#sometimes fans inspire a sequel

When they met, Katara was fourteen. 

Zuko had thrown a glance at her that day, she said, like a girl playing dress-up, trying to look like a “big girl” with a shoulder-padded blazer as she stood on the opposing side of that first debate tournament.  

The young man looks away, embarrassed at the thought of once seeing Katara as an annoying kid, but before he can apologize, she speaks again.  

It was that glance, Katara says, that made her want to prove herself even more during debate team… that made she work so hard to advance her argumentative, diplomatic self by her sophomore year… and finally go head-to-head with this arrogant-looking prick to beat his ass… and there’s nothing to apologize about that.  

Zuko grins, saying that it was an honor to get front-row-seats to Katara’s fiery, headstrong confidence with each of her arguments… and that, for the record… he says she should’ve won that last debate– the one about the Guatemalan children seeking asylum in the US.  

Katara frowns, remembering how Zuko was so adamant about his case to refuse asylum, to bring those kids back to where they came from… and she finally asks him why.  

Did he not care about those kids’ lives, how they’d probably get involved with gang violence if they returned home?  At least they would have a better chance in the US, she says… and Zuko sips his tea, gathering his words. 

He rasps that, at the time of that debate… he didn’t think it was right to separate families like that, have children fend for themselves in a new country- especially away from their mothers.  Katara raises her brows, curiously and sadly, but he speaks again.  That was a long time ago, Zuko explains, and he’s understood more about the world since then.  

This compels Katara to want to know more, but when Zuko suddenly asks her how she is feeling…. living in DC, having to figure herself out… Katara feels like she’s made a friend for life.  

Their schedules are unbelievably busy, but they manage to find time to chat in the minutes before their class, before Zuko meets with his thesis advisor after class, and on occasion… they meet up for a volunteer event, or book talk or guest lecture on campus.  

One evening, at the library, while they study for their midterm exams… Zuko asks her what she’s doing after graduation, and Katara looks up, surprised.  It’s not like Zuko doesn’t already know she got accepted into law school in DC… but hearing him ask her this?  In the quiet space of the library?  It’s nice.  Like he wants to know more than just the obvious stuff.  She smiles, casually saying she’ll visit family for a couple of weeks, and work more hours at the immigration center, and hang out with Suki before she moves to NYC… but the top priority is to find a decent studio apartment for law school.  

Katara then asks about his plans, and Zuko looks down at his book for a moment.  He says that ever since his divorce with Mai was finalized last summer, he’s been compelled to leave DC altogether.  Katara’s brows rise; she knew about Zuko’s divorce, but she’s only beginning to understand what it did to him.  The effect comes in pieces.  Zuko keeps talking, regardless.

He’s going to take that campaign management job for a city councilman in Boston – the one he had mentioned a few weeks earlier.   But the thing is, Zuko says, he hasn’t found time to sell his apartment… and he’s considering renting out the guest room.  Zuko asks Katara if she would be interested, as she’d practically have a two-bedroom space at the price of a studio, in DC, and she’d have her own bathroom, too.  

Katara blinks. 

She considers this, trying not to blush as she imagines Zuko as a roommate, and then he — as if reading her mind — assures that the space will ultimately be hers, because he’ll be staying at his uncle’s house in Boston, only flying to DC on the occasional weekend to recharge.  Katara, wondering if she’ll even have time to enjoy a big apartment when she starts law school in the Fall, tells Zuko she’ll think about it and let him know before graduation. 

Zuko nods, a small grin visible.

Quietly, they sip their tea and return to studying their notes.   

In the weeks ahead, they survive midterm-week and coach each other for their final project: a fifteen-minute presentation on universal healthcare and prison reform.  Katara admires his calm, collected nature as he speaks to the class about income-based health insurance, answering the professor’s questions with awkward but refined confidence.  Zuko admires that determined voice, that unapologetic presence as Katara explains how sentences should be evaluated for first-time criminals and how more educational resources should be offered.  

As they look up their final course grades online, holding their caps and gowns at the student union… Katara beams at the fact that she finally didbeat his ass (“well, aren’t you the big girl now” “shut up”), and it’s only when Zuko treats her to a celebratory breakfast and their favorite cafe that she finally agrees to be his roommate.  

Zuko gives her the key that Monday after graduation, and helps her get settled into the new place… which, by the cloudy gray walls, feels much more dreary that what she saw in the initial photos.  Katara doesn’t mind, but opens the windows to let some natural light come in.  They hardly have time to hang out, because Zuko is off to Boston that Wednesday, and yet he leaves a note in the kitchen: “There’s some vegetables in the fridge that will go bad before I return, so help yourself. FYI there’s a farmer’s market on Saturdays that sells a lot of good things. —Zuko”  

It makes Katara instantly smile, and while her initial plan was to just feast on some of her cereal, she instead makes toast and an omelette with Zuko’s produce before heading out for class.  

