Work Text:
Zuko is steadfastly, unflinchingly, resolutely, determined to be a Firelord incomparable to the ones before him. To his great-grandfather. To his grandfather. To his father. Zuko will not be like them; not in name, not in mind, and not in spirit. Zuko will pave his own way by the blood of his hands and the skin of his teeth, he will start the change that the Fire Nation needs in order to bring true peace to the nations.
Zuko is no fool; he knows that this will be incredibly demanding, impossibly difficult, and far too ambitious to fully complete in his lifetime. He knows he will have to walk a delicate balance between being too firm and seen as coldhearted, and being too indulging and coming off as soft. Zuko cannot afford to be seen as weak or Fire Nation will chew him up and spit him out and a new war will break out, more violent and devastating than before. Zuko also cannot afford to be seen as coldhearted, lest he is compared to his predecessors and loses the tenuous trust he has gained between the nations. Zuko may as well toss what remains of his dignity out the window in order to make amends to those who have been hurt by the war, but he needs every last shred of dignity he can muster in order to change things within the Fire Nation and have those changes stick.
There is a balance Zuko must achieve, a tightrope he will spend the rest of his days walking.
It’s a good thing Zuko has always had great balance.
It’s also a good thing that he has help figuring out where to start. He should have known it had to start with the children; it always does.
(Zuko is sitting with Aang in one of the gardens of the palace, drinking tea and doing their best to relax before they have to go back to their duties. It’s quiet around them, the gentle silence only broken by the buzzing of bugs and the soft chirps of animals. Zuko finds himself sitting in silence with Aang quite often now that they’ve both settled into their roles as leaders for the future, and he treasures these softer moments with Aang. So, he’s not exactly expecting it when Aang breaks this silence and promptly makes Zuko choke on his tea.
“You know, after we fought you and Azula in the catacombs in Ba Sing Se, we hid in the Fire Nation for a while.”
“You what ?” Zuko coughs, attempting to clear his lungs from the unwelcome liquid.
“Uh-huh, hid in plain sight,” Aang is deadpanning at him over the rim of his teacup, seemingly oblivious to Zuko almost dying in front of him. “I even went to school for a couple of days.”
“You went where ?” Zuko doesn’t know why he’s so surprised. This seems exactly the kind of thing Aang would do-- and yet here Zuko is, choking in shock and wasting his tea.
“Yup. Went to school. It was pretty eye-opening, actually. What kids are being taught here is weird. Creativity is stifled, discouraged. It’s rigid, no accounting for fun or mistakes or growth. There’s history, but it’s wrong. They’re lying to everyone, trying to make the war seem justified, trying to make kids believe the Fire Nation could never be wrong.”
“They’re conditioning kids, is what you’re saying.”
Aang hums. “No child, no person, is inherently good or evil. We are what we are taught. I was there for about a week, and the only school-sanctioned ‘fun’ was to make art of Ozai’s face. I don’t have to tell you that there’s something wrong there.”
“The first thing to go in a war is always fun. You take the fun, you take the hope.”
“There is always hope,” Aang refills his cup of tea, but doesn’t drink it. Looks into Zuko’s eyes, serious and breathtaking in the way that only Aang can be. “I was there for about a week, remember? In that time I taught a class of kids how to have fun and they did. They were themselves; strange, and kind, and wonderful. Hopeful. All they need is a reminder and the rest will follow.”
Start with the kids, Aang is saying. Start with the kids and the rest will follow.
Zuko can do that. Start with the kids, fix the Spirits awful school system, show them that the way the Fire Nation has done things in the past is wrong, bring back hope, and the rest will follow.
It was kids, after all, who ended the war. Why not keep changing the world while they’re at it?)
It’s that conversation with Aang that has led Zuko to where he is now, standing in front of the highest-ranking school in the Fire Nation, looking to start change.
Zuko has chosen this school, in particular, to start with because it seems like it will be the most resistant to change. Throughout the years of Ozai’s reign, this school has put out the brightest children, the strongest fighters, the most intelligent strategists. Entrance into this school is through recommendation only, and parents or guardians pay hefty tuition to enroll their children here. Future leaders, they say. They’ll thrive in the army, they’ll be generals in no time. There’s no stopping them.
