#zutara fic

slpytea:

The Wild Claims You|EforExplicit | 3/12

Summary:A wolf wanders into the dragon’s den. For @zutarasmutweek.

Zuko blinks again. Perhaps his sight has been damaged for good.

Only apparently it hasn’t, because she is still there, in the exact same spot he’d left the four-legged creaturejust hours ago. She lays naked on her back, an expanse of rich umber skin and thick, untamed mahogany tresses. There is a rippling shiver in her limbs, likely from the sharp morning chill. Her nose twitches, and in the next second long curling lashes start to flutter.

The woman wakes up with a heaving gasp; wrenches her body upright and wraps trembling arms around her chest. Smears of dried crimson litter her all over, scratches and bites covered in ruddy patches of dirt. Dark blood matts the roots of her locks along her temple. Her stare, wide and wild, is lightning-strike blue.

Human.[x]

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.

When they met, Katara was fourteen.  

She had just finished 8th grade that summer, and was mentally preparing herself for high school and her dreams of working in human rights and immigration law, babysitting on the side to make a little extra money for law school.  Sokka had mentioned this wealthy, elderly gay couple that moved into the mansion at the edge of town, and they were looking for a baby-sitter for their quiet homesick little boy – mostly for the company, Sokka says, not so much the babysitting.  The couple is paying a lot of money for the gig, so Katara shrugs and takes up on the offer.  

When she meets Aang, she’s perplexed that he’s actually notas young as she imagined… not like what Sokka had described him to be.

Aang was twelve years old.  He loved recess and playing with his dog Appa and his cat Momo, and Katara was there, babysitting him, three times a week during the day and becoming his first friend in that new town, before he starts 7th grade.  They go on a lot of field trips together, volunteering at animal shelters, community soccer games, frisbee at the beach… and they have fun together… and it’’s so weird that this kid is technically someone Katara was hired to look after.  Katara sees how Aang’s elderly gay dads, Roku and Gyatso, definitely dote on this kid like a child, despite how he’s old enough to take care of himself — but Katara grows fond of Aang’s fun-loving nature.  Yes, he is a kid… someone so young at heart but with that otherworldly wisdom of an old soul.  

By the end of that summer, Katara and Aang hold hands, and they share their first kiss.  It’s weird for Sokka to walk into, since this was a kid his mature, motherly sister was babysitting… what Sokka calls “oogies”… but Katara doesn’t care.

They officially start dating when Katara enters her freshman year of HS and Aang is that 7th grader latching into carefree childhood antics.  He makes more friends on his own in middle school, feeling more confident as the “new kid” in town after Katara gave him an entire summer of friendship.   In high school, Katara focuses on her studies and brushes off the affection she gets from a few high school boys… Haru, Jet… boys who’re not exactly unattractive and who definitely give her attention every teenage girl wants.  Instead, she can only think about Aang… how is he?  Is he making new friends?  Do the teachers like him?  Are any kids bullying him because he’s vegetarian?

It’s weird.  She’s never had a real boyfriend before, but the feelings for Aang are very much there, and Katara doesn’t mind meeting Aang after school to play with his own friends.  When Aang starts playing soccer, and joins the middle-school jazz band, Katara is always there cheering for him, videotaping his performances.  Two years later… when she kisses Aang’s cheek at his middle-school graduation ceremony, and  Aang’s teachers say to her “how she must be so proud of her little brother…” Katara doesn’t care.

Katara is very much the committed girlfriend, and feeling Aang’s hand holding hers is enough to let her know he would do exactly the same.  

Katara and Aang spend another perfect summer together…. walking along the beach, stargazing at night, taking hikes on the nearby forest preserves. and Katara works around her first official summer job as a lifeguard, trying not to gettoo distracted by Aang’s antics with his middle-school friends at the pool.  It’s weird, having to be authoritative and assertive in front of her own boyfriend… and seeing Aang react jokingly – sometimes dismissively, sometimes appallingly – by her voice of discipline… but Katara doesn’t pay any mind to it.

