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nightstar-appreciation · 5 months

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zutara au where katara is an up and coming model/actress and zuko is the closed off guy who serves her tea at the shop next to her apartment.

Okay. Look. Listen. Against all odds, despite them filling all my favorite tropes, I do not actually… ship Zutara. I don’t read fics of them, I’ve never written them— which is wild, right? Wacky? Crazy? Doesn’t make sense. I know. I agree. Idk.

So I wrote this anyway and I have no clue what the fandom is like or how they characterize these characters but HERE WE GO DIVING IN HEADFIRST ANYWAY LETS GO

Katara already knew her and her brother had wildly different priorities— but moving into her new apartment proved that Sokka existed on an entirely different plane of reality.

“My sister has the cash to live anywhere she wants, but she picks a place next to the weirdest building in the city.” He had grumbled the day of the move, which kind of pissed Katara off.

Not because he called the building weird, but because that was his issue with it.

He should have been far more upset with the fact that the skyscraper belong to Ember Corp.

Katara pointed this out to him, to which Sokka only shrugged in reply, “I figured you didn’t care about that seeing as you moved in next door anyway.”

And then she had to stomp away in a huff to stop herself from snapping at him, because that would be hypocritical and ridiculous; but it wasn’t like she moved in next to the corporation that demolished their family’s home and community for parking lots because she didn’t care!

She did care! A lot! Maybe too much!

But then that was why she chose this apartment; the skyscraper next door wasn’t just a skyscraper.

Like Sokka said, it was…

Weird.

Good weird.

To be fair, Ba Sing Se as a whole was a little weird— a hodgepodge of shiny, towering buildings and ancient temples and Spiritbucks and cobblestones and sky trolleys.

No structure could compare to this one.

From a distance, it looked like a regular skyscraper; the architecture was more creative than most, but it didn’t stand out.

Then one’s gaze would travel down, and there, at the base…

A tea shop.

An old tea shop.

It wasn’t even all that fancy, though there were pieces that hinted at a rich history— the small, painted wood pillars on either side of the door, the round windows with various designs etched into them, and the roof— oh the roof! A beautiful hip-and-gable one with the edges flared up and rust red shingles that complimented the muted green of the shop itself.

Katara loved it.

And the fact that a skyscraper had been built atop was so ludicrous it made her dizzy.

She’d once asked Toph why it was like that, and in turn Toph explained that the rumor was that the old guy who owned the shop had been offered a ton of money from Ember Corp for the location. He refused to sell, but reportedly told them he’d be willing to sell the air above his shop for the same price, and a promise that his shop would stay— he wasn’t selling the land, after all.

So they reinforced the shop and foundation to be able to bear the weight, and just like that, a new skyscraper had risen above the city.

Katara only went to the tea shop.

She wasn’t sure what about it was so enticing. Maybe it was how peaceful it was; even when the giant sliding doors were left open in the summer, the noise of the city never seemed to penetrate the shop fully. The smell of tea soothed her. It was soft, and sweet, and earthy, and strangely reminded her of home.

Which was wildly different in culture, but… she felt safe here. Like she had at home. Before it was taken.

That could be the reason she came— she liked seeing something old and ancient stand up to an entity like Ember Corp. It filled her with satisfaction to see something refuse to give in to intimidation, to be immovable in the face of “innovation.”

It was almost sacred in a way.

So she found herself stopping by every morning on the way to work— be it a photoshoot or commercial or audition— for some matcha to perk her up. And every evening, if the shop was still open, she’d grab a Jasmine brew on the way home.

The owner was so kind, a round, elderly man with a gravely voice filled with mirth. He insisted on being referred to as “Uncle Iroh,” which Katara didn’t mind. Sokka was her only family in the city, as their Gran and Father and what remained of their community migrated to the southern towns after their neighborhood was sold out from under them.

She could use an Uncle these days.

On one particular morning she was running late. She whirled into the shop, juggling various items while she searched her purse— sunglasses, phone, the audition packet, chapstick, planner, book for the trolley— ah! Wallet!

But when Katara turned to the counter, it wasn’t Uncle Iroh who she saw; a grumpy looking guy stood there, shaggy hair falling in gold eyes. Those eyes were what she noticed first, bright and intense and filled with an emotion she couldn’t quite place— anger? Contempt? For… her?

The scar, she noticed second. Which upon reflection was a little ridiculous, considering that the angry deep red color and mottled flesh took up nearly half of his face. Not that it should have been what people saw first when they looked at him, she was certain he probably hated it being pointed out, but it was hard to miss.

They stared at each other a moment.

“…Hi?” Katara ventured, less confused by the new employee than the fact that he apparently had no customer service skills. No “Welcome to the Jasmine Dragon!” or “Can I take your order?” or even a rude “What do you want?”

The boy’s brow just furrowed deeper, which seemed almost impossible, yet there he was— basically one big furrow at this point.

“…Um…” When it became clear the grumpy employee had no intention of being friendly, Katara ventured, “Can I have a hot matcha to go?”

She waited anxiously as he punched the order in, finally speaking, “That’ll be six yuans.”

It was Katara’s turn to be the furrower. “Six? It’s usually three, isn’t it?”