Zuko sees no need for a school in which the purpose is to prepare children for war. If Zuko has his way-- and he will -- he will leave this school today having opened the children’s eyes to a different future. One with possibilities of a life they can live for themselves rather than serving the nation. Where they can live without hate and prejudice running through their veins like it’s their lifeblood.
The Fire Nation Academy for Gifted Youth, as it was so aptly titled, is an imposing building, standing nearly as tall as the palace. Sculpted from dark brick and even darker steel, the school looks more unwelcoming than the palace, which is a feat in and of itself. There is only one way to enter, and it’s through the harsh gate at the entrance of the building, manned by two staff that check students’ names off a list as they enter. The ages of students range from seven to seventeen and no child looks very happy to be attending. Zuko is almost impressed by how cold and intimidating the school manages to seem.
Zuko was early, very early, purposefully so he could observe the students as they enter. The staff manning the entrance had balked when Zuko first came in to view, both of them falling to their knees and bowing.
That behavior has only served to make Zuko deeply uncomfortable since he’s taken the mantle of Firelord. While he is cringing inwardly, he will make this blind devotion work in his favor for once.
Zuko stops feet from them, two of his guards by his side, both unwavering and wearing no-nonsense expressions that Zuko knows are fake. He’s brought with him Ming, an experienced firebender that has saved Zuko from more than one assassination attempt, has raised two daughters with his wife, and more often than not has a gentle and bright disposition; and Kai, a nonbender but a weapons master with incredible fighting skills who also happens to have a cheerful and playful disposition that makes him a wonderful people person. Zuko thought them the best to bring to a school, both for their abilities to sufficiently guard him and warm personalities. Zuko waits for the braver of the two school workers to stutter out a greeting and offer to send for the headmaster before cutting the man off and declining the offer.
“I’m just going to observe for the time being. I wanted to see the students naturally as they arrived. No need to get the headmaster until our previously discussed time.”
They are undoubtedly uncomfortable with that, but neither is willing to question him, going so far as to explain the entrance procedure. It’s long and complicated, and far too involved. Spirits forbid a child ever be late because there’s no way they would get to class in a timely matter if it takes this long for kids who are early. So, Zuko stands to the side, on the edge of the school grounds flanked by two of his most trusted guards, and he watches.
Zuko does not like what he sees.
Besides the kids looking apathetic at best as they enter school grounds, it is clear that there are more serious problems afoot. Many of the younger kids, and a fair few of the older ones, walk to school with hunched shoulders, staring at the ground and clutching their schoolbags like lifelines. It seems that the majority of kids are entering school quietly, either walking in silence or talking softly with others. There are some kids that are rowdier, walking up to the gates chatting loudly with friends and pushing each other around. Zuko is willing to overlook the pushing for now, as it seems more playful than anything, but he has a sinking suspicion that it will not stay that way.
Unfortunately for Zuko and his blood pressure, he’s right about that.
There’s a group of louder boys, not even teenagers yet, that loiter outside the gates. They ignore the teachers that tell them to come inside, instead moving farther so they aren’t in direct earshot. Zuko holds out hope for a moment that they’re simply waiting for another friend to show up, but those hopes are dashed when he sees the cruel gleam that lights their eyes when they catch sight of whoever they were waiting for.
The boy they converge on doesn’t look any different from them; seems the same age, about the same height and build. Zuko can’t hear what is being said to him, but based on how the boys’ shoulders draw higher and higher, it’s nothing nice. Zuko looks back to the teachers at the gate, hoping that one of them does something, but while they clearly see what is happening, neither do more than roll their eyes.
Zuko is debating stepping in or not, he really did come early only to watch, because the boys are taking up a lot of time with this spectacle and Zuko has no desire to know what laborious process this school has for tardy individuals. Zuko is going to leave them to it since it seems like they might be finished, a few of them backing away, when the boy who seems to be the ringleader lights a flame in his hand. The boy they were surrounding winces, the teachers avert their eyes, and Zuko sees red.
Zuko is at the boys’ side in seconds, him not having had time to do more than move forward threateningly before Zuko is there. Zuko is angry. Angry at the teachers for pointedly looking the other way. Angry at the kid for using his fire to intimidate and hurt another kid. Angry that behavior like this has been encouraged and expected for as long as he can remember.
Zuko is angry, but he cannot and will not, take it out on the kids. He will not be like his predecessors. He will not be like his father. He will not make them afraid of him.