By the time she starts her junior year of high school, Katara is on the varsity swim team, member of debate team and studying for SATs and Aang is the freshman “golden-boy…” just enjoying life, making more friends and going off to do fun things with them on the weekends.  While Katara needs to study and look at colleges, Aang always asks her to join in on his antics.  Although it does affect Katara’s focus and her grades slightly, she doesn’t mind, and she pretends to not be annoyed by Aang’s natural knack for stellar grades but less-than-impressive work ethic. 

Anyway, they’re joint at the hip, dubbed the “it couple” by faculty and students alike… although more than once, Katara has had to correct people that “um, yeah I’m actually more than just Aang’s girlfriend, thanks.”  

When he starts sophomore year, Aang’s wealthy gay dads celebrate his sweet- sixteen with a new car, now that he’s old enough to drive… and Aang loves taking his girlfriend places on his fashionable set of wheels. Katara rolls her eyes about it, but she has to admit, she kind of likes being pampered by Aang’s spoiled upbringing, entering fancy restaurants for dates with his entitlement.  

As a sophomore, Aang is a star soccer player and jazz band flautist while Katara is a senior, student council treasurer, captain of debate team, captain of the swim team and getting ready for college.  She applies to her dream school in Washington DC and Aang support this, despite being it so far away and promising he’ll follow her there when he finishes high school.  Katara asks Aang to her senior prom, and of course he accepts and they dance the night away as the “it couple” they are, their peers circling around them in awe and clapping along as they dance perfectly-choreographed routines.  It’s magical.  They later sneak off into Aang’s mansion that night, and lose their virginities there, in Aang’s childhood room.  It’s strange for Katara…  being among Aang’s stuffed animals and soccer trophies and movie posters, and realizing how much this body in front of her is no longer the kid she once babysat… but that of a young man. For Aang, seeing Katara’s body is like a dream; he’s nervous but giddy at the fact that she’s become more womanly from when he’d first had a crush on her.  

Their night together is sweet, quiet… slightly awkward… and while Aang holds her tightly like a belt in his peaceful slumber, Katara doesn’t sleep at all that night. Because she is smiling.  She is in love.  

She knows now: This is how it feels to find a soulmate.  

Katara does get accepted into her dream school, but makes that last-minute bold choice to enroll in a local community college instead… to avoid a long-distant relationship with her true love as he finishes high school.  

While Aang starts his junior year and effortlessly is acing his exams… being voted class president and class clown, winning varsity soccer games…. Katara goes to community college, volunteers at a homeless shelter and works part-time at a health clinic. For the next two years, things seem okay, despite only being able to see each other after-school, after-work, on the weekends.

Aang asks her to his senior prom, and of course Katara accepts. 

Only this time… their dance feels a lot less “it couple”y… more like an adult-chaperone-awkwardly-dancing-with-the-golden-boy-student.  It’s weird.  

Aang is smiling happily, obliviously, but Katara tries to ignore the look on Principal Iroh, that look of disappointment.  She tries to ignore the looks on Aang’s female classmates… their annoyed eyes, their pursed lips.  

And she fully averts her eyes from the faces of her old teachers… Tyro, Pakku, Yugoda, Jiang… how by their looks, they seem to feel sorry for her, how their frowns silently ask “Why are you here?” “We saw your determination, your passion, your drive; what happened to them?” 

“Where did your ambition go?” 

Nevertheless, Aang is crowned Prom King, he gets his prom photo with Katara, and once again they spend prom night together… this time, in Katara’s studio apartment.  It’s less quiet than the first time, because it’s now been two years of Aang sneaking out of his place to spend regular nights with Katara in that bed, their bodies now accustomed to each other.  Aang can’t help but feel like a true king that night… and Katara, well… shetries to feel like a queen, but it’s hard.

She fights that sting of feeling like a trophy– a peasant girl, next to this supposed king…her body desperately hanging onto something she believes still exists… something that isn’t slipping away.   

Aang holds Katara as he sleeps peacefully, but she doesn’t sleep.  She just stares at the ceiling, ignoring the tears streaming down her cheeks.  

