summary: malnourishment mentioned briefly, both reader and zuko are fire nation, childhood friends, sickness mentioned, set in book 2, zuko as lee.
a/n: most Zuko fics I see on tumblr are adult!Zuko and while I do appreciate all of them I’ve been missing angsty teen Zuzu :(
Zuko had learnt many things since the two of you decided to split up from Iroh on your travels.
Firslty, Zuko learnt that despite the both of you being raised in the same academies and sifting through hours of etiquette classes, you definelty knew how to complain and whine about the earth kingdom heat. Very unsophisticated in his opinion.
Secondly, Zuko realised how hard food was to come by in the desert. This, in turn, would lead to his grumbling stomach and malnutrition being ignored as he subsocinsoily worried about how much you had eaten. Of course, he’d never say so explicitly.
And thirdly, Zuko realised that even thought you complained and nagged and whined, he would’ve definetely lost his mind in that desert by himself.
Today, you’d found it harder to complain with your head rested against his shoulder due to the sheer emptiness in your stomach.
Every now and then, you’d find the energy to hum something and attempt to keep either of you entertained, but you’d soon give up when you remembered how dry your mouth was.
“You’re not feeling sick again are you?” Zuko asked, his voice slightly raspy from his equal dryness.
His question refereed to a few weeeks go, when you were still travelling with Iroh and the sheer heat of escaping Azula had caused you to come down with a horrible fever, which left you bedridden for days.
Zuko hated how helpless he’d felt then, and he was prepared to keep an eye out for you this time. Even if neither of you wanted to admit it, he saw you as his responsibility.
“..’m fine,” you rasped back, cheek pressed into his shoulder and eyes half lidded as he manoeuvred the ostrich horse through the desert. “I’d tell you if I wasn’t feeling great.”
A part of him doesn’t believe you, but he simply lets out a grunt as a response and steers forward.
He made sure even through the heat, that he could feel your arm around his waist.
Neither of you had a plan, but both of you had a goal. Zuko was still persistent on capturing the avatar, even when you two were deserted like this. Your goal was to support him, as you’d always tried to do.
However, recently you’ve started to feel your opinions shifting. Was this worth it? You’d both given up a lot when you separated from Iroh, there was a lot at stake to travel through the barren earth kingdom with barely any supplies.
So, as you wiped a bead of sweat from your forehead and wrapped your arms tighter around him, you couldn’t help but let out a soft sigh.
Glancing past him, you look into the horizon and feel a slight wave of relief knowing a town was coming up.
Hopefully when you reached this place, you’d be able to take a much needed break.
Hopefully.
a/n: lemme know if you spot any spelling mistakes, likes and reblogs are appreciated!
Description: You may not know Zuko, but you know Lee-- the tea-maker at The Jasmine Dragon.
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For the record, all you wanted to say was this: being homeless was not fun.
Sure, there were times when you were little that you wanted to leave the house. You tried to slam the door on your mom, who made you train because you couldn't waterbend and screech, "Good riddance, buttholes!"
Although you'd be grateful that you wouldn't be as annoying as the fat lady with her butt sticking out and her nose pointed high, you just wished you had a place to stay.
Four months. It had been four months since you were banished from the Northern Water Tribe, which was a memory you had tried to erase from your mind for days. You never liked to reminisce on that moment, not at all.
But now? Now, being homeless was the hardest thing that you've ever gone through.
"Excuse me?" You asked, eyeing a stranger who briskly walked past you. The woman who passed by always came around at four am, with her pants so big that you could see half her underwear, and her shirt so small that her big stomach seemed to bulge out.
"It's the fat lady!" You awed, then cupping your hands over your mouth when you realized you said it out loud. "Do you have any spare change-" you began as innocently as possible.
"Stay out of my way," the fat lady growled, smacking her bag in your face. You grumbled as you took a look in your metal disk that you used to pick up coins, empty, as always.
You saw another man pass by-- he was holding a long, wooden cane and wearing a pair of sunglasses.
"Do you have any spare change?" You asked, holding the disk out.
The man looked at you dead in the eye, only to shake his head and walk off.
You cursed under your breath and shivered. The sun wasn't even up yet, and the sky was still a deep shade of navy. There weren't many people walking around, but if there were, you'd probably have to leave before a bunch of other people started staring at you all weird.
You waved the disk up like a frisbee, closing your eyes and imagining yourself back in the Northern Water Tribe and playing games with all the other kids, but of course, that was nothing more than a fantasy world that you were living in.