Start with the kids and the rest will follow, Zuko thinks. Start here.
“And just what do you think you’re doing?” Zuko says as blandly as possible despite the anger flowing through him. Both boys startle, staring at him in shock, the flame dispersing now that the kid isn’t focusing on it. Neither says anything, continuing to stare at him. The rest of the group looks about to bolt, but the presence of Ming and Kai stops them short.
“Because it looked like you were about to burn one of your schoolmates. Intentionally,” disapproval and disappointment color his tone, and the kid pales a bit. In Zuko’s experience, disappointment has always been more effective than anger. Still, neither kid says anything.
Zuko sighs. He doesn’t want to be the one to have to lecture them, but clearly, the teachers are not, which is a separate problem of itself, “Right, okay. I’d like for all of you to be honest with me here. Do you bully him?”
Nods of the head ‘yes’.
“Do you burn him?” Yes.
“Do you hurt him in other ways?” Yes.
“Why do you think that’s okay?” Silence for a moment. Before the ringleader speaks up.
“He’s not a bender,” the kid says, trying to work up some anger. “He’s weak, he doesn’t deserve to be here.”
“Last I checked, nonbenders were more than welcome in this school. He earned his place here just like you did.”
“He’s not worth it! He’s just gonna end up a nobody, he’s just taking up a spot here.”
“So you think nonbenders are weak? And deserve less than you because you are a bender?”
“Yes!” Indignant, like the answer is obvious.
“Well, that’s just wrong,” Zuko sighs, crossing his arms and channeling as much disapproval as he can. The kids gape at him. “In my experience nonbenders are far more terrifying than any bender I’ve met.”
More gaping, incredulous. The nonbender kid looks wary like he doesn’t believe this is actually happening. “You know,” Zuko gestures to Kai, who was glaring at the kids. “My guard here isn’t a bender. Not at all, can’t get so much as smoke out of him. And I trust him with my life. Are you going to tell me he’s weak?”
Silence. Ah, the silence of those who know their wrong but refuse to say it.
“Alright, I want you kids to listen to me, and seriously think about what I’m saying,” Zuko crouches down to be more eye level with them. “There is nothing that makes one person worth more than another. Parentage, class, status, ability, nothing. I am worth just as much as each of you. I’m no better.”
“But you’re the Firelord,” one of the kids mumble.
“And you all are citizens that I am responsible for protecting. I would put my life on the line to protect any of you. You all deserve the same protection, deserve the same opportunities, and the same treatment. And right now, I have failed at my job of making sure that happens.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, that you kids have been treating your classmate like this, have been hurting him, and you believe that you were right to do so. I’ve failed in making it clear that treating someone as lesser than is not right.”
“Do you mean that?” The nonbender kid asks. “None of the teachers ever stop them.”
“How about I put it this way,” Zuko says, reeling in the indignation that flows through him. “If you were all adults, and I had seen you four acting like this on the street, threatening and harming another person at all, let alone with your bending, I would have the four of you arrested and charged.”
The kids balk. Zuko basks just a little. One of the kids tries to string together some kind of response, but Zuko doesn’t let him.
“Your teachers,” Zuko steamrolls ahead. “are wrong for having allowed this to happen, for not putting a stop to it. I’m sorry they haven’t done anything, and know that I’m going to be doing something about that.”
“You four,” Zuko continues, shifting to face the four bullies more fully. “have been done a disservice by being allowed to act this shamefully. You should have been taught to properly handle your bending. When to and when not to use it. Why to and why not to use it. There are plenty of practical uses for firebending and times when you can use it, just how there are times when using it is the worst abuse of power. Your fire is a very powerful tool, and it should not be used lightly or carelessly. Using your fire to hurt a classmate just because you don’t like them is a terrible and shameful way to use it. It’s disappointing that you believed this was an honorable and acceptable way to act.”
Zuko takes a moment to look the kids over. Four look properly chastised and contemplative, if not a bit confused; one looks tentatively hopeful though reasonably skeptical. Zuko hopes this actually made a difference.
All they need is a reminder and the rest will follow.
Zuko sneaks a glance at Ming, who nods his head towards the teachers at the gate, looking more and more jittery the longer Zuko talks to the kids.
“Alright,” Zuko breathes out deeply and straightens back up, giving the kids a small grin. “Head to class, try not to be late. Remember, I’m going to be keeping an eye on things to make sure you all really did take this talk to heart.”
