A/N: So I'm probably really stupid for starting a new serious story without having finished my other one (that will get done eventually) but I don't care. This has been on my brain for like ever and I wanted to finally publish it. Hopefully I won't have as many issues with it as I do with the other one. (Sigh) But yeah, I decided to write this because I have seen so many stories where Katara is an assassin (which I do like) but I don't think I've ever seen one where Zuko is. So here is one. Anyway, this chapter is mostly background, sort of a next one is where things start getting fun. And because it isn't mentioned yet, this story is set a maybe three or four years after season 2. It assumes that Azula never found Zuko in Ba Sing Se, Aang and the others never found him there, and that Zuko never joined them. So yeah, Katara and Zuko never had their moment in the Catacombs and the GAang hasn't seen Zuko since early season 2. But they will soon(; Hope you like it and please review!

Rated M for sexual content and mature themes.

Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: the Last Airbender


Zuko crouched, waiting, watching the man weave through the crowded streets. Zuko shifted his weight slightly, stone tiles crunching under his feet. The man was walking fast, like he was in a hurry to get somewhere, though he wasn't. He was just nervous, frightened. After all, most people would be if they thought a shadow was stalking them.

Zuko rolled his weight to the balls of his feet and jumped forward, hands catching the gutters of a house. He heaved himself onto the green tiled roof and moved silently across it, keeping the man in his view. He was easy to spot in the crowd with his bright red hair standing out so fantastically against the black of everyone else's.

Zuko had been following this man for three days. He had his schedule memorized, knew exactly what this man did and how he did it, knew what he was going to do before he even did it. He knew what kind of tea he took and what kind of women pleased him. And now he was going to use that information to his advantage.

The man ducked into an alleyway and out of Zuko's sight. He rolled down the roof and onto the hard ground, dust rising in clouds around his feet. Zuko moved forward silently, reaching behind him and touching the hilt of Dao swords, a habit he had developed, like he needed to make sure they were still there. He slid into the alleyway, unnoticed by the man who was too busy panting from his quick walk and nervous energy. He was holding a brown package in one hand and a bag was on the ground next to his feet, dropped there when the man felt he was safe enough to be still.

Zuko walked silently up behind the man and pulled out his swords, a soft zing the only sound he made. The man didn't notice, his heavy breathing blocking out everything else. Zuko took one of his swords and pressed it against the man's throat, cutting across it before he could even register what happened, the other sinking into the man's back.

Zuko watched the man slowly fall to his knees, and then topple over to land face first in the dust, blood gushing from the grotesque smile in his neck. Zuko ripped a piece of cloth from the dead man's shirt and used it to clean the red stain from his blades.

He crossed his blades behind his back and sheathed them, but not before he caught a glimpse of his grinning blue mask in the shining metal.


"Did you do it?" the heavyset man asked him in a harsh voice.

"Yes."

"No one saw you?"

"Yes."

"Did you get it?"

"Yes."

"Put it on the desk," he said, nodding.

Zuko stepped forward and gently laid the wooden box on Sho Tin's desk. He allowed his fingers to brush the smooth and shiny grain for just a moment, before stepping back again.

"Here," the man grunted, shoving a bulging bag at Zuko. Zuko's quick fingers snatched it up and he loosened the tie so that he could look inside. A bundle of gold coins glinted in the weak light and Zuko smirked, unseen under his mask. "Now, get out," he man continued, leaning back in his chair, stressed wood groaning under his weight. "I don't need any of my other clients seeing that creepy mask."

Zuko didn't answer. He turned and walked away, ducking under the curtain that separated Sho Tin's office from the rest of the building. Zuko wrinkled his nose at the smell of the building proper. It smelled like sweat and rum and mold. It was no wonder Sho Tin kept so many fragrant candles burning in his office.

Zuko walked close to the wall, sticking to the shadows. He hated this place. It was full of powerful men who didn't know how to spend their money and poor women who couldn't find coins anywhere else. Most people believe this place was just another brothel, but Zuko and a few select others were privy to it's even more disturbing and dark foundation.

When Zuko finally escaped the god awful place, he sucked in a breath of fresh air and waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He stretched and rolled his shoulders before ducking into the alleyway behind the brothel, ignoring the smell of garbage and the squeaking of mice. He pulled off his mask and pushed his hood down, running a hand through sweaty hair. He stripped off the rest of his black clothes and pulled on a different shirt, stuffing the dirty clothes into a bag he stowed behind the building. Slinging it over his shoulder, he walked back out into the street and in the direction of his apartment.