Since they still managed to make it through those last two years and Aang also got into Katara’s dream school in Washington DC… she is hoping this means she can finally transfer there with Aang.  They can officially start a life together, like grownups do.  

So when Katara notices how indecisive Aang is about what he wants to study (philosophy? physical education? humanities? animal sciences?) and how some of his soccer friends are joining the Peace Corps to travel the world before officially starting college… and how Roku and Gyatso are financially going to support that idea… Katara doesn’t know what to say.  So Aang speaks more.  It would be another two years, he says, but it would be amazing if Katara could join him… and they could travel the world together: “I mean, it can’t be that hard to put a temporary halt on your college studies, right?  All those classes you took were just GenEds, anyway.”  

Katara says nothing, still.  She just looks at him.  At Aang.  This person she had practically grown up with… the person she thought completely understood her… and how much she wanted to study in Washington DC, be at the center for change, and fight for immigration and human rights law.  Who was this person, staring back at her with those big, doting, silver eyes? 

She finally speaks.  She speaks loudly.

Katara says how, for two years, she was “waiting for him” in a local college she didn’t even want to go to, just so they could have quality time… assuming they’d eventually attend the same college and start their life together as young world changers, like they always talked about.  She says how it’s now very clear he is still a kid, thinking about his needs and only considering hers if it benefits his own, still assuming she’ll go with what he wants… support what he decides.  

She tells him all of this, and asks Aang, once again, to come to Washington DC with her, like he had once supported.  But Aang gets upset; he says he’s not ready to settle down in one place… that he wants to experience the world as a nomad for a little while.  Katara lowers her eyes, because it’s clear they are no longer on the same page.  

When Aang tells her he loves her, it comes out in that desperate, boyish sound of a child wanting to hold onto his favorite toy.  Katara fights that urge to give Aang the same, almost automatic response she’d always given him all those years, ever since that first prom night they spent together.  

“I’m sorry, Aang.” 

Katara closes her eyes, tears falling quietly down her cheeks.  This can’t be a soulmate, she thinks, this person who doesn’t see all of her.  She sees her friend, though, and it makes her truth come out more painfully than she could imagine.  Aang says nothing, and leaves with a weep in his voice.

They spend that summer apart.  Katara mails him back his things.  

He doesn’t speak to her, or write to her all throughout that summer… and while Katara catches herself remembering certain things, like the way his laugh would always make her smile… she doesn’t write to him, either.  She can imagine how much this breakup hurts Aang, too. Because he thought she was hissoulmate, too… and this must all feel like a betrayal.  Katara knows this is hard for him, trying to see his ex-girlfriend as just a friend, trying to seethat as enough…  so this quiet distance is probably for the best.  

It’s devastating to think Aang is no longer a part of her regular life the way he had been those last six years… and Katara cries so many nights that summer while she packs up to leave for Washington DC, alone, feeling like a third of her young life has just vanished.  

When she moves in to her residence hall, Katara is a little reserved, but she does get to know her roommate Suki, and eventually makes more friends.  She joins a few pre-law study groups and volunteers at an immigration center, and does go on the occasional college party, the occasional date.  

Some of the college boys do get a second and third date, and one lucky guy gets to share his bed with her for a couple months… but eventually things fade, and Katara persists with her studies.  

By the end of her first year as a transfer student, Katara feels at home in DC, remembering why she is there, embracing who she is.  That summer. before her final year, she believes she is headed to a spectacular graduation… interning at a public defendant’s office, working part-time at the immigration center, applying to law schools.  She’s single, but she has plenty of time for love, so she doesn’t worry about that.

It isn’t until the first day of that final spring semester… when she proudly walks into the graduate-level Human Rights Law and Justice class she fought so hard with her advisor to get into… that she notices a graduate student reading quietly, sitting right across from her at the table.  A young man and a scar that she’d seen one too many times when her passionate, headstrong self went up against his assertive, superior, oftentimes smug persona in debate tournaments between their rivaling high-schools. 

She studies his face, now – how, despite its seriousness, it no longer looks as angry or smug as it once did.  How there’s a softness to his brow, a kindness to his eyes.  