The kids scamper off to the gate, quickly getting let in. Zuko stays back with his guards and sighs heavily. “I hate talking to kids. I really am bad at it.”
“It wasn’t terrible, sir,” Kai offers, watching a few stragglers rush to the gates. School will surely be starting soon.
“You stopped the bad behavior and told them why it was bad,” Ming starts. “And the whole ‘I’m disappointed’ schtick always works better than being angry. The Firelord is disappointed in them for how they’ve acted, that’s gonna stick with them. You’ve given them something to think about, at the very least.”
“It’s a start,” Zuko acknowledges. He starts walking towards the entrance when he sees someone who is undoubtedly the headmaster coming forward.
Start with the kids and the rest will follow.
Spirits, today is going to be a long day, Zuko can feel it.
Zuko does not like Headmaster Nishi of The Fire Nation Academy for Gifted Youth (Spirits, that name. Zuko briefly entertains the idea of forcing them to change it).
Zuko does not like her from the moment she opens her mouth to joke about how he already met some of her most promising students in the boys who were being bullies. He does not like how she excuses their behavior under the guise of ‘practicing their bending’. He does not like how she waves off his concerns about inappropriate bending practices. He does not like how she explains that it’s common practice for students to use their bending however they please while in school in order to ‘prepare them for the future’. As if these kids needed to be prepared to fight with their bending at a moment's notice.
As if they were still at war.
Zuko does, however, like the way she and the other two teachers still standing with them in front of the school flinch when he calls them deplorable and disgraceful for allowing and encouraging such harmful behavior.
(Zuko is very much wishing he had started at the school Akeno’s children go to. At least then he could have seen the rambunctious group of kids that broke into the palace earlier that year. Zuko would have enjoyed that far more.
But alas, here he is, headache incoming and it’s still early morning.)
The first place Headmaster Nishi takes Zuko is to her office. It takes her a moment to recover from the verbal lashing Zuko had given her outside, but after that, it seems she elects to ignore the whole interaction. Zuko does not plan to let that stand. Once in her office, she begins what sounds like a very rehearsed speech of the schools' amenities, goals, and accomplishments.
“In fact,” she says at one point. “Many accomplished military officials are alumni of our school. Admiral Zhao himself graduated from here!”
And oh, oh Spirits, Zuko should just shut the whole school down.
“I’m sure you’re aware that Admiral Zhao attending this school is nothing to be proud of,” Zuko allows himself to sneer. “He performed heinous acts during his time in the navy that would have had unimaginably horrific consequences on the world had Avatar Aang not been there to right his wrongs.”
Rather than try to talk herself out of that one, Headmaster Nishi continues on with her spiel, visibly more uncomfortable than before.
It goes on like that for a bit longer. Headmaster Nishi says something proudly that any other reasonable person would find horrifying, Zuko shames that statement, Headmaster Nishi flounders until she evidently gets over it, and the cycle repeats itself. At least, until some awareness slips in and she starts trying to downplay things.
(“And of course because so many of our students are talented firebenders, our teachers are encouraged to keep them in line however necessary-- though I’m sure you don’t want to hear about such things.”
“No, please tell me more about the school-sanctioned child abuse. Which teachers would you say do this the most often?”
“Fights are just always going to happen, unfortunately. The strong prey on the weak after all, it's only natural that--”
“So you encourage the bullying that happens within your school?”
“Well, there’s only so much we can do--”
“So you are incapable of instilling proper boundaries and morals into your students when they have potentially deadly flames at their fingertips? Tell me, Headmaster, what exactly are your credentials again?”
“Students who come from the more struggling areas or households are more of a risk to enroll, see, so we tend to charge them a higher tuition just to ensure--”
“I’m sorry, did you just admit to taking advantage of already struggling families by preying on their desires to give their children better lives? Does this school even have scholarships or anything of the like?”)
Eventually, it seems that either Zuko’s lecturing over her abysmal tactics has begun to sink in, or she’s tired of being the one to be lectured because she begins to lead Zuko on a tour of the school. Zuko does have to commend her for continuing to lead him herself and not pushing him off onto some poor, unsuspecting teacher or administrator.