They text each other throughout the weeks, occasionally:

“when does recycling show up again?” “Wednesdays at 6am” 

“hey—the mailbox is filling up— did you want me to list what’s yours?” “It’s probably junk- leave it all on my desk and I’ll look it over when I’m back.” “Okay- you got this nice postcard from Bali. Mind if I put it on the fridge?”  “Who sent me a postcard?” “Someone named Ursa.”  “Oh. Sure.” 

“You know… this place could use some plant life…” “knock yourself out.” “You don’t have anything against plants, do you?” “No. Mai wasn’t a plant person, so I just got used to that.” “Do you have any favorites?” “Not really- let me look some up for a sec…” “okay” “The pothos vine seems nice.“ “yeah! That’ll look great for the kitchen.” “We should put it near a window. It needs light.” “Ah, good call. thanks!” 

He comes back a handful of times that summer, but Katara barely notices, as she’s been working, volunteering and hanging out with people she met at Law School summer orientation… but she knows Zuko’s been around the apartment by the Tupperware of cooked leftovers in the fridge, labeled specifically for the roommate.  

Near the end of summer, Katara finally calls him up:

“Hey. Is something wrong?”

“Nope– I’m just inviting some friends over this Friday for my birthday.”

“It’s your birthday?”

“Yeah!  Why do you sound upset?”

“I’m not.  I just– I didn’t know it was your birthday.”

“Hah– I probably never told you.  Anyway, do you mind if I use the space?” 

“It’s your place, Katara.  Go ahead.  Just don’t trash the place.”  

“Do I look like that kind of girl?  It’s only going to be six people.” 

“Fine.  So, am I invited to this party?” 

“Zuko, it’s your place, too!” 

“I know- I just thought I should ask.” 

“Of course you’re invited. You can catch up with Suki… she’ll be there with my brother.” 

“…what?” 

“Yeah.Since graduation!” 

“Wow. Um… how are your feeling about that?” 

“I mean— it’s Suki, you know? I’ll just have to get used to it.”  

“Yeah.  It must be weird, though.”

“Yeah.  A little.  But I’ll be fine.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Anyway, I have to prep for this DA meeting… but I’ll see you Friday.”  

“Thanks, Zuko. Good luck with the meeting!” 

He brings her flowers, and a gift.  She wasn’t expecting anything from Zuko — perhaps a card, at most— since after three months, they had barely crossed paths in that apartment. 

But he brings her fire-lilies and fancy leather-bound passport and ID holder, encouraging to go apply for that passport and visit all those far-off places she had once talked about with him.  

She remembered that particularconversation, too… some time in late July, when they sat in the living room together, playing scrabble to pass the harsh thunderstorm that took the power out and kept them both reluctantly awake:

“Aang was a free-spirit.  It wasn’t bad, exactly… but he was always trying to find new places to go for dates…and I was just… there… trying to take everything in, trying to be in the moment.  There was never enough time.  Aang didn’t seem to worry about that, though. It was always go-go-go.  I don’t think he really understood what it was like to set roots, and feel like a part of something.  His mind was just… always thinking about the next destination, the next fun thing.” 

“So that’s why he’s in the Peace Corps? Because he gets to travel all the time?” 

“Yeah. I don’t know. Maybe I wasn’t cut out for that kind of life.” 

“You’re making it sound like the breakup was your fault.” 

“Well, yeah!  Maybe it was!  Maybe I got too stuck in my ways, I stopped thinking about being adventurous once in a while.  I’ve never even left the country, Zuko– you know that?”  

“That’s different from living a nomadic existence.” 

“Maybe. I just feel like I kept myself so closed off with these dreams, these plans, wanting to make a difference… that I sort of lost that fun, free-spirited girl I could’vebeen.I didn’t even give her a chance.”  

“Katara, having dreams and plans for yourself is not a bad thing.  You have plenty of time to see the world.  It’s all a question of balance.  My uncle talks about that all the time.”  

“Really?” 

“Yeah. He was one of the most respected litigators in New England… but his entire life turned into phone-calls and paperwork and meetings and courtrooms. It took a toll on his health.  He was afraid he wouldn’t live to see fifty… so he took a break. He realized he could do so much more good opening a tea shop in Boston, and take a legal case, here and there. That’s what he does now.”

 “That’s amazing. Has he been teaching you to find balance too?” 

“Sort of.  It wasn’t easy, being married to Mai— she kind of sucked the air of all I could give… but I think I’m finding my way back, figuring out who I really am. There’s still time for me to grow and see the world, and do good things for it.”  

“Yeah, I think you are doing good things.” 

“So are you.”  