This was met with an eye roll and a breathy huff, “My Uncle is… let’s just say he gives discounts more often than he should.”

Katara lamented that the new price would likely mean she’d only have one tea stop a day rather than two, but didn’t argue as she zipped open her wallet, uninterested in prolonging this weird interaction that made her more and more late by the second. She passed the rectangular coins over, and the boy dropped them into the register before turning on his heel to prepare the tea.

That was weird.

But so was a tea shop with a skyscraper balanced atop.

She crossed her arms, checking her phone for the time over and over again. Why was this taking so long?

Katara leaned over the counter to see what the boy was doing, and blinked. The kettle was—

“Are you… are you boiling water?!”

He frowned back at her— though it was likely just a regular look, if frowning was his default state as it appeared to be. “…I don’t know how you make hot tea, but here we boil it.”

“Yes but—“ Katara cut herself off, biting her tongue so that she could calm the ever growing frustration bubbling within. Sokka said she was hot headed, ironic considering where their ancestors came from. Finally, she managed to speak with an even, calm tone; “You have a boiling water tap.”

“…A what?”

Dear Spirits, this guy...

“The owner, he only uses the kettle at night when it’s less busy, for a more authentic experience. In the mornings, he uses the tap— or an electric kettle.”

The guy glanced around. “Because the mornings are so busy?”

To be fair, the shop was empty at the moment. Katara wondered if it was due to the upcoming holiday.

“Yes.” Katara ground out through gritted teeth.

He shrugged in response. “There’s no rush now, so it’s not a big deal.”

“It is!” She finally burst out, “It is a big deal! I’m late for work!”

The boy seemed taken aback for a moment, blinking at her. Then his face hardened. “It’s not my problem if you didn’t leave early enough.”

“But it is your problem that you don’t know how to do your job correctly!” Katara snapped back.

This seemed to rile up the guy even more, his nostrils flaring, “I didn’t even want—“

He was interrupted by the scream of the kettle, and he turned his back on her to remove it from the heat. Katara rubbed the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache encroach on the edges of her consciousness.

It only grew when she looked up to see him dropping a teabag into the cup of water.

“What are you doing?!” She demanded, aghast.

He glanced up, confusion mingling with his frustration this time. “Making tea?”

“I asked for matcha!” Her voice was shrill now, but she couldn’t help it— who hired this guy?!

“…Is this not matcha…?”

“That’s green tea!” And in a bag rather than an infuser, no less!

“Matcha is green tea though.”

“It’s prepared differently!” Katara leaned further over the counter, her braid hanging over the opposite edge as she craned her neck, “Look, Uncle Iroh keeps the materials right there under—“

“Hey, don’t lean over here like that!”

“Or what?” She retorted as the guy stalked towards her, “Mad that I know this place better than you do?”

With the way his eyes narrowed, he was indeed mad about that. “No, I’m not— the money is over here!” He waved his hands at her in a shooing motion. At least he had the intelligence to know not to put his hands on her.

Katara snorted. “Do I look like a robber?”

“You look like a pain in the—“

“Nephew? I heard the kettle…” A sleepy voice interrupted them, and Katara quickly straightened from being sprawled over the counter as a bleary-eyed Uncle Iroh parted the curtains to stare at them.

“Uncle, this girl—“ he pointed, “should be banned from the shop.”

Uncle Iroh yawned, turning his gaze to Katara. Then he brightened. “Ah, Miss Katara, a pleasure to see you— picking up your usual, I take it?”

“Well, yes, but…” she hesitated. A moment ago she had been ready to go ballistic, but Iroh had called the guy ‘Nephew’… so he was his literal uncle? Tattling to family felt a bit childish. “It’s fine.”

“Is it now? Well, I see you’ve met my nephew, Katara, this is—“

“Lee.” The boy interrupted immediately, his hand flying up to cover the name tag pinned to his apron, “My name is Lee.” He looked meaningfully at his Uncle, who merely shrugged.

“He will be working here from now on, so I hope that…” Iroh’s voice trailed off as his gaze wandered to the cup of tea. He blanched. “Z— Lee, did Katara ask for green tea?”

It was Lee’s turn to go pale. “Well, she asked for matcha, and that’s basically—“

Uncle Iroh groaned as he hurried to the tea, nose wrinkling in disgust, “And a bag, too! Where did you even find— no, no bags! We use these!” He waved around an infuser wildly, and Lee grew more indignant.

“Well how was I supposed to know that?! Why do you have teabags if we don’t—“

“Never mind that!” Uncle Iroh bustled around, scooping the matcha into the chawan to whisk, “Clearly you are far worse off than I thought— what has your father been teaching you?”

“Business! And finances, and—“ a furtive glance was shot towards Katara, “and things way more important than making tea!”

“Bah!” Iroh finished whisking and began to prepare the drink, “Very few things in life are more worth knowing than this.” He snapped the lid onto the cup and passed it over the counter with a cheery smile, “There you are my dear, I hope it’s to your liking.”

Katara was already speeding for the door with a wave, “I’m sure it’ll be perfect as always— see you tonight?”