She shows Zuko around the grounds first, currently devoid of any children, seeing as they’re all in classrooms at the moment. Zuko will just have to observe the kids outside at a different time-- perhaps lunch if he has time. Zuko has to admit-- and he even says so out loud, which makes Headmaster Nishi sigh in relief-- that the grounds actually seem to be made for children to relax and play and look well taken care of. The grounds are separated, which makes sense. Children ages seven to twelve get a section clearly meant for younger kids, with jungle gyms and other equipment that looks decent. Children thirteen to seventeen get another section, away from the younger kids, that is more mature; no jungle gyms or clear play objects, but still some equipment for kids to climb on or entertain themselves.
However, there is one part of the older kids ‘playground’ that concerns Zuko. A large rectangle is painted onto the ground and split into two sections. It reads eerily like a sparing ring. Zuko tells himself it could be for anything, really. Team sports, volleyball, hell tug-of-war even. Zuko has a sinking suspicion it is not for any of those reasons.
“Headmaster, what is this bit over here for?” Zuko asks as innocently as he can, gesturing to the huge sparing zone-- rectangle --.
Headmaster Nishi blanches which is an obvious tell on its own. Zuko can practically see the cogs turning in her head trying to spin this in a way that doesn’t seem like more school-sanctioned and approved bullying, harassment, and borderline abuse.
Headmaster Nishi gives up. “It’s a sparing spot,” she sighs. “It’s always supervised by at least one teacher during breaks. Kids are only allowed to go against those in their own grade, and they have to stay on their sides. If they cross the line in the middle, go out of bounds, or give up they lose. Whatever teacher is supervising can also call it.”
“Do you realize how horrifying this sounds when you say it out loud? You’re allowing your kids to participate in mini Agni Kais. The fact that you have so many rules about it should be a dead giveaway that this is a terrible idea.”
“The kids like to settle differences this way.”
“Think about that statement again. I shouldn’t have to tell you all the things wrong with that. As their main educator, you should have taught them how to settle differences in a nonviolent way.”
Headmaster Nishi sighs again. Zuko gets a mild pain behind his left eye. If this day turns out to give him a migraine, he’s calling in every favor he can to send Katara to the next school on the list. In fact, he might do that anyway, just so he can go with her and watch.
“Show me the classrooms next,” Zuko requests. “I want to see a history class to make sure the new curriculum of correct history is being taught. No more of the blatant propaganda. The new curriculum has been instated, correct?”
“Each of our teachers was given it once it was sent to all of the schools, Firelord Zuko. And since it’s been a few months since then, every teacher should have fully switched over to it, yes.”
“Well, let’s go see, shall we?”
Zuko thanks every Spirit he can think of that visiting the classrooms goes marginally better than every other part of the day has gone.
Headmaster Nishi takes him to a history class, just as he asked. Zuko has them all wait outside the room for a few minutes so he can eavesdrop without the teacher knowing he’s there— more authentic that way— and is pleased to not hear an ounce of Fire Nation propaganda. He’s even more pleased to hear that the teacher's tone isn’t derogatory or scornful when mentioning the other nations or the war. Small mercies, he supposes.
Entering that classroom is even better, because the kids are young enough to not have too many ingrained prejudices, and are starry-eyed when he enters the room. He lets the kids ask questions about him, and they mostly ask about his travels with the Avatar. Zuko gladly tells them about Aang and hopes he endeared them enough to make a difference.
Not all of the classes go as smoothly, but that was to be expected. Zuko tries not to reprimand the teachers too badly when they blatantly show their racism towards the other nations and disdain for the end of the war, but only so the kids don’t lose all respect for their teachers and cause anarchy. He doesn’t let a moment of it stand though, refuting all of their statements and ‘facts’ with as bland a face as he can manage.
He only has to threaten to bring Aang in one time with a particularly nasty teacher that dared to say the Airbenders deserved to be ‘irradicated’ before the man is pale with nerves. Zuko may lose his temper a bit during that one, but he doesn’t think he can be blamed for that. Even Headmaster Nishi had looked horrified the more the man spoke, though if that was because she was horrified at what he was saying or that he was saying it to Zuko, he’s not sure. Zuko made sure to get the man’s full name because he will most certainly not be keeping his job past today.
(Zuko wants to bring Katara here even more now, and not just because she would have diplomatic immunity. She would destroy these people. Zuko kind of wants to pay her to come here.)
