Work Text:
It had been three weeks since his injury on Agni Kai, two and a half weeks since the burn became infected, a week and a half since the infection healed, and a week since he woke up on the ship.
Zuko...wasn't sure how he should feel about this. He was banished.
Banished.
He didn't even know why he was banished–technically he knew the reason; he had disrespected his father, refused to fight in Agni Kai, got down on his knees and begged. These reasons in themselves were enough for him to be banished, and he should even be grateful that he didn't receive a worse punishment.
He knew it, he did, but Zuko had still not received an official letter, he should have received a letter explaining the reason for his banishment by now. In the end, he was unconscious when he was banished and removed from the nation, and he was sure that he should have receive an statement according to the Fire Nation's laws.
But there was still no statement in sight.
The wait was slow and agonizing, and he kept telling himself that the letter would arrive soon, that it was probably just a mix-up. Or maybe Zuko wasn't important enough to rushing for the letter. It was probably because of him.
He wouldn't be surprised if that was the reason.
In the end, he never managed to be useful enough to matter in his life. Zuko was a late bloomer, not showing any sparks until he was eight, and he wasn't even skilled at firebending. His flames were never hot enough, not strong enough, not destructive enough; his katas were terrible, he had to repeat them hundreds, thousands times to learn it, and no matter what he does, he could never been good enough.
The fact that Azula was a prodigy –unlike him– and that she had revealed her first flames when she was only three years old, did nothing but reveal his incompetence even more. Azula's flames were full of raw power, scorching and destructive. It was enough for her to see the katas once to learn them flawlessly, and unlike him, she would never hesitate to hurt, never.
By the time he unleashed his first flames at the age of 8, everyone had already accepted him as a non-bender. That was why he had been trained in the use of weapons and martial arts since he was barely a toddler, after all, there were no sparks of fire in his eyes. And in the end Fire Nation wasn't just made up of benders. There were many powerful non-benders.
And perhaps the best thing about being a late bloomer was that thanks to this, he had the honor of being able to meet Master Piandao and be trained by him.
But he was incompetent in these areas, as in everything else. Master Piandao had never expressed it verbally, but his father and the other masters had never hesitated to express it. Or Azula.
No matter what, when Zuko was younger, he thought he wasn't that bad at swords, especially dual broadswords. He wanted to think that even if he was bad, clumsy and useless at many other things he did, he wasn't that mediocre at least in just one area. Master Piandao wasn't one to constantly praise his students –still, he was better than many of his masters, he had a...gentle teaching style– but sometimes, even if it was very rare, he would say that his progress was going well and Zuko would be elated, thinking that his hard work was finally paying off.
Then it was revealed that Zuko was a bender, and his lessons with Master Piandao were put on hold along with his other weapon training lessons. Father said he needed to focus on his fire.
Thus, Zuko never had the opportunity to see Master Piandao again, but he still had the dual swords that were gifted by his master during his last lessons.
But he wasn't sure if he would ever be able to firebend or use swords again. Just seeing the slightest flame would cause his throat to tighten, to freeze in his place, or on the worst days, he would experience endless flashbacks and panic attacks, memories and reality would mix together, he would be unable to understand what is real and what is a dream.
In the first weeks after he woke up, he couldn't even walk properly because of his injured eye, he literally had to learn to walk all over again. He didn't know if he would be able to use his swords again.
Logically, he knew that he would get better over time, and his uncle had reminded him of this many times. Maybe one day he would recover enough to use his swords again, but Zuko didn't think he would ever be able to bend fire again.
Seeing the fire, even just thinking about it, was unbearable.
Zuko didn't know what to do.
He needed a purpose, he desperately needed it because he felt lost. He didn't even know what he should do, what he should think. He hadn't thought that being aimless would be so disturbing, but his body and mind, filled with pain, needed a distraction, a reason to focus.
As long as that statement did not arrive, Zuko would continue to be lost.
And as if that weren't enough, he also had another problem: itching. It started as a mild itch a few days after he woke up on the ship, and it was very simple to ignore this feeling, even if it was annoying.
But day by day, the itching sensation began to grow more and more unbearable, and no matter how much he applied ointment or herbs to the wound, even tightly bounding bandages to the burn wouldn't relieve the itching, some days it became so bad that all Zuko wanted to do was cut off the left half of his face.
Today was also one of the bad days.