Zuko feels the weight of someone staring at him, and looks up to see who it is, and blinks. 

He recognizes her.  He certainlyremembers her.  

In that small distance, while other students filter in and find seats at the same round table, Katara and Zuko say nothing. But oh, the smiles they exchange?  It’s enough for them to know that this semester will be very, veryinteresting.

February, Day 1

Katara and Sokka are young WaterTribe students who recently moved out of their homeland with their naval-commander father, to start fresh as a 9th grader and 10th grader at Fire Nation Academy after the recent death of their mother.  

Headmaster Iroh is aware of this sad news, and takes the liberty of assigning his nephew Zuko, a sullen-but-sharply-dressed 11th-grader, to show the new students around campus on their first day.  

This is right at the beginning of February, and while Sokka can’t stop asking Zuko questions about Mr. Mechanist’s engineering lab hours and Geography Club (”I do like expensive atlases!”)… Katara remains quiet.  She’s culture-shocked by the amount of pink, purple and red paper hearts bannered and dangling along the hallways of the school.  She’s also mesmerized by how Zuko’s face – that scar, dressing most of his left side – carries the same tones and hues of that school’s decor.  Unlike herself, Katara says nothing throughout that entire tour, holding her backpack straps tightly… and Zuko glances at her as they return to the headmaster’s office.

For the first time, Katara notices the rustic gold of his eyes.

Zuko frowns. “Any last questions?” His face moves to obscure his left side.

“Wh–”  Katara gestures to the hallway with her nose. “What’s with all the decorations?”

Zuko blinks, giving her this look that says ‘you’re kidding, right?’ and when he turns over to Sokka, it’s clear that these WaterTribe siblings have no idea what sappy Fire Nation tradition this is.  Zuko sighs, his eyes back on Katara. 

“Valentine’s Day,” he rasps, almost like a groan as he turns on his heel to finally bid them goodbye with his shoulder and quick wave of the hand.

Katara watches him leave, puzzled. 

February, Day 5

Throughout that first week, Katara finds herself making more friends with the teachers than the actual students, offering to help Mr. Piandao organize his library while discussing ancient military combat techniques, drinking tea with Mr. Jeong Jeong and talking about Eastern philosophies, and stopping by Ms. Ursa’s office to talk about poetry homework… but more just to say hello, because she’s so nice.  Katara has no idea how Sokka’s managed to make best-friends in the span of a few days, but there he is… laughing away with Chan and Rion Jon in the hallways, discussing boys’ volleyball practice.  Sokka’s never even played volleyball.  Who is this person?

There is one 9th-grader, Ty Lee, who seems sweet and willing to get to know Katara as a friend, but she wonders if it’s all to try to get closer to Sokka.

Because wow.

Katara can’t keep herself from chuckling by the handful of girls already looking for her brother’s affection.  Must be the eyes, Katara thinks, because if she had a copper piece for every time someone complimented her on her blue eyes, or her wavy hair, or the natural tan on her skin that first week of school…

Zuko hasn’t, strangely.  Not that she cares.

Occasionally, Katara sees him walk the hallways, holding hands with a girl with a matching gloomy face as they head to class together.  Katara thinks about her parents… how theyused to hold hands like that… how they never looked gloomy when they did.  Katara shrugs.  Perhaps love is different with everyone.

When Katara attends a Student Council meeting that week, she finally understands what “Valentine’s Day” is, thanks to the Student Council President Azula.  The council has themed activities planned out for the entire week.  Katara has been assigned the Valentine’s Card Crafting Table before school, during lunch, study hall and after-school all throughout that week.  She feels slightly excited about this, as crafting was something she and her mother loved doing together.

But, glancing at the mountainous array of colorful glitter, gel-pens, markers, scissors, glue, construction paper and stickers all mixed around in these various plastic containers… Katara also understands why this was the assignment nobody had volunteered for.