Zuko could remember exactly how it started. He had come to Ba Sing Se with his uncle as a fugitive. He worked in his uncle's tea shop and shared an apartment with him for the longest time. He acted as a waiter and made tea for customers. Everything had been fine, or as fine as it could be for a fugitive running from his own family. But then Zuko's uncle was revealed as a firebender and arrested. Zuko had tried to help him, tried to lie for him, but his uncle refused. Iroh told the Dai Li that Zuko was just a boy he had met and befriended on the road, someone he looked after. He told them Zuko knew nothing of his firebending and Zuko was spared. Iroh had, of course, escaped and before he left Ba Sing Se, he had told Zuko to not look for him and that he needed to find his own path. Zuko, wanting nothing more than to be with his uncle, but knowing he was right, stayed in Ba Sing Se.

Finding a job was harder than Zuko would have thought. It certainly gave him a new respect for the working class. Without his uncle around to give him a job, Zuko had to rely on his own talents. But, the thing was, he didn't have many outside of fighting and firebending. He was a good fighter and he could strategize, could wield flames as easily as he could breath, but those kinds of skills didn't really come in handy when one was trying to get a job at a shop.

So Zuko had ended up on the street again, begging for money and when he got none, stealing food and whatever else he needed. And eventually, he got caught. He had been arrested and left to rot in a jail cell.

And then he had been called upon. Sho Tin had heard of him through one of the Dai Li officers who had been complaining about having to chase Zuko down and his skill at thievery. Sho Tin had offered Zuko a way out of jail and a way out of poverty and Zuko, staving, beaten down, and lonely had agreed without even hearing what Sho Tin was telling him. Before he knew it, Zuko had become a part of an elite assassination group known as the Wraith.

Zuko was paid to kill, to slaughter, sometimes because the men he killed had some kind of important item on them that someone wanted or information about whatever or sometimes just because someone had a vendetta against them. Zuko learned pretty fast to not ask questions, just do what needed to be done and get what needed to be gotten and get out of there before he was caught.

He was a good fighter and was good at stealth and was a great assassin. He soon became one of the top killers in the Wraith, so popular he was even requested by clients. He made money from his "work" and rented a small and dingy apartment in the Lower Ring and even managed to find a job at a tea shop through one of Sho Tin's endless connections. He lived quietly, keeping his head down and out of the way. He learned to not be cocky and not get caught. He learned to follow the unspoken rules of Ba Sing Se and to stay out of the Dai Li's way. For two years Zuko lived in his crappy apartment, working a crappy job in an awful tea shop, and doing even worse things when no one was looking.

The only good thing in his life was that hardly anyone in the Wraith knew who he was. As far as he knew Sho Tin was the only member to have seen his face. Any other time he was on the clock for them, he wasn't Zuko – he was the Blue Spirit. That was how he was known in the Wraith. In fact, he was almost legend. More than once he had caught younger members, those sucked in through family connections or those who just wanted the power than came with membership, talking about him in awed, hushed tones.

Zuko wasn't proud of it.


Zuko shoved open the door to his apartment. The hinges groaned like they always did and he shut it firmly behind him, dropping his bag on the ground next to the couch and collapsing onto the springy cushions.

Zuko crossed both arms over his eyes and sighed. He hated working for the Wraith, though he would never let that be known. When he joined, he hadn't known what he was getting himself into. He hadn't even really registered what he would have to do. He had been caught up in the excitement, high on the idea of comfortable living. He hadn't known that working for the Wraith wasn't something he could do for a year and quit. He hadn't known he had as good as signed his soul away.

Over the past two years, Zuko killed 23 people. People who had families and children; people who had futures, which Zuko kindly robbed them off because they had a gold pin someone wanted or because they fucked someone's girlfriend.

It wasn't just what Zuko did that he hated; it was knowing that this was not the life his uncle wanted for him. He knew that Uncle Iroh had meant for Zuko to change, to become a new and better man, not to become something worse than he already was. His uncle didn't want him to become someone his father would be proud of. That was what really bothered him and made him wish that when Sho Tin showed up and offered him something Zuko couldn't resist, he had listened to his brain and said no.

Zuko rubbed his eyes and stared at the peeling paint on his walls. It was always like this after a job. He always thought about what his life could have been if he had just tried to stay good, if he had tried to be an honorable man. He thought about the mistakes he made in life and he thought about what his uncle would say if he knew what Zuko's life was like. Most of all, he thought about what his father would say.

Zuko shook his head and got up. There was no use dwelling on the past; he couldn't change anything. Zuko walked into his cupboard sized kitchen and pulled out his old teapot and started boiling some water. One thing Zuko could not figure out about his life was how he could work in a tea shop for years and still make tea that made him shudder.

He got his cup and sat back down on the couch, getting comfortable. He cast his eyes around the small living room, taking in the battered furniture and peeling walls. It wasn't a nice apartment, but it was his. He had the money to upgrade to a nicer one, even one in the Upper Ring if he liked, but he never would. It was easier to stay low when he was surrounded by other shady characters like himself.

For a long time, Zuko just sat there, drinking the awful tea and thinking about meaningless things. But eventually he got up, put his tea cup away and went to bed, just like he did every night.