Fortunately, he was still on bed rest so no one had to witness his pathetic state. Zuko had already been disgraced enough on many occasions when he had woken up screaming embarrassingly due to his recurring nightmares. In the end, when he was completely free of the infection, he seemed to have returned to his old sleeping habits, remaining as quiet as a corpse while sleeping, even when having nightmares. This was one of the habits he had acquired when he was very young.
No matter how hard Zuko tried to focus his thoughts on other things, the nauseating itching sensation made it difficult to focus on anything else.
He desperately wanted to scratch the burn hard, sink his nails in, rip it out of his skin, but no matter how stupid he was, he had learned his lesson after the first time. So he clenched his desperately twitching hands into fists and dug his nails into his palms to prevent himself from scratching his face.
His eyes—his right eye (only his right eye because as if the burn hadn't taken enough from him, it also took away his ability to cry–maybe that was better in that way) had already filled with tears in an annoying way. Zuko hated being such a crying baby.
He wanted to get rid of this damn itch, but no matter what he tried, it didn't work, even scratching didn't help.
It felt like the itching was under the skin instead of above it, as if something alive was moving under the burn, as if fire had taken over the burn under the skin.
Zuko hated it, and he hated the fact that no solution worked.
He tried everything he could think of, but the itching wouldn't stop. It just wouldn't stop.
Then, vaguely, it occurred to him that the first week he got his burn, when he woke up and realized what had happened to him for the first time, he had had a "panic attack" –uncle claimed that this sudden and irresistible feeling of panic he sometimes felt was 'panic attacks'– and the reason he got rid of it was because of the pain he suddenly felt.
Now, Zuko was already suffering enough from the pain and itching of his burn, but if–if there was another pain to focus on –and at this point, anything is better than the feeling of itching– he could definitely focus his mind on that pain.
Last time-what did he do last time?
He thinks he had dipped his nails too hard into his face, but that was not something he could do right now, besides, it would be too visible, uncle would definitely worry and ask questions, and he should already be sinking his nails deep enough in the palm of his hand because he could feel the warm drip-drip blood on his palm.
The itching sensation continued to burn beneath his skin.
But Zuko wasn't even sure what he wanted, he just knew he needed something to distract him from this intense itching sensation.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, wondering what he was trying to do right now.
He just needed–a bigger, bigger feeling, the small pain in the palm of his hand not enough to distract him from the itch that crawled beneath the burn.
He grunted in frustration and clasped his face in his hands. It was just confusing, he didn't even know what he wanted, what he needed–he wasn't even sure why he thought hurting himself was a good idea.
His hands were literally begging to scratch the burn, but he tried to think logically–if he scratched the wound, it would bleed again, and this would only prolong the healing process. If he wants to recover soon, he just has to ignore this feeling and desire, that's all.
It's supposed to be simple.
It should be.
But it's not.
The itching sensation is too uncomfortable to ignore, it creases and creeps under the skin, and every point it passes feels as if the scorching, insatiable flames are burning his skin again.
Or maybe the problem is Zuko. Maybe it's not even hard to ignore. It's hard for him because he's the weak, banished Prince Zuko. Maybe if Azula were in his place, she could have handled this much more easily–no, Azula wouldn't have been burned in the first place.
Because unlike him, Azula wasn't weak, or too stupid to realize that she was disrespecting their father.
He hates this situation, he hates the itching feeling that won't leave him alone, he hates himself for not knowing what to do.
He sank his nails into his arms angrily and tried to ignore how frustrating the situation was, or how disturbing the feeling of severe itching was.
And then he thought of the dagger that was under his pillow, the dagger that his uncle had given him as a gift. But he couldn't bring himself to take it. He didn't know why, but that was just—it felt wrong.
Even if he took the dagger, what was he going to do? Zuko didn't even know–he just, desperately needed a distraction.
His eyes fell on the fruit knife on the table, near his bed, and without thinking, he pulled his pale hands from his arms and reached for it.
His body was on autopilot, he turned the fruit knife over and studied it with blank eyes. There were still small pieces of fruit on the knife from the last time it was used–uncle said that he ate much less than he needed to. A that he should at least get the nutritions his body needed by eating fruits, so he kept cuting him fruits.
As the memories flooded his mind, he hummed and pricked his finger with the sharp side of the knife–it wasn't very sharp, but considering it was a fruit knife, it had great sharpness.