By the end of her first Law School semester, now with Zuko’s birthday gift and so much more conversation… Katara is compelled to apply for a Human Rights Legal Summit in São Paulo during her winter break, despite already having plans to fly home for the holidays, despite not even knowing the language and having very little time to apply for a passport.  

She gets accepted by the skin of her teeth, thanks to Zuko’s helping her with the passport application, and he drives her to the airport himself. 

“I can’t believe I’m leaving the country for three weeks! Alone!” 

She clutched her passport holder and Brazil guidebook like her life depended on them, and Zuko smiles.  

“You’ll be fine. have fun.”  

They hug lightly, awkwardly… but the smiles are very much there.  

They say nothing, but Katara eventually mails Zuko a postcard to put on their fridge. When she returns to the apartment before New Years, she’s comes home to nothing, as Zuko is in Boston with his uncle.  

She has place to herself, exhausted from traveling and moving so much and finally enjoying the peace… but it does feel strange, without a roommate.  

With an hour left before midnight, she impulsively texts Zuko:

“Hey! Just got back a few hours ago.” “Welcome back! How are you celebrating nye?” “Haha, not sure— I’m so tired!” “Make some chamomile.” “Thanks— actually, would it be weird to ask if I used your bathtub tonight to relax?”  

It takes a second for him to respond.  

“Go ahead. I have bath salts in the bottom left cabinet.  And there’s a champagne bottle in the kitchen, if you want to officially toast.” “Awesome- thanks! I won’t make a mess.” “Happy New Year, Katara.” “Happy new year, Zuko!”  

Things slowly return to normal…but, not really. 

Zuko flies back home the occasional Saturday just to leave for Boston by Sunday afternoon… but then he finds himself choosing to fly in on Fridayafternoons, leaving late on Sunday night… and this becomes more frequent, almost every other weekend.  

They rearrange the living room with a bigger and comfier couch, do laundry together, volunteer at the soup kitchen together, sample spreads from the farmers market on Saturdays.  

When she brings this up to Suki, Katara can already hear how it sounds, having mentally compiled this case of “no, it’s not like that at all” for weeks on the offchance that someone like Suki, or her brother, or anyone else might ask.

Instead, Suki asks her something else, via text. 

“Do you wish he were around more?”  

And Katara doesn’t know what to say to that.  

Actually,she does. 

But there’s a sour, heavy feeling in her chest from the idea that Zuko might not feel the same, if at all, about it.

Katara doesn’t think too much about these extendedweekends, but one early morning, studying in the living room with a cup of tea… Zuko walks into the apartment after a run. 

His hair is damp,  clinging to his neck, his t-shirt practically transparent from sweat. He’s breathing heavily from running up the stairs.  

As he takes off his shoes, he says “you’re up?” And Katara almost forgets how to speak but manages “Y-yeah.  Studying for L1 exams.”  

Zuko says nothing, just grabbing some water from the fridge faucet and drinking, going through some mail on the counter.  Katara studies the bobbing of Zuko’s throat as he gulps, the sweat trickling at the temple. She’s fixated on his face so deeply, her whole body winces when his eyes catch her staring.

 She returns to her book, but she can still feel the weight of his eyes on her.  

“Are you okay?” He rasps, concerned, without a single hint of annoyance.

“Yeah! Yeah— you’re distracting me, that’s all.” 

“I’m just standing here. Anyway you’re not usually up this early.” 

“Oh so now I’m supposed to give you a heads up if I decide to wake up at the crack of dawn, like you?”

“If it means I don’t have to be self-conscious about how gross I look in the mornings, yeah. A heads-up would be nice, Princess” 

“I never said you looked gross, you idiot.” 

“What is it then? What’s with that look you gave me?”

“It’s nothing!” 

Zuko stares at her for a moment, as if waiting for another shoe to drop.  Katara crosses her arms, looking away from her book, away from him.  

His jaw clenches as he looks at his water. 

“Am I… really making you uncomfortable being here?” 

“No. I just… I really need to study.” 

Zuko frowns, as if to nothing.  He moves some damp hair away from his face, and takes his water glass with a shy smile on his face.  

“Fine. Then, good luck.” 

She hears his bedroom door close, and Katara groans, sinking her head to her hands.  For a few minute she pretends like it’s fine, but then she hears Zuko’s shower-head turn on, and Katara closes the textbook in one quick shove to head to her own room.  She puts on her AirPods and goes to her “Studying” playlist on Spotify, but it does nothing to hinder her imagination.  Thirty minutes later, when she comes out to grab cereal, Zuko is nowhere to be seen, but she reads a note on the kitchen table: 

“Out running errands.  Didn’t want to make things awkward, but I think we should talk about the roommate situation. Text me when you’re free.” 

Katara’s mouth parts, and she immediately goes to her phone. She calls him.

“Hey.” 

“Hi.”

“So, is it okay to talk?”

