That pain makes me think of you
Summary:Zuko hurts himself to remember Katara
As a fire countryman, being burned by flames is a joke.
But alas, since they are overwhelmed by power, status, and having a better life than others, that will be the only thing they remember.
Zuko untied the bandage that was wrapped around his back, first opening the small knot, and then slowly undoing the bandage he had left behind him from the place where he had begun to bleed to stop the bleeding. The slow heat seemed to burn through his entire left rear shoulder and the pain almost made his crossed legs spasm. Pressing down on the uncomfortable twitching of his calf, Zuko untied a white bandage with his teeth.
"Uh-huh..." He groaned, letting the scalding, still healing scars fill his entire nerves.
It wasn't an accident, the one on his back was probably the size of a kettle. When it really happened, he didn't really have anything to say. He knows.
In order to catch up with the avatar squad, he desperately followed in their footsteps outside his own pace.
Even though he knows how much he has done to hurt the other person, he still has no hesitation in trying to catch up and say some lame arguments to make himself more convinced. No, not simply to yourself. Also to her.
What was he going to do to make the dark-skinned Water Sect girl forget her hatred for him?
Maybe that wouldn't happen for a lifetime.
Given what he had done in the Earth Kingdom, it was just as she was about to use the vital Arctic water on the scar on the left side of his face. He said, "It's a scar, and the scar won't heal. And she said, "Maybe I can use this Arctic water?"
He couldn't forget the tone in which she said it. When only he and she were locked up in the Crystal Cave, she showed him rare kindness.
Zuko clenched his teeth and closed his eyes to sprinkle the white medicine on the back of the burn.
The "hissing —" represents the chemical action of the smoke after him, and the pain of the drill heart makes his forehead sweat.
Large patches of torn scar tissue spread over his left shoulder, just as he could move the humerus of his left arm. Bending the sphere of his left arm, Zuko forced himself to bite into a rag used to wipe away sweat.
A small part of the scab was slowly cut off by his fingers, and the brown-red or black tissue that originally represented blood fell to the ground and became the smoke of yesterday that could disappear as soon as the wind blew. Honestly, he didn't feel pain, he just thought it would be a little longer.
The fingernails of his right hand were covered with the black-red color of his old blood, and he looked blankly at his calloused palm.
According to the prescription given by the kind old man he met on the road, his burns can get better as long as they are well nursed for a while. But by the beginning of the third month, the traces of iron tongs had not diminished.
He threw his shirt aside, and the left sleeve that was pulled open looked empty because his hand was not inside. As a citizen of the Fiery Nation, he should know exactly how to treat the most common burns.
But no, he preferred to recall that day in his own way, in a clear and slightly sour feeling.
Again and again, he found them and tried to apologize.
But he was not good at words by nature, and a distorted remark made the person he wanted to see more and more angry. Since he broke into the dispute between the avatar Squad and a local black merchant, he was easily targeted.
The iron soldering iron taken out of the stove left a scar on his back without hesitation, and the person who rushed over obviously did not expect that he would stand so stupidly and be backstabbed. After dropping the iron rod in horror, he screamed and ran away. Leaving him to cover his left shoulder and continue to confront them.
No, actually with her.
The blue eyes he had seen many times contracted fiercely at first, and she slightly retracted her confrontation posture in front of him, but she still did not let go of her burden on him.
"What do you want?" She asked.
And he stood there, scratched by the burning discomfort of his back.
Struggling to speak, Zuko heard his voice say, "Katara..."
and then there was no follow-up.
She hated him. He knows.
Silently preparing a brand new white bandage for himself, Zuko was determined to do it again.
He looked at the carpet under him, and hung a faded carpet in the corner of someone else's house that was white and could not see the pattern. He sat there cross-legged, staring into the palm of his hand in a daze.
He remembered the first time he had seen her in Antarctica, along with her brother and the avatar he had been hunting.
"Katara. "He took her necklace from the pirates.
The name of the girl he had betrayed in Ba Sing Se, just a second before she had offered to heal the shameful scars on his face with the precious oasis water.
He always regretted it too late.
Not knowing what he wanted, he was led by Azura by the nose.
But more importantly, wasn't it his subconscious that made him do it?
If his sister was a little moved, he would lean over and follow the steps she wanted. Doesn't that mean he himself wants things to go that way?
He just held his head high, one hand reaching down, the other digging deep into the burned tissue behind his back with his sharp fingernails.
Pain and nerve pleasure struck at the same time, and he had no idea which one he was going to react to first. Zuko closed his eyes and tugged at the bandage he had re-prepared in his cloudy breath.
The pain made him remember her, even though she brought him more of a mental torment.
And he gave them most of the physical torture. He wished she could hate him a little less.
Or maybe it doesn't matter if it's more. As long as she could see into his eyes again.
Even though the distance between them never exceeded ten centimeters, he always gave up the ten centimeters and went back to find them. But that didn't work, if he had woken up earlier, if he had seen through Azura's manipulation of him earlier...
But that doesn't make sense.
Everything lost its meaning as she spread her hands and swept the clear breath-taking water towards him.
He whispered, pressing his fingers deeper in a sigh of relief.
Even if it would leave a new scar on his body, even if it would make the scar on his back getting better slower.
Zuko thought it was good, because the pain reminded him of her.
In the instant that his skin was burned that day, she looked into his eyes as if a bone-chilling water had been sent to him.
Because he wanted to think of her.
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