He removed his finger from the knife and stared expressionlessly at the growing red stain.
As the itch under his skin continued to throb violently beneath his skin, he didn't even realize what was happening before he gripped the fruit knife tightly and stabbed it hard into his thigh.
Zuko jerked himself awake and took a sharp breath as he felt the sudden, intense pain.
What–what happened?
As the haze in his mind slowly cleared, he stared blankly at the knife embedded in his thigh.
Oh.
Oh.
He didn't even realize he was doing this. Agni, what was he thinking when he did this? Fuck, now he had to take care of this wound too.
He took a deep breath and examined his surroundings with his right eye before removing the knife. He had to apply pressure to the wound after removing it or it would be covered in blood.
Fortunately, there was a white towel nearby, it was small, but he thought it was better than nothing and reached for the towel. It was some distance away, and considering the knife that had sunk into his leg, he couldn't move much from where he was, but he managed to get it somehow.
He took a deep breath and closed his mouth tightly– he couldn't make any noise, the walls of the ship weren't thick enough, and Zuko didn't want anyone to come and see this–ridiculous thing he was doing. Especially his uncle.
Without giving him a chance to hesitate, he took the fruit knife out of his skin and quickly pressed the white towel to the same spot.
Fortunately, the knife didn't seem to sink too deep, even if the white towel was dyed red in a short time, the blood had stopped within a short time.
Hesitantly, when he lifted the towel, he breathed a sigh of relief as he saw that there was no more blood flowing.
But he couldn't relax, not now. He had to hide the knife and towel. If Uncle saw these things, he could not explain the situation–even he didn't know why he did this. Everything has happened all of sudden.
When he–done that, his mind seemed to be on autopilot, he wasn't thinking about what he was doing. The last thing he remembered clearly was a feeling of heavy itching.
Zuko blinked his eyes in surprise, now that he thought about it, he no longer felt the itching–no, it was still there, but the pain in his thigh outweighed it.
Oh.
Well, okay, at least it–worked..?
Even though his thigh was throbbing with pain, he felt relieved for the first time in a long time.
It took him a while to hid everything, but he did it as quickly as he could, despite his sore leg and his inability to stand for long periods of time.
He didn't know why, but he didn't throw the fruit knife in the sea, instead he made sure to put it under his bed with that bloody towel so that no one would find it.
As the days passed quickly, Zuko found himself becoming more and more angry, even the smallest things were enough to get on his nerves. He didn't want to yell at his uncle or get angry, but the itch had become so intense that he couldn't even sleep. The lack of sleep was wearing on his nerves and making him feel more and more on edge, ready to snap at the drop of a hat.
And Zuko found himself reaching for the fruit knife he had hidden under the bed more and more often. The first day it happened, he thought of it as just a one–time thing, but he just couldn't relax without doing it. It had almost become a need.
No matter what happened, whether it was, panic attacks, intense itching, or incessant thoughts, this method always worked.
It felt good.
Of course he didn't like being in pain, but didn't he deserve it? He was always making mistakes, never good enough.
Sometimes he just needed an escape, and there was nothing more distracting than sudden pain. He didn't need a constant pain, he just needed it sudden and intense, enough to wake him up. He didn't care when the pain continue to ache, because he knew that he also deserved the constant pain he felt.
Zuko took a deep breath and fixed his eyes on the candles that lit up the room.
He suppressed the fear that was growing in his stomach and forced himself to close his eyes, determined to at least meditate.
He hadn't bent fire in a long time, but at least he should have meditated.
He tried to focus and feel the fire of the candle, even though the panic was causing cramps in his stomach, he had to do it.
He was tired of being so useless.
When he found the candle's flame, he focused his inner flame on it and tried to breathe harmoniously.
This is what was supposed to happen.
But he couldn't breathe, his breath was stuck in his throat, and the panic had already glued its claws to his chest like a wild animal that he was trying to ignore.
No-no, not again. It can't happen again.
He reminded himself to breathe, just breathe, but his body refused to listen to his commands again, fear and panic completely engulfed him.
Zuko bent down desperately and reached for the fruit knife, with his pale and trembling hands, tears were already running down his face as he finally found what he was looking for.
Zuko had been awake and on this ship for almost 10 days.
He still hadn't received the letter.
With each passing day his hope was fading and he was no longer sure if the letter would actually reach him.