“Yeah.  Zuko… I’m sorry about how I acted.  I was being a brat, and you deserve to live comfortably in your own space. I promise I won’t act that way again, but… if you prefer that I move out at the end of the lease, I’ll understand.” 

“Katara– you don’t have to move.”  

“Well, maybe I do.”  

“What’s the matter?”  

“Zuko, I… like you.”  

“Wh–what?  Are you serious!?” 

“Yes!  Why the hell would I make that up?!”

“I don’t know… you’ve been acting so weird around me lately.”  

“Ugh– I didn’t know how to tell you without making it weird!  So, if this means I should move out, I’ll understand.”  

“Katara, I don’t want you to move out.” 

“You don’t?” 

“No.  I like you, too.  I like you so much.” 

“What?  Are– are you sure?”

 “Katara— I was about to leave you alone for the rest of the year.”

“Stop it.”

“Just having you as a friend felt like such an honor, and I didn’t want to impose anything.” 

“Oh my god- Zuko, you were about to give up?” 

“Well, it’s been a crazy six months of me trying to get you to notice. It wasn’t without a fight.” 

“Zuko— I think I didnotice.” 

“You’re kidding me.” 

“Hey!How was I supposed to know you were acting so nice because we were roommates, or because…?” 

“Katara— you seriously think I’d reschedule a whole day of meetings and catch a Friday flight for a roommate’s birthday party?  A roommate I barely even see?” 

“Hahaha.  Oh God, I’m such an idiot.”  

“No—Me too. I had no idea you were thinking about me that way.” 

“Well I was! And it was torture seeing you around the apartment so much this past month, talking to you… You have no idea what that did to me.” 

“I know what you mean.  I thought about you all the time, Katara.”  

“Okay— that’s enough.  Get back here, so we can face each other like realgrown ups.”  

“Haha. I’ll be back in an hour– just finishing laundry.”  

“Wait— I have to do laundry too. Let me just meet you there, okay?”  

“Okay.” 

And it’s not a minute before she walks into the door, the sound of coin driers vibrating the space, that Katara drops her laundry bag and hugs Zuko in the way she had always wanted to hug him… for as long as she could remember.

He holds her tightly, chuckling against her shoulder. 

When they part, their mouths just find each other, and they kiss sweetly, like old friends… but then they kiss again, slowly… not wanting to let go, not caring about the random laundromat folks bearing witness to these two roommates’ hearts jumping out of their chests.  

They talk while Katara starts her load, they talk while Zuko folds his.  

As they walk the short walk back to their apartment, carrying their duffle bags of clothes, holding hands… Katara leans her head to Zuko’s shoulder.  She can feel the grin on his lips as he boldly plants a kiss to her hair, and she smiles.

And that’s how it starts.

***

Weeks later, as they’re watching TV together on a Friday night, Zuko leans in and tells Katara that DC doesn’t feel so intimidating to him, anymore… and he’s thought about putting his political consulting work to better use to the non-profit sector here.

Katara asks if this means she’ll have a full-time roommate from now on.  

Zuko laughs, asking if she would mind seeing more of him, while she finishes law school.  She smiles, finding his hand, saying no, she absolutely would not mind seeing more of him at all.  

It brings a boyish snort and a tender smile to Zuko’s face, and Katara laughs because she can’t wait any longer to bring her face to his. He kisses her back, holding her face with his hands and they both let the buzz of the TV fade into background noise. 

And it’s almost as if, from one morning to the next… the guest room becomes a guest room again, its bathroom, untouched and pristine. 

And the bathtub now becomes very much appreciated — especially on Fridays, when the two of them come home after long, stressful work weeks and agree to take the night easy.  

They repaint the living room a welcoming soft-canary yellow that brightens up the place.  There’s a small argument about curtains, but they settle for a laced egg-shell white to match. 

They make chamomile tea in the evenings, sometimes to pass the quiet times before bed, laughing about something they heard at work, something they read about on their lunch breaks. They make their lunches together, the paper note and flower appearing occasionally with the lunch on days they have a big meeting, a presentation… wishing them good luck.  

They mount framed pictures of family and friends on their corridor walls, a couple of pictures highlighting trips they’ve taken to NYC, Virginia Beach… Montreal …Barcelona… Bali. 

A more casual photo - a selfie of them lounging at a cafe terrace, back when they were still just college classmates - now sits on his bedside, her office cubicle.  In the picture, Zuko is only grinning, but they agree it’s hard to ignore the blush on his cheeks. 

And, years later…as their hands feel the tiny little heart-bumps coming from her protruding belly… Katara can’t help but admit to Zuko that she actually didn’t take the selfie that day for the sunset.  It was all thanks to a curiosity, she says, an emotional tuggingfrom the chest that made a girl wonder if the boy would smile in a picture of them together.