Zuko moves from class to class after that, and thankfully no teachers are as terrible. Whether that’s because word has spread that Firelord Zuko is there are more than willing to dole out verbal lashings to whoever, or because classes really are going that well, Zuko supposes he won’t know. (He will, though. He keeps sending Ming and Kai back to eavesdrop on classrooms after they’ve left to see if things change once he’s gone.) Zuko doesn’t visit every classroom, but he thinks he sees enough to be satisfied with the picture he’s painted for himself.
Zuko hopes lunch goes easier. He knows it’s in vain, but he has to hope. There is always hope. Zuko is sure Aang didn’t mean that to be for situations like this, but it’s advice from the Avatar, so Zuko’s taking it.
Apparently, lunch is in two parts to lessen the chances of the younger and older kids mixing. Younger kids eat first, older after. It seems that occasionally, this school does in fact have common sense.
The lunch with the younger kids, Zuko will admit, is pretty fun. For the first half, he mostly hangs back with Ming and Kai discussing things they’ve seen and keeping an eye on the kids. There’s a decent amount of teachers out as well to keep an eye on the kids when they start playing. When they do start playing, Zuko keeps an eye out for fights or injuries to see how the teachers deescalate the situations. He only sees a few spats that get solved very quickly, and thankfully without much fighting.
Zuko spends most of the younger kids' lunch hour glued to a wall and keeping watch. At least, until a small girl, probably seven or eight runs up to him.
“Can I ask you a question, Mister?”
And well, that’s kind of adorable and Zuko is really only so strong. So he gets down on a knee and says, “Of course.”
“Who are you and why are you standing at the wall like a weirdo?”
Well then. Zuko lets his head hang down as Kai’s barking laughter and Ming’s more subdued chuckles wash over him. Really, he gets no respect from his guards.
“Well, I’m Firelord Zuko, I came to your school today to check things out, and now I’m just hanging out until lunch is over for everyone.”
“You’re really the Firelord?”
“Yup. I’ve got the crown and everything, see?”
“Oh, cool.” The kid doesn’t look exactly impressed, but Zuko will take what he can get. “Do you want to come play a game with us? We need one more person since Momo is out sick today.”
“What kind of game?”
“It’s a rescue game.”
“I suppose I could play.”
“Good,” without any further ado, the girl snatches one of Zuko’s hands and makes to pull him over to her friends.
“Yeah, Lord Zuko go play a game and stop leaning against the wall like a weirdo,” Kai snickers.
“What was that?” Zuko says as he’s pulled away. “You want to be put on the night shift for the rest of the month? Strange, but I suppose I can make that happen.”
Zuko leaves Kai sputtering, Ming following him at a much more subdued pace. And so Zuko spends the next twenty-odd minutes until the kids have to go back to class playing a captured prince-- “I guess you can be a prince instead of a princess.” “Can I not just be the Firelord?” “No, because then it’s not pretend otherwise.” “But I was already a prince before I was Firelord, so-- actually never mind.”-- being guarded by a master sorceress, and must be saved by two brave princesses who’ve come to help him. Zuko’s job is to be dramatic and be in distress, so really he thinks he does a pretty great job.
The kids seem happy at least, and they’ll have a fun story for the rest of their lives that no one will ever believe but they’ll swear happened. Wins all around, really.
The older kids' lunch hour is not nearly as fun, and Zuko held no hope that it would be.
From the get-go, Zuko is on the sparing ring like it’s no one’s business. Ming and Kai stay close to him, and Zuko knows he is very clearly daring any kids to come over to and attempt to use it. A lot of the kids are watching him and whispering among themselves-- unlike the younger kids, they all know who Zuko is--. Zuko wonders what will happen first; will two kids want to spar to settle some fight, or will two kids want to mess around and bait him? Or will kids think he approves of this and want to impress the Firelord by competing and winning? The thought makes Zuko feel sick.
Zuko doesn’t have to wait long, maybe fifteen minutes, before two older boys come walking towards him, snickering and pushing each other around and clearly just wanting to make a scene. They look to be only a few years younger than Zuko, he guesses fifteen.
That’s fine. Zuko can give them a scene. If there’s anything Zuko does while he’s here, it’s going to be getting rid of the makeshift Agni Kai’s that the school so approves of.