He desperately needed that letter, he needed a purpose. He needed a way to get back home, but he could never find that way without knowing the official reason for his banishment.
Zuko misses his home. He misses Azula. He misses turtleducks. He misses his father.
He needs to that letter to return home.
As a member of the royal family, according to the law, he had to be assigned a task to complete in order to invalidate his exile. It was rare for members of the royal family to be exiled, and when it did happen, the exiled person was given impossible tasks to complete so that they would never set foot in the Fire Nation again.
But father wouldn't give him an impossible task, Zuko know his father didn't like him much but if he hated Zuko, he would just execute him instead of banishing him.
Zuko was determined in the first days he waited for the letter, no matter how impossible the task he assigned was, he imagined that he would complete it, return home. But now he's not that sure.
Maybe, father hates him so much that he didn't want him to have a way to return home and changed the laws. Or maybe the child he burned and exiled is so unimportant that he can't spare the time for a short letter, after all the Fire Lord's time is valuable. He had no time for such trivial matters as Zuko.
Zuko sighed wearily and began to wrap the bandages, thinking that the ointment he had applied would now have been absorbed into his face.
The ointment he applied was specially made for burns and itching, he didn't believe it would work at first but it really worked. Especially these days, he had such a severe itching that he felt like he was going crazy.
Later in the day, a letter reached his hand, even if it was not the letter he was expecting. No, it was a message, a reminder.
He had been avoiding going outside his room like the plague since he woke up on the ship, but for the first time he felt well enough to go outside his room.
He hadn't seen anyone from the crew yet, and he wasn't in the mood to socialize at all, but Agni, he needed the sun, he needed a breath of fresh air.
So he left his room, even if hesitantly, and went onto the deck, which was empty because everyone was busy with their own business and he knew that his uncle was in his room because it was his tea time.
When he was sure that he was completely alone, his shoulders –which he hadn't even noticed were stretched– slowly relaxed.
He had chosen this time specifically, as the cook would be preparing for lunch at this time, the other crew members would be trying to finish whatever work they had before lunch, and if they were free, they would usually retire to their rooms and rest. His uncle also drank his "tea before dinner" tea.
As he closed his eyes and breathed in the fresh air, the smell of the ocean filled his nose and the sun's rays hitting his skin warmed him inside out.
He relaxed for the first time in a long while.
Opening his eyes and examining his surroundings, he looked for a a point where he won't be in sight, so he could take a nap. Agni, how much he missed taking a nap while sunbathing.
Then, when he felt a movement in the sky, he looked up and saw a messenger hawk flying towards the ship. His heart pounded in his chest and he took a shaky breath.
'Agni, please let it be what I think it is.'
As the dragon hawk was descending, he raised his arm for the hawk to land. The hawk gracefully land on his arm and calmly waited for him to receive the message scroll.
While thanking the dragon hawk under his breath, he reached for the message scroll with trembling hands and picked it up. He was relieved as he felt the warmth spreading across his chest, almost a burden had been lifted from his shoulders.
While standing there, not knowing what to do out of joy, the dragon hawk elegantly smoothed her feathers, and when she found her job enough, she let out a satisfied hum, and then began to study him with intense glances. He gave a shaky smile at the hawk when they met eye to eye for a moment.
Zuko decided to turn his focus to the hawk while placing the scroll in his pocket, she probably should have been hungry after coming all this way.
"Just wait a little longer, okay? Let me find you something to eat," he explained in a soothing voice while stroking the hawk's head, not wanting her to fly away immediately.
He hoped to not to run into anyone. It wasn't exactly that he had command of the ship's interior, but he knew where the komodo rhinos were kept, he could probably find something for her in there.
Fortunately, as he had predicted, he was able to find her something to eat. After taking a moment to look at the hawk eating his food with pleasure, he decided to return to his room, he still hadn't had the opportunity to open that scroll, and he was both a little nervous and excited.
Just as he was about to turn and leave, the dragon hawk looked up at him and when she saw that he was going, she flapped her wings angrily. Zuko blinked in surprise when he heard the sound and looked at the hawk in confusion.
"Uhh..Is the food not enough..? I can find you more food if you want..?" The thing he said sounded more like a question than a promise but he really wasn't sure what the hawk wanted. He made sure he gave enough food, he even gave more than that, but maybe she was hungrier than he thought?