She spends the rest of that Student Council meeting hour organizing all the materials to have them ready for the next week.  Nobody stays after the meeting to help her.  When Sokka’s Geography Club gets out and he finds her on the floor, alone, knelt with a pool of multi-colored construction paper that’s being organized by shade… Sokka approaches her sadly.  He doesn’t even open his mouth when she instantly holds a palm to him.  “Don’t say a word,” she says sharply, still looking down out at her mess.  “I just need a project.”

Sokka quietly puts down his schoolbag, kneels next to her, and assists.

February, Day 8

The table is all set up in the morning as students arrive.  Sokka is there helping her set up, but then immediately dodges Ty Lee’s advances when she shows up to support Katara’s first day behind the Valentine’s Day craft table.  "Who wants to make me a Valentiiiiine??” Ty Lee shouts in her bubbly song, and a couple of boys head over to the table a proceed to make a card for her.

Katara instructs them on how to best cut out a heart out of construction paper with crafting scissors.  They compliment her on her eyes.

She braces herself for the lunch period, and a few girls from Student Council stop by to make cards for each other and their own friends.  Katara chooses to not make hearts but instead a mixed-media card with little ice-huts and snow-men and penguins… which looks slightly ridiculous in the shades of pink and purple.  They love seeing Katara feel in her element with all of these crafting supplies, and tell her so, and the girl feels somewhat more comfortable behind that table.  Just as she’s about to ask them about fun things to do in the Fire Nation, the girls leave with their cards, and Katara remains alone at the table.

Just as she’s watching them all leave, she notices Zuko standing there at the doorway to the cafeteria, serious.  Katara’s face immediately winces down, back to her work.  But Zuko then approaches the very edge of the table.

“Did Azula make you do this?” he rasps. 

Katara shrugs, grinning to herself.  “I volunteered.”  In her salesman-type voice, she looks back up at him and says:  “Would you like to make a Valentine’s Day card for your Valentine?”

Zuko stares at her, and then at the array of crafting supplies on the table, and then at her mixed-media card of her Water Tribe home, and then back at her.

Saying nothing, he takes a seat at the table and grabs a piece of paper.

“Mai’s gonna love this,” is all he says, attempting to cut a symmetrical heart.  

‘Mai’ must be his girlfriend, Katara thought, but she notices the furrow in his eyes, the thinness of his mouth as he works quietly.  Perhaps love is different with everyone.

She returns to her own card.  In certain instances, she can feel Zuko looking at her.  After a quiet set of minutes, he asks her about what exactly she’s making on her card, and Katara tells him.  They spend the rest of that lunch hour talking, and crafting.

Zuko doesn’t compliment her on her eyes.

Not that she cares.

February, Day 9

“… and next thing we know, Sokka’s yelping like a baby seal and running from the wolf-pups… and he sprains his ankle and trips into this 20-foot ice-canyon.  My mom and I had to run to the neighboring village to help get him out.”

“Wow– all for some seal-jerky?”

“Dad told us to leave all the food back at camp!  Ugh– Sokka’s impossible.”

“I’d be happy to trade him for my sister— Hey, can you pass the stickers?”

“Sure– the pink hearts?”

“The white ones.  Mai hates pink.”

“I like the border you cut for the card.  You can add dots of glitter if you want, to  give it some character.”

“Maybe.  What are those swirls of green and yellow that you’re making?”

“Oh– it’s called the Southern Lights… when we were kids, Sokka and I would go swim to the closest iceberg to see them up-close.”

“You’d swim there?  Wouldn’t you freeze to death?”

“Haha!  We had thermal suits.  I’m actually thinking of joining the Girls’ Swim Team here, but they’re not fancy national champions, like the Boys’.  They sound like snobs.”

“They’re not all like that.”

“You know the whole team?”

“I’mon the team.”

“… … … oh.”

February, Day 10

“You’re staring at it again.”

“Wh–What? No, I wasn’t.”

”You were.”

“I wasn’t!  Your sister was passing by, and she gave me a weird look!”

“Whatever.”

“Fine–Don’t believe me.”

“ …Do you wanna know how I got it?”

“Um… only if it’s okay to ask.”

