For a meme, as requested by schellibie.


Aang's face goes a particular shade of pink.

"I—we—Katara's not my girlfriend."

Zuko pats him on the shoulder.

"Yeah, when I was your age I used to say the same thing about Mai."


The temple is crumbling, covered in mold and coated with dust. Zuko's surprised the thing hasn't completely fallen off the mountain yet. Aang surveys the rotting view with a distant look in his eyes.

"Once, this place was home."

Zuko thinks of a red palace, sparkling and gleaming, the interior spotless and richly decorated.

"I know how you feel."


"You know," Aang muses, studying the stripes of shadow cast upon the statues as the sun sets behind them, "I never knew my real father. But the man who raised me was the best parent I could ask for."

Zuko only nods, breathing steam to heat his cooling cup of tea.


"I don't understand," Zuko sighs. "I insulted your beliefs and the morals of your culture, and you forgive me so…easily."

Aang opens one eye. "I know you didn't really mean it, Zuko. And if you did, forgiveness is part of my beliefs and my culture. It's something I seek anyway."

"But if you could've stayed mad at me longer, I'd feel better about asking for forgiveness. That way I could redeem my honor. Honor is my culture's forgiveness, you could say."

"Then I guess our morals are at war." Aang opens his other eye and shifts out of the lotus position, offering a hand. "Truce?"

They shake. There is the sound of distant shouting, Katara and Toph's voices distinguishable.

"If only everyone else had the same morals," Aang says, making Zuko chuckle.


Zuko's hair is slipping from his topknot, and Aang's robes are several sizes too big. They can hear the crowd assembled, energy pulsing through the air and making knots in their stomachs.

"It's our world now."

Zuko nods. "You scared?"

"Terrified," Aang answers.

Together, they push aside the curtain to meet the future.