After the hawk had looked at him sharply, she put the last bite into her mouth and screeched as she flew onto his shoulder. .
"Umm..okay...I'm glad you're full, I guess..? Uh, you're full–right?" He felt confused by the whole situation, but he wanted to make sure that at least she was full.
When the hawk whistled in approval, he breathed a sigh of relief and headed towards his room. To be honest, he thought the hawk would leave right after eating, but maybe she wanted to rest because she was tired?
He didn't really care about having her with him, in fact he liked her presence. He didn't like being touched much, but the weight of the hawk on his shoulder was somehow comforting. But he tried not to get used to the relaxing weight on his shoulder, the dragon hawks were firmly trained to return after each letter they delivered. This one still seemed very young, but after a little rest, she would probably set off again.
When he managed to return to his room without encountering anyone, he breathed a sigh of relief and sat on his bed, crossing his legs.
The hawk gracefully rose from its perch on his shoulder and flew to the table, hopping around a little before finding a spot she liked, she gave a contented chirp and turned into a loaf for sleeping comfortably .
After looking at the hawk's cute appearance for a while, he took out the scroll and examined it for a while. The fact that it was tied with a red ribbon indicated that it was definitely a message from the Fire Lord. This meant that he had finally received the letter he was waiting for.
The letter would have explained the official reason for his banishment, and perhaps given an impossible task to complete, but Zuko didn't care. He didn't care what happened, he just desperately needed to have any sense of purpose.
He was so tired of feeling lost.
He took a deep breath and tried to calm his rapidly beating heart, albeit in a vain effort. And finally, gathering courage, he opened the scroll of messages.
But this was not the letter he was expecting, no, this was a death notice.
Forty-first Division – Situation Report.
97 AG–Earth Kingdom
3974 Survivors, 6026 Dead
Asaka – Dead
Shu – Dead
Chaza - Dead
Usah - Dead
Osuza - Dead
Yenog - Dead
The paper fell to the ground from his uncontrollably trembling hands.
A few hours later, he heard a knock on his door and his uncle calling to him, but he could not make out his voice, his throat was knotted, he could not take his eyes off the hundreds of papers in front of him. He went on reading again and again.
Iroh, on the other hand, decided not to disturb Zuko, thinking that he was sleeping, Agni, knowing how little the he slept, he needed to rest.
He didn't realize it was night time but when the sleeping dragon hawk on his desk wakes up with a chirp and flaps her wings, the sudden noise caused him to jolt back to his senses.
The dragon hawk keeps her sharp eyes on him as she felt the mixed emotions coming from him and when she sees the expression on his face, she quickly comes to his side, letting out an worried chirp.
Zuko feels too numb to react, so he stays silent while the hawk pecks at his head or leans down to look at him with worried eyes after being placed on top of his head. He is aware of what is happening, but all he can think about is the papers in his hand.
After the dragon hawk trills softly and anxiously one last time, she flaps her wings and flies out of Zuko's open window.
No matter how numb his mind felt, when he saw the hawk gone, his heart ached with deep sadness.
Zuko hadn't been able to sleep properly since that day, and even when he did, he would wake up again immediately because of nightmares. At the same time, he had no appetite and the thought of eating made him feel nauseous.
Because of this, he refused the food his uncle brought him every meal at first, but he couldn't stand the sad expression on his uncle's face and after a short while he started eating with him again.
After uncle left, he always needs to run quickly to the toilet to vomit, but it was better than seeing the despair on the uncle's face.
Luckily, Zuko's room on the ship was the farthest from the other rooms and had a private bathroom. Considering that it was the only room with these facilities, it was probably made for the ship's commodore.
Even if he felt guilty for staying in this room instead of his uncle, he wouldn't complain.
His uncle was constantly stopping by, checking on him and inviting him for tea, but most of the time he allowed him to be alone.
Zuko hates himself for getting him involved in this, too.
Sometimes he finds himself studying the sky, his eyes desperately searching for a trace of the dragon hawk.
Now he almost finds himself reaching for the fruit knife under the bed at least a few times a day, but sometimes even that's not enough.
Sometimes he thinks about what the point of living is. Or whether he wants to continue living.
He's not sure about the answer.
Since that day, the thought of death seemed to have taken over his mind, he kept thinking about whether he really wanted to live. And the voice in his mind kept reminding him how much of a burden he was to his uncle and to those around him, how disgusting he was, how weak he was.