The boys are jeering at each other, teasing and throwing out trash talk that honestly makes Zuko miss Sokka a little with how poor it is. At least Sokka’s trash talk was mostly funny and occasionally intimidating when he got into the habit of analyzing his opponents out loud to unnerve them. These kids’ trash talk is just abysmal, it hurts Zuko’s soul a bit.
They really all need to get together soon. Zuko misses his friends.
The kids make their way into their respective sides. They’re tossing bets back and forth; the winner gets this, the loser has to do this. The crowd that has gathered is making their own bets amongst themselves on which of the boys will win. Too bad for them Zuko is planning on stopping this before it starts. The boys get into their positions, taking up fighting stances. They both surreptitiously glance at Zuko, who does nothing more than raise an eyebrow for now. They look back to each other, and with some unspoken communication and cheers from the crowd, begin.
Zuko sighs once, closing his eyes briefly. Zuko steps forward until he’s in the middle of the ring, dispersing the flames from the kids easily, and ends by crossing his arms over his chest.
The boys freeze, the kids surrounding them silence, either in shock or confusion. A few embers from the flames dance in the breeze before fading out. Time may as well be frozen for all that nobody moves. Zuko sighs again, louder this time.
“Do you kids realize how similar this is to an Agni Kai?” Zuko asks. Silence for a few moments, until the boy on Zuko’s left steels himself to speak.
“It’s not really that serious, though. We’re just messing around.”
“Your Headmaster told me you use this to settle fights, not just mess around. So even if you two are just ‘messing around’ right now, it’s been used for fights before, right?”
“Sometimes,” the same boy responds, but much more hesitant.
“Sometimes,” Zuko repeats. “Can you honestly tell me that no kids have ever been hurt from this?” No one responds this time.
“Right, I’ll take that as a ‘no’,” Zuko sighs again. “No matter how you look at it, this is a fire duel. There’s no winner until someone goes out of bounds or someone gives up, and you’re fighting with your bending the whole time. It’s similar enough to an Agni Kai, and no child should ever be participating in an Agni Kai. The school is wrong for allowing this. Your Headmaster and teachers are wrong for allowing this. It’s wrong, plain and simple.”
“They can’t really be that dangerous, can they? It’s just a fight.”
The pain behind Zuko’s left eye, which had faded just a bit, throbs again. “The majority of Agni Kai’s end in either serious injury or death. They are that dangerous. It’s not something to take lightly, and they should be avoided at all costs.”
The kids around him pale at the suggestion of death. Zuko would worry about frightening them, but they need to realize how serious this could be.
“You’ve fought in Agni Kais before though, haven’t you? Why would it be so bad?” the other boy asks.
Zuko lets his eyes fall closed again. “Yes, I have. Three of them, and I wish I had never been involved in any. I almost died during two of them.”
Zuko looks out over the kids again, most of them looking varying degrees of uncomfortable or upset, while some--mostly older ones-- look annoyed. Okay, Zuko can afford to traumatize some kids today. Zuko looks behind him to Ming and Kai, who look saddened and slightly ill respectively. Zuko knows that Kai became a guard after Zuko had been banished, but Ming has been a guard for longer than Zuko has been alive, and so has seen it all.
“How old are you two?” Zuko asks suddenly, looking between the two boys still in the ring.
“Sixteen.” Ah, so Zuko was close then.
“Sixteen,” Zuko echoes. “I was thirteen when I was challenged to my first Agni Kai.”
Zuko knows the story of his and his father’s Agni Kai is not well known. That it happened, yes, but the details have always been kept hushed. He won’t tell them all of it, but enough to get the message through.
“I was thirteen,” Zuko continues. “And my father challenged me to an Agni Kai because I spoke out of turn during a meeting. I refused to fight him because I thought it would be disrespectful to fight my father. In response, my father burned my face. In the days after that, I almost died from shock and infection from having such a severe burn in such a sensitive area. If we’re being technical, I lost that Agni Kai.”
Zuko pauses, observing the kids once more. More than a few look like they’ll be sick, plenty of them are staring at Zuko’s scar in horror.
“My second Agni Kai was when I was sixteen, so, your age.” Zuko continues, gesturing to the boys in the ring. “I challenged Admiral Zhao to an Agni Kai because I was young and stupid and cocky and he pissed me off immeasurably. I won that fight without delivering a fatal blow, even though I could have. Zhao was humiliated by that, but that’s a whole different story.”