“It’s nothing crazy.  Azula and I snuck into our father’s fireworks supply for the Summer Solstice party at our house.  They were a surprise, but my sister always finds out about these things.  She loves fire.  She wanted to light some up in our backyard before it got dark.  She was only eight… my mother was tending to the party, and our father was supposed to be watching us, I guess.  I knew, the moment Azula lit one up, that she was standing way too close to it… so I pushed her out of the way, and it got me.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.  My parents split up, soon after that.  He didn’t fight for custody.”

“…Do you miss him?”

“No.  Sometimes.  I don’t know. –Where’s the glue?”

“Here.”

“Thanks.  Anyway… Uncle’s always been more of a father to me.”

“Iroh seems really great.”

“Yeah.  He tells the best jokes.  There’s this one, about tea leaves…”

February, Day 11

"She was always more my person, you know?  Not that Sokka wasn’t close to her, or anything, but… it was just different.  He still has Dad.”

“I know what you mean.  My mother and I have a closer thing, compared to Azula.  She doesn’t talk about it, but I can tell.”

“Yeah.  Hey, are you done with the silver gel pen?”

“Sure– here.”

“Thanks.  Anyway… I can’t talk about it, with them, at least… because I don’t want to make them feel like they have to watch out for me, here.”

“You seem like you can take care of yourself quite well.”

“Thanks– I mean, I have to.  Dad’s got work, and Sokka’s… you know… joining a bunch of clubs and playing volleyball, and making girlfriends– it’s not funny!–” 

“I wasn’t laughing.”

“You’re smirking!”

“..the scissors were jammed.”

“Ugh–whatever.  The point is– I can’t be anyone’s little girl anymore.  I have to grow up, keep all these feelings in, and just do what I can to keep us all going.”

“I get it.  It’s like you have to constantly hide a part of you to just survive each day.”

“It really does.  Do you feel that way, too?”

“Oh,constantly–By the way, I think these scissors are busted.”

“Here– I’ll trade you.”

“Thanks.  Anyway– after a while, you kind of stop seeing your life as your own, and you begin to accept whatever it is that people want from you.”

“Yeah.  Don’t worry, though.  I won’t go down that slippery slope.”

“Good.  I don’t think there’s a force of nature that can tackle your kind of strength, anyway.  Not even my sister.”

"Thanks, Zuko.  And… I hope it’s not too late for you.”

“What?”

“You know… to still turn things around? Figure out what you really want?”

“I– I don’t know.  Maybe there’s still time, I guess.”

“Good.” 

“Yeah. Um… so, what are those?  Icebergs?”

”…Yeah!  And this tiny thing is a canoe.  My brother and I would go out fishing in the mornings…”

February, Day 12

With it being the last day of school before “Valentine’s Day Weekend,” the craft table is more or less abandoned, and classmates are bee-lining along their lunch tables, passing around chocolates and carnations, cards and heart-shaped balloons.  

Devoted to her assigned task, Katara remains seated behind that table after school for fifteen minutes before she finally begins to pack up all of the materials and officially consider her shift complete.  She hears all the laughter and smiling faces of students closing their lockers for the day, reminding her of the Winter Solstice celebrations back at home… the way her tiny hands would be so eager to take that warm cup of cocoa from her mother’s palms…

“Need some help?”  

She blinks at the sound of Zuko’s voice, surprised to see him there with his messenger bag.  There’s nothing celebratory about his face or his dress – it’s his usual serious look – but Katara thought he’d be somewhere sharing chocolates with his girlfriend.  She decides not to bring that up, and just nods.

They pack up the materials appropriately into the plastic containers, making sure that the supplies don’t move about inside and thus become a mess for the next person who’s assigned Valentine’s Day Craft Duty next year.  Between the two of them, Zuko and Katara are able to carry all of the boxes into the school’s supply room in one single trip.

When Katara locks up the supply closet, she sighs a deep breath of relief, and Zuko chuckles.

“You know? This whole Valentine’s Day thing isn’t so bad,” she smiles at him.

Zuko just shrugs.  But in his hand, there’s a card with an envelope.  