Wouldn't it really be better if he died?
He was already tired of being in constant pain, the itching even worse than the intense pain he felt constantly. He couldn't even stand up properly, even walking back and forth in the room took up all his energy.
But if he had died, there would have been no more pain, no more itching, no more insomnia, no more loss of appetite that gnawed at his stomach and soul but made him want to vomit as soon as he saw food. Nothing would have happened. There would be emptiness, nothingness.
Death seemed like a very tempting idea these days.
Zuko took a deep breath and stood up, getting out of bed as quietly as possible. Even if his head turned for a moment, he closed his eyes and waited patiently.
He didn't have the luxury of making mistakes tonight.
Although the violent storm outside caused the ship to rock violently, making the dizziness last longer than usual, when it no longer felt like the world was spinning, he quickly changed his clothes and pulled the dagger from under his pillow.
Never give up without a fight.
He ran his hand lovingly over the writings and let the memories take over his mind just for a moment. He remembered how happy he was the day his uncle gave him this dagger as a gift.
But he quickly regained his composure and reached for the double swords hanging above his bed, gently caressed them for a moment, slung them over his back and moved towards the door.
He couldn't stay here anymore. All he did was to be a burden to his uncle.
He quietly opened the door and tiptoed to the deck, making sure the floor didn't creak. The ship was swaying a lot due to the wind, which made him dizzy, but as long as he walked holding on to the walls, it wasn't a big problem.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment, despite the strong wind, not a single drop of rain had fallen yet. He felt almost free as he inhaled the peculiar smell of the rain.
But he knew he wouldn't be free when he was here, so he opened his eyes and took a deep breath as he walked towards the railing and watched the sea as he put his weight on the railing.
The fierce waves were hitting the ship angrily, but the ship was standing despite all the blows, it was shaking but it was strong.
What a beautiful day it was to disappear into thin air, he thought. He had been planning this for a few days, and the most suitable environments had appeared sooner than he expected.
They had docked at the port because the weather wasn't suitable for them to travel across the ocean.
Everyone was busy sleeping in their rooms. After all, the lack of sun made everyone want to rest early, and it was the middle of the night, Zuko was pretty sure that everyone was asleep.
His father always said that he was lucky to be born, and Zuko was pretty sure that he used all his luck when he was born, but since he got the condition he needed so quickly, maybe he wasn't so unlucky, maybe there was even a little luck left.
Or Zuko's birth was truly a curse and he wasn't supposed to be born in the first place, perhaps that's why he had to use all his luck to be born. Now that he had finally decided to die, Agni had created the perfect conditions.
Maybe he never should have lived.
The dagger hanging on his belt felt heavier than normal, every point it touched felt like it was burning.
Never give up without a fight.
Zuko had fought, he had really tried, but he no longer had the strength to hold out. It wasn't 'Never give up' after all. It was telling him not to give up without a fight, and Zuko really tried to fight before giving up. He really did.
He felt like he was letting his uncle down, but Agni, he was very, very tired. It was a tiredness that had settled into his bones and refused to let go.
It had been a month since Agni Kai, finally more than two weeks had passed on the ship. However, he was still pitifully weak, even coming here had almost exhausted his energy, and if he hadn't put his weight on the handrail, he would have already fallen to the ground.
He had recovered neither physically nor mentally.
He was still waking up from nightmares, memories had invaded his mind, and seeing the flames still made his stomach curl with anxiety.
Zuko had thought about this for a long time –at least when he wasn't obsessively reading the names of the 41st division over and over again– it was for the best, both for himself and for everyone else.
If he died, he wouldn't suffer anymore. If he died, he would no longer be a burden to his uncle. If he died, even the ship's crew, to whom he never spoke, would be at ease.
At first, he had tried to cut his wrists, but suddenly changed his mind and bandaged the wounds. If he died like that, it would be the uncle who found him. He could not have done such a disservice to his uncle.
And if he had died like that–his body would have been cremated.
Zuko took a shallow breath, trying to push the thought of being burned out of his mind, ignoring the fear building in his stomach, the panic growing in his chest, at least he tried.
He knew that his fear and panic were irrational, even if his body was cremated after he died, he wouldn't be aware of it.
But that didn't stop the fear.