“Anyway,” Zuko continues. “My third Agni Kai was when I was seventeen and it was against my sister for the title of Firelord. I won because of a technicality. Throughout the fight, I had the upper hand, so my sister decided to take more drastic measures. She had aimed a blow at a spectator with the intent to kill in an effort to distract me so she could take the fight. Because she attacked a spectator, she was disqualified. During that fight, I took the attack she had aimed at the spectator to protect them, meaning I took a lightning bolt to the chest. I don’t think I have to explain how that almost killed me.”
Zuko stops, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself from the resurfaced memories. He swears he feels the scars on his chest and eye throb in time with his heart. Maybe he should schedule some time to visit the South Pole or the Earth Kingdom after this because Spirits, Zuko misses his friends like an ache.
Zuko observes the kids again, finds that the majority of them look sad and upset, some of the older kids looking contemplative rather than annoyed now.
Start with the kids and the rest will follow.
“I’m telling you all this so you realize how dangerous fighting like this can be. It’s not just simple sparing or messing around with friends. Fighting like this has the potential to ruin people, to end people’s lives. Having a power like firebending comes with a great amount of responsibility. You cannot afford to use it lightly, or carelessly. Being careless, being frivolous with your bending, using it to hurt innocent people, using it for your own gain; are shameful ways to behave, not befit of a firebender and not befit of a Fire Nation citizen.”
“Learn how to settle your differences and conflicts in a different way, without resorting to an ancient and deadly duel,” Zuko continues. “Your school, your teachers, your parents, anyone who taught you that this was a viable way to do things has failed you. You have been done a disservice to be told this is okay, to have this encouraged. It’s not fair to you, it’s not fair to your peers, and it’s not to future generations who will look back on us and see that our history is written in blood and will have to carry that burden.”
“Go back to your break,” Zuko nods to the empty grounds. “Think on this. About why I spent half your lunch hour lecturing you. Go eat, relax, think .”
The kids disperse, and Zuko allows his shoulder to slump. He rubs his temple, walking back to Ming and Kai.
“Did you really beat Admiral Zhao in an Agni Kai?” Kai asks.
Zuko snorts. “Kicked his ass and then he whined about being beaten by a kid. Then he tried to kill me by blowing up my ship.”
Silence. Then, “He what?”
Zuko leaves the school a bit after lunch. He speaks to Headmaster Nishi one more time, giving proper goodbyes and thanks for giving up her day for him. He tells her that he’ll be in touch, too drained to do much more than smirk and the way she gulps.
The walk back to the palace is spent discussing what needs to be done still. Some of the teachers at the school will most certainly need to be questioned and evaluated, the one that really pissed Zuko off needs to be gotten rid of immediately. Zuko’s not totally convinced that the new curriculum is consistently being taught and that today went the way it did because they knew Zuko was coming. They’ll have to keep an eye on the students, make sure the discrimination is being taken care of, and that kids really do learn that it’s not okay. Zuko’s already planning to send someone to get rid of that Spirit’s awful sparing ring as soon as he gets back to the palace.
There’s still work to be done. It won’t be as simple or as easy as visiting the schools and hoping everything falls into place after that. He knows people are going to fight him on this, parents are going to be offended and upset, school officials will not want to change, kids won’t take to the changes easily. But, he’s shown them that he’s watching, that he’s serious, that he won’t back down from this, and that’s a start.
Start with the kids and the rest will follow.
“Do you think any of that today actually made a difference?” Kai wonders aloud. “I’d like to think it did, but I know that if someone had come to my school as a teenager and scolded all the firebenders for acting dishonorably, they’d shove it off like nothing.”
“With someone random, yes,” Ming agrees. “But the Firelord was the one saying these things. And no one can deny that positive changes have been made since Lord Zuko took the throne. They won’t dismiss him so easily.”
Zuko hums, looking up to the sun sitting high in the sky. It’s just after noon, and the sun is at its peak. “We have to believe that this has made a difference. At the least, it’s given them something to think about. Have hope that this is the beginning of a permanent change.”
“It may take time,” Ming says, pausing to toss a ball back to a cluster of children still too small for school. He gives them a cheery wave as they call out their thanks. “It may take time, but it’s a start.”
“Yes,” Zuko agrees, glancing at the sky once more before facing fully forward. “It’s a start. The rest will follow.”
Start with the kids and the rest will follow.