The color of the envelope is an unfamiliar rustic gold – not like the shades of pink and white that Katara saw in her craft bins all week.  Zuko must’ve found this envelope on his own.

“What is that?” 

Katara mentally kicks herself when Zuko raises his brow.

“Your Valentine,” he says flatly, bringing it out to her.

“But…” she feels a lump in her throat, “… I didn’t make you anything.”

“It’s okay– just take it.” Zuko insists, his hand gesturing with the card.

Katara does.  She gazes at the envelope with both hands and proceeds to turn it over to slice it open.

“Not yet--” he rasps so suddenly, her hands flinch.  “You can’t open it until the Fourteenth.”

“Oh- so you’re superstitious, now?” Katara raises her brow, laughing.

Zuko groans, pinching his nose. “Forget it.  Open it, don’t open it.  Do what you want.”

They walk back out to the student hallways quietly, back to the noise of students and closing of lockers.  

“Are you doing anything special for Mai?” she asks him, out of courtesy.

He says nothing for a long second, and without turning to her, he speaks.  It comes out of him like invisible torture, of mumbling sounds and a syllables.

“We’re… um… we’re– not together– anymore.”  

Katara turns to him, over to the scarred side of his face as they walk.  It’s impossible to read what exactly he’s feeling by that almost-permanent frown, but she tries to, nonetheless.

“Oh.”  

That’s all that she says, and Katara kicks herself again.  As they walk, she can feel the words sitting idly in her throat, the I’m sorry andWhat happened? andDid she hurt you? andShe doesn’t deserve you, you know that?and Sorry, do you want me to just stop talking?   

But before any of those words could come up, Zuko chimes in, turning his good side to her.

“See you around,” and there’s a tiny, almost secret grin that catches her eye as his face turns to leave for the parking lot.

“See you– thanks for your help!” she calls after him, and she can tell he heard her by the way he waves his hand.  

February, Day 14

She waits until the official stroke of midnight to finally open the envelope, and it feels like a bunch of paper-heart confetti that falls out of it.  

Five large pieces of confetti, to be exact.  

One card for each day of the week that Zuko had been sitting there at that table.  She sees the monochromic card from the first day, and the small patches of red, purple, and pink showing up on the cards the following days.  Nothing is written on them, but that is fine.  

That is still enough to make Katara smile.

And she sees a creme-colored folded piece of paper attached to the last card.  

She unfolds the paper nervously, fidgeting as to what kind of handwriting… what kind of words, what sappy poetry would be in store for her big blue eyes.

It reads:

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Katara.

I’m really sorry about your mother, but I hope that you will find something to call home here.  You should definitely join Student Council and try out for Swim Team; the girls could use more talent (I say that as a fellow swimmer – not as a rival, or anything).  Thanks for teaching me how to craft these cards - they’re actually not so bad.  

Would you want to keep talking, maybe?  At lunch? 

Anyway– I’ll be around, if you need me.

Zuko”

Katara and Zuko would be the last ones to hop on the parenting wagon, the two of them having met well into adulthood and enjoying this quality time with their best friend, the someone who finallyunderstands their deepest and fullest selves.  

When they decide they’re ready to tackle parenthood, they’re the ones who’d spend that Saturday morning cuddling under the covers, gazing at the little “plus” sign on the pregnancy test, laughing with joy and a little nervousness.  They’d wait until the 25th week to fully announce it to family and friends, not just because of the risks but because it just feels so nice keeping this little news to themselves, as a couple, as something special they’re making together while the world continues to spin.  

Zuko would not hesitate to creep up behind Katara and kiss her temple before they leave for work… hands to her belly… saying how gorgeous she is and knowing how often she looks at herself, the baby-weight popping up in her face, her arms, her thighs. When he spoons her at night, in their bed…  his voice warmly whispering how beautiful and amazing she is… Katara has never felt so adored and protected.  