According to the Fire Nation's beliefs, unburned corpses could never find peace, so drowning in the ocean was considered one of the worst ways to die. And since the bodies of those who fell into the ocean were often never found. The dead could never meet Agni, and it was believed that their souls, alone in the cold waters were doomed to eternal suffering.
It was a thought that made Zuko's stomach turn with fear, but also gave him solace. Because then, Zuko would never burn again, not even after he died.
The reason he took his dagger and swords with him was both to give his uncle a hope that he had not died but ran away and because dying alone, defenseless caused his heart to beat as if it wanted to escape from his chest.
He didn't want to think about his uncle, Azula, his mother or his father, not now. His heart ached every time he thought about them.
Taking a deep breath, focusing on the vast waters in front of him, he began to repeat the names that had been persecuting him for a week without even realizing it.
'Asaka, Shu, Chaza, Usah, Osuza, Yenog, Aisah, Ru, Umane, Cho...'
He had already mentioned all the names without even realizing, the names of the dead, the names of those who died because of him.
In the message, the reminder that was sent to him, only the names of the deceased were written, Zuko didn't know any of the survivors.
'Agni, bring peace to the dead souls; give the living a taste of abundance.'
Logically, he knew that most of the survivors were severely injured, but he wished the best for them.
There was no point in prolonging it any longer, he was about to take a deep breath and immerse himself in the cold waters, when he heard familiar sounds, he froze.
The voice of his uncle, the voice of the dragon hawk.
He stepped back immediately and hid in a corner of the shadows, watching his worried uncle be led onto the deck by the equally worried hawk.
Even though his hands were shaking, he forced himself to return to his room before the others on deck had a chance to notice him.
When he returned to his room with quick but silent steps, he cursed himself for changing his clothes but knowing he had a limited time, he hang the swords to the wall again and sat down on his bed, entering a meditation position.
If anyone asked, he couldn't sleep, he went up to the deck to get some air and then went back to his room to meditate. That was all. He definitely had no plans for anything else.
He wasn't good at lying, but he was good at acting.
A few seconds later, he opened his eyes when he heard a knock on his door and for a moment he thought about what he would do if the cover story he had prepared came true.
".. Uncle? Is that you?" He called hesitantly, even though he was well aware that the person behind the door was his uncle.
"Yes I'm, nephew. May I come in? I have a friend pf yours with me who is very worried about you."
Oh.
Zuko had momentarily forgotten about the dragon hawk, why had she returned? Another message? He watched his rather worried uncle and the hawk enter as his stomach tightened with fear. But the hawk didn't seem to have brought a message.
While Zuko is looking at his uncle, he sees the hawk go to the table out of the corner of his eye, and then she comes and puts herself on his shoulder and gently hits him on the head several times with her beak.
Zuko's heart leaps with concern when he notices how tired the hawk looks, and he softly strokes its head, humming soothingly.
After watching their interaction with soft eyes, his uncle scanned the room for a moment, then focused on him, looked at his clothes for a while and then smiled gently.
"I see your little friend is quite tired, while she is resting, how about drinking a warm tea to calm our nerves?" He offered gently.
Zuko wants to refuse for a moment, but when he looks into his uncle's eyes, nods as he strokes the dragon hawk one last time. When she realizes that he is going to leave, she chirps with disappointment for a moment and looks at his uncle with sharp, warning glances.
"Don't worry, sweet one, I'll look after my nephew. You can rest comfortably," his uncle chuckles as if he was amused by the little hawk's stimulating gaze.
She, on the other hand, perches on the table after screaming in an ear-scratching voice and throws harsh looks to Iroh.
Zuko watches the strange interaction between them, then follows his uncle to his room.
Uncle's room was filled with the smell of many different herbs that warmed him, he sit in a chair and stay silent for a while as he was watching his uncle making tea. His uncle hums a soft melody.
Zuko closes his eyes for a moment and imagines that he is here only to drink tea with his uncle and that he has no problems.
When the tea is ready, his uncle sits in the chair opposite him. For a moment they continue to sit in what can be called peaceful silence, Zuko idly watches the steam rising from his tea and prepares himself for the upcoming conversation. He is not sure how much uncle knows, and this only makes him even more nervous.
Uncle started to speak as if he was aware of the stress rising inside him. "Jasmine tea is the perfect medicine for insomnia and stress, it is good for you nephew."
For a moment, Zuko didn't know what to say. He simply replied, “...Thank you, uncle.”
