's lips in vain attempt to quell the darkness pulsing through their veins like blood.

When obtaining oxygen in the sweltering sauna of the clearing became entirely necessary, they broke apart, and it was as if their microcosmic bubble of existence had suddenly and irrevocably shattered.

Reality dawned on the pair as their ragged breath mingled. Their heads cleared, and recollection of the War, of the Avatar and the Fire Nation, of purpose, came rushing back. The boiling tensions froze over, replaced with shock and confusion and a thousand other age-appropriate emotions.

Magically the two separated and relocated to the centre of the rapidly cooling clearing, and their eyes were drawn to the sky. The moon had set long ago, and the upper atmosphere was gradually becoming lighter. Dawn was approaching. How long had they fought?

Simultaneously their gazes locked again and shocked expressions became glares. Each took a step back, hackles raised – but the heated enthusiasm was half-hearted, a childish rivalry in comparison to what had passed between them just minutes before. Silently but unmistakably a kind of truce passed between them, an officialising of their impasse. Then, wordlessly, and without a backward glance, they turned and moved quickly in opposite directions, back to their respective camps, where they would rest and recover until dawn and start their missions afresh with the rising of the sun.

Reality had left them both confused beyond belief, awkward and edgy. Inexperience coupled with this new knowledge – of each other, and themselves – had served only to create a further division between them, a deepening chasm that would continue to grow for many months to come.

For, in truth, the incident had revealed an element of adulthood neither was ready to understand. The new knowledge was frightening, strange – something to be avoided at all costs. And they would avoid it, until absolutely necessary, until they had both grown enough to accept and understand what had happened between them on this night.

By then, of course, the damage would already be done. Both would establish relationships based on emotions that were really the exact opposite of what occurred in the clearing – relationships of innocence, lightness, safety. They would always remember of course, in some way or another, the terrible strangeness they had experienced here, and they would understand how it had changed them. And once the War is ended, they may see each other in passing, and think on what may have been, or even what may still exist deep inside them – be it love, or lust, or a twisted medium in between.

But despite what may or may not be, the two would not rejoin like this for the remainder of their lives. They would live to fulfil separate destinies – Katara with Aang, and Zuko with the Fire Nation – and the world would be better for it, in the end. If the war would have ended the same if their confused desires had been allowed to grow into something more, we shall never know.

On that same note, however...

Had this scene in the clearing not occurred, would the story turn out as it does? Would the war have been won, in the end? Would the Fire Nation Lord have been defeated, and would the Crown Princess have finally been put to rest?

It's certainly something to think about.

Perhaps, Kataangs, there truly is some respect to be found in Zutara after all?

Peace, Love, and Shipping Wars, fellow Avatards!