They would be the couple who would join a young-parents-to-be group in the neighborhood, and Katara would encourage Zuko to shop for a baby things with her, and Zuko would be happy to let Katara join in on assembling the crib, and would be adamant in testing the crib with a honeydew melon for at least a week to ensure that it is stable. He would keep track of Katara’s sleeping patterns and the pregnancy cravings as a reference for the baby’s sleep cycle and the foods the baby might eventually like.  He makes a point to stock up on Katara’s food cravings at home – especially during the third trimester, when the cravings come anytime and in full steam ahead. 

Zuko would secretly be anxious at work, thinking about Katara and what she’s doing at home once she officially goes on her maternity leave.  He would check his phone every minute on the week of her due date, until she texts him one early morning with “Get ready, papa bear.  :)” 

And Zuko would head straight out of his office, excusing himself from whatever presentation or meeting he might’ve been currently in.  He would sprint to the hospital with Sokka, Suki and Hakoda already there in the lobby, offering him coffee and a pastry before he goes into the appointed room to see Katara getting prepped for delivery.  Aang and Toph would show up an hour later, with gender-neutral yellow balloons and a flying bison stuffed animal… but when Sokka says the baby hasn’t arrived yet… Aang slouches sadly, and Toph growls: (”SugarQueen and Sir Hotman are the most punctual kids on the planet.  You’re telling me their kid’s gonna take their sweet time showing up?  Nuh Uh.  Both my kids made it in the hour and we got WWE tickets tonight.  Let me in there….”  “Toph!”)

Katara’s calm and collected the first few hours, but as it becomes clear this labor will be dragging much longer… Katara’s patience and nerves wear thin, and Zuko is there as she starts to really sense the first signs of doubt, that feeling that things might not turn out perfect.  Zuko’s there with her after Toph and Aang leave for the WWE match, after Sokka and Suki say their goodbyes that afternoon, after Hakoda says his goodbye in the evening… as the labor drags on and on… as the contractions become more painful and more frequent.  Zuko holds her hand tightly as Katara begins to cry, cursing certain things to Zuko that she’d probably forget but he’d very much remember fondly (and would only refer back to years and years from now, if Katara ever chose to proclaim to people that she’s never once lost her cool – and yet even then, Zuko would only use that information as a tease, never a weapon).  

Zuko would calm her with his voice, his words, his reassurance that he is there for anything that Katara needs… but he doesn’t ignore his own teary eyes.  Because he is scared, too.  

When the doctor advises Zuko to hand-deliver the baby himself – a calming mechanism for his distressed wife in labor – Zuko hesitates, but then agrees. Katara smiles and cries and breathes into a rhythm. The doctor instructs Zuko as he feels the sweat roll down his temples, and Zuko eventually coaches Katara himself on the pushing.  Katara grits her teeth between her cries, patiently telling the baby: It’s alright, sweetheart.  Don’t be scared.  It’s going to be okay.  Your father is here.  He’s waiting.  He wants to meet you… and the couple who made this yet-to-be-seen miracle together watch themselves become a team, all over again. 

And finally, after so many hours in the hospital room…. Katara delivers a screaming baby girl into the world, and Zuko almost loses his balance from the shock of holding this girl… seeing this amazing little thing so loud, andalive, and squirming in his hands.  When the nurse carefully asks for the girl from him, Zuko feels the first signs of fatherly protection pass through his system… something that’s been stirring in him perhaps longer than he’s realized… but as quickly as they come, they pass… and Zuko sees Katara next to him, and he remembers where he is.  He obliges with a smile, and then takes Katara’s hand.

When the nurses clean and bring the bundled baby to Katara, Zuko has never seen his wife more beautiful, despite her exhausted self… or more radiant, despite her puffy face, tired smile, baggy eyes.  

He is in love, all over again. 

When Katara sees Zuko taking the baby’s little hand, watching his face change as the little girl curls her fingers around her father’s thumb… Katara feels herself falling in love with her husband all over again, too.  

They spend the night in that hospital room, the three of them cuddled together. 

And when Katara whispers to Zuko that it would be a nice tradition… to have him help hand-deliver all of their future babies… Zuko can only smile his agreement.  Zuko lifts his arm to find Katara’s back, caressing it softly, and bringing his family closer to his heart.