"So, nephew, who is your new little friend?"
His uncle's gentle and calm voice brings him out of his thoughts and makes him look at him. He breathes a sigh of relief as his uncle does not seem to be disturbed by the presence of the dragon hawk.
"...I don't know either, umm, she came last week to deliver a message and then left. I don't know why she came back."
His uncle nods. "A message? To one of the crew members?" he asks.
Zuko hesitated for a moment and thought about what to say. He never mentioned the message he had received from his father, or the name of the 41st Division, but there was no point in lying. "...It was for me, my father–my father sent it. 41. The division's situation report."
He tries to stop the trembling of his hands holding the glass, he does not dare to look at the uncle's face.
Zuko notices that his uncle has been silent for a long time, so he swallows and looks up, thinking for a moment that he sees flashes of anger in his eyes, and while he looks down at his tea again, he tries to explain himself.
"...I was going to tell you–I really was, but I never got the chance. I'm sorry–" Before he could finish his sentence, his uncle spoke again.
"There's no need to apologize, nephew, I'm not angry with you."
His voice is soothing and full of kindness, Zuko hesitantly looks up at him again, looking for anger in his eyes but finding none.
"Oh. Umm...okay, thanks uncle."
They take a more comfortable silence for a while and calmly sip their tea, jasmine tea calms his nerves, just like Uncle said.
It is his Iroh's voice that breaks the silence. "I should have given this to you before, maybe, but I wanted to wait until you were fully healed." Iroh gently took a letter from his pocket and handed it to Zuko. "Here you go, nephew."
When Zuko saw the letter wrapped with a red ribbon, he felt as if his blood had frozen.
Oh.
Oh.
"... Thank-" he gulped. "Thank you, uncle."
He was not sure what he should feel, he sighed and stood up while continuing to look at the letter in his hand with mixed emotions.
"One last thing, nephew, I'm proud of you; I'm proud of you for being alive, for carrying on despite everything. " Iroh said.
Zuko froze while his hands were shaking, not knowing what to do with the warmth in his heart. He opened his mouth to say something, but his throat was knotted, no sound came out.
He averted his eyes as his face warmed up and quickly left the room.
When he reached his room, no matter how quietly he closed the door, the dragon hawk sleeping on his desk opened her eyes and chirped with happiness when she realized that it was him who had entered the room.
He studied the hawk with soft eyes as the warmth that had sprouted in his chest grew even larger. "Hello, Meiri," he murmured. It was a name that had stuck with him from the moment he had seen the dragon hawk, it just–felt right.
Meiri tilted her head curiously to the side, and when she realized that he was calling to her, she clucked cheerfully and clapped her claws on the table.
The warmth in his chest gradually increased, it was a feeling like being wrapped in a blanket on the coldest days of winter, it was–comforting. Even if his eyes filled with tears, for the first time in a long while, he wasn't angry with himself for this.
As he was walking towards the table, he noticed that there was something under Meiri, it was round and small, almost like an egg–no, it wasn't 'like' an egg, it was an egg.
Agni, there was freaking an egg on Zuko's table.
For a moment he thought it was Meiri's egg and he was going to have a heart attack, but Meiri was too young and the egg was too small for that.
Actually, the egg almost looked like–a turtleduck egg. No, he was sure it was a turtle duck egg. He had spent enough time around them when he was little to recognize their eggs.
"Meiri, where the hell–Where did you get this from..?"
Meiri looked confused for a moment, but when she realized that he was talking about the egg, she proudly sings and carefully watches his reaction by placing herself on his head and tilting her head forward to look him.
Zuko gets a sense of déjàvu, the same thing had happened just before Meiri left. Then she was gone for a week, and when she was back, she came with a turtleduck egg.
Turtleducks were native to the Fire Nation and they were close enough to the nearest Fire Nation territory that a dragon hawk could reach and return in a week.
Oh.
So Meiri never abandoned him.
He slowly lowered himself onto his bed because he couldn't trust his legs to support him. While Meiri jumps over his head onto his shoulder, Zuko continues to stare at the egg in his hand.
The warmth that has sprouted in his heart has now overflowed and he cannot control the tears flowing from his eyes.
'Maybe' he thinks, as tears quietly flow down to his face, he doesn't sob or make a voice, just let out his tears as he stares at the egg on his hand.
'Maybe living is not that bad.'