Your hands traced along the scar you had since you were only four-- from the fire nation. The burn mark started just over your eyebrows, which coiled in a dark red line, which then inched its way down the very back of your neck.
You usually wore a mask or used a shield of hair to cover up the scar. It wasn't something you were very proud of-- as your mother always scolded, "scars are a way of ridiculing yourself. I cannot allow a member of my own family to have one."
You never liked to get deep into your backstory, so you pushed that fact away when you saw a teen boy walk towards your direction. He had blonde hair and freckles that went all over his face.
Eagerly, you outstretched your hand. "Do you have any spare change?"
The boy scoffed, rolled his eyes, and then crouched down in front of you. "Yeah," he said softly.
You looked expectantly as his hands rummaged into his pockets, only to come out empty as he slapped you across the face.
"Stay out of my way, freak!" he shouted as he kicked dust in your face and stomped away.
The slap hurt- it wasn't as bad as what you had gone through with your mom, but it certainly wasn't something that you were willing to reminisce on.
You traced your hand over where it stung most and winced.
...That was going to leave a mark.
You checked the time by peeking through an old tea shop, which read, 5:09 am.
You still had around three hours before you had to leave somewhere else, so you made the most of it and fell into a restless sleep.
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You woke up to the feeling of someone shaking your shoulder-- the first time you felt it, you simply brushed it off, turned over, and went back to sleep.
Then when you felt it again, you simply took one of the dirty rugs you had and covered it over your face-- you assumed it was another random boy who wanted to beat the living daylights out of you, but then you realized they would have hurt you already.
You opened your eyes to find a boy who looked around your age with jet black hair and golden eyes staring back at you.
Immediately, you got into a battle stance and launched backward, your hands rolled up in fists; the sudden movement making a dust cloud. "Don't touch me," you hissed, brushing a lock of hair from your face.
But when you looked at what he was wearing, inspecting a green apron which read, "The Jasmine Dragon," and holding a tray consisting of all sorts of teacups, you stepped back, apologizing.
"Ah..." you shook your head, embarrassed as you hid your face in shame. "Sorry, I didn't know you were- uh... what time is it?"
The golden-eyed boy looked towards the clock, saying, "It's around 8 in the morning. We're going to be opening in an hour."
"Oh!" you shook your head. "S-sorry, I didn't mean-"
"Nephew, who is this?" the boy's uncle, you assumed, came out of nowhere- he had warm almond brown eyes with friendly wrinkles that traced around his face. He took one good look at you, and he gave you a warm smile.
You decided to like him immediately.
"Sorry for nearly punching your nephew-"
"Bah, he has no problem with that,"
"-my name's (Y/N)." You continued promptly.
"(Y/N). What a lovely name. I'm Ir- Mushi," Mushi, he was called, smiled. He pointed towards the direction of the boy you nearly punched. "That is my nephew, Zu- I mean, Lee. So, who are you?"
"Homeless," the boy- Lee, he was called, replied for you instantly. "I just told her to leave, Uncle."
But as for Lee...?
You didn't like him too much-- and you didn't like being nicknamed, "homeless," even if it was true. It made you so angry that you felt sick to your stomach-- "homeless" wasn't what defined you.
"I'm sorry," you began, blinking your eyes furiously and packing up your things. "I'll leave, sorry about-"
"Lee!" Mushi scolded, his hands crossed punctually across his chest.
"What? Uncle, we need to get to work, we're opening-"
"In an hour," Mushi finished. "We have plenty of time."
The man's kindness he had was so beautiful that you nearly broke down-- not once had he called you homeless, nor had made fun of you. He didn't give you any looks of pity and instead talked to you like an average person-- not like a daughter who disgraced her entire family.
"(Y/N), how would you like to stay at our tea shop today?" Mushi offered. "We'd give you three square meals and a hot shower, how does that sound?"
You gaped, your eyes filled with hope but utterly confused at the same time. Lee seemed to be against it, but before he could speak, you declined first. "Oh, no! I can't, you're too kind, sir. That would be too much to ask; it's alright-"
"Bah, you are too modest, (Y/N)! It would-" the old man persisted.
"Mr. Mushi. It's alright, I promise you. This is too much, and I'm perfectly fine right now!" But if you were honest, that was a lie. If anything, you needed someone to help you, and you needed help now.
"It would be my pleasure," he smiled.
"Certainly not mine," Lee grumbled.
Mushi whispered, "I am deeply sorry about my nephew. He has trouble controlling his temper,"
"I can tell," you laughed. "It's alright-"
But before you could say another word, the old man was dragging you right into the tea shop.
And little did you know, in those few minutes, your entire life would change.