“We’ll be open— and I’ll make sure my Nephew knows how to at least brew jasmine by then.”

“Uncle.”

Katara jogged to the sky trolley stop, her mind racing a bit. Uncle Iroh said Lee would be working there from then on… and if today was anything to go by, her once peaceful escape was about to become a whole lot more stressful.

Unfortunately, slinking into the agency thirty minutes after she was supposed to did not go unnoticed. But the lecture about professionalism and punctuality in the industry was brief, and the day passed in a blur. Lee was nowhere to be found during her evening stop, though Uncle Iroh was appalled to discover that he had charged Katara full price for the matcha. He insisted on giving her the evening mug of piping hot jasmine at no cost, and she took up her usual place on the patio to sit and read and relax before tromping up to her apartment.

The weeks passed fast, and to Katara’s dismay, Lee was now there every time she stopped in.

Figures. Her luck had always gone overboard to balance out— placed first in the third grade spelling bee? Broke her arm on the way home. High school valedictorian? Congratulations, your childhood home is being bulldozed! Career picking up? An annoying man now works at your favorite place in the world.

…Maybe one of those things wasn’t like the others, but it still irked her.

But Lee didn’t speak to her again beyond the curt welcome he gave everyone, the exchanging of funds (he gave her the Uncle Iroh discount now,) and the call of her name when the tea was at the counter.

Katara didn’t like hearing her name on his lips. It was wrong. It made the hairs on the back of her neck prickle, made her body tighten and squirm in an uncomfortable way.

A fight or flight response, she reasoned.

And then one evening, he didn’t call it.

She was curled in the plush chair that Iroh always let her drag to the patio in the evenings. Days were getting longer again, so the sun hadn’t quite set yet, casting a golden glow between buildings.

The day had been exhausting; three auditions and two photoshoots. Katara had been up since 3am for the first shoot, but despite her yawns and heavy lids, she couldn’t resist the allure of Iroh’s tea.

Katara was reading. Well, she thought she was reading; but when the sound of a clearing throat made her eyes flutter open, the sky was much darker and the streets bathed in blue rather than gold.

Her head felt cotton-y in the way it did when one took an impromptu nap, and she yawned, looking up from her curled up position on the chair to see Lee standing next to her.

“Ah— sorry, is it closing time…?” She began to straighten out, reaching for her bag, but Lee shook his head.

“No, uh… no. I just… here.” He held out the teacup. “Free refill.”

Katara blinked, “Oh.”

Lee shifted uncomfortably, and it took a moment for Katara to realize what she was seeing; he was nervous. “If you don’t want it, I can—“

“No, no I do!” She nodded to the side table, placing the book that had become wedged between her and the cushions on it as well. “Tell your Uncle thank you.”

“Uncle’s not here.” Lee said. Then he hesitated. “I… I can tell him when he gets back.”

Katara reached for the cup. It smelled amazing, and she sipped at the rich, floral drink. It was different than usual, but good different.

So she took a deeper sip, licking her lips as droplets clung to them.

Her face lifted to Lee, who was shifting his weight back and forth anxiously. Anticipating.

And then it hit her.

“You made this?” She asked— since that first meeting, Lee had only made one of her orders when his Uncle had stepped out. It had been rather disappointing.

“Uh… yeah.”

“It’s really good.” To her surprise, Lee almost smiled, the corners of his lips tugging up as his body relaxed.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She confirmed. “Did you add something different…?”

“A few things— Uncle thinks that jasmine is best on its own but…” He shrugged. “I don’t know. I… got bored.”

“Well maybe you should be bored more often if this is the result.”

The furrow that lived between Lee’s brow and where another brow once grew smoothed in surprise— no, that wasn’t a strong enough word for it— shock? The emotion was fleeting, gone in an instant, though his face managed to retain its new relaxed state. “That’s the second compliment you’ve given me. Maybe I should buy a lottery ticket.”

Katara surprised herself by laughing. “You gave me a free drink, so maybe I should buy one too.”

Lee ran a hand through his hair, revealing how his scar stretched up to his forehead; “Well, uh, I should—“

“Do you want to sit for a second?”

Lee immediately, wordlessly dragged one of the patio chairs up next to her in response, flopping into it.

They sat in silence for a minute, watching the occasional car pass by.

Then Katara couldn’t help herself; “Why did you start working here? You didn’t seem like you liked tea all that much.”

Lee sighed, his hand mussing up his hair again; he did that a lot, as if he wasn’t used to having so little of it. “I… messed up big time back home.” His head tilted back to gaze up at the skyscraper that towered above the shop behind them. “So my father sent me here to… I don’t know. Punish me, I guess. Cut me off, told me I couldn’t come back until…” he trailed off. “…you know, I was lucky my Uncle even agreed to let me stay here. If he hadn’t… I don’t know what I would have done.”

Katara couldn’t imagine it— what sort of father would abandon his kid like that?

Sure, she felt abandoned by her own dad half the time, but… at least when he left, he did it knowing her and Sokka were safe and cared for. And at least she didn’t doubt that he loved her, as angry as she was at him for his choices.

She cleared her throat, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pried—“

“No, it’s okay.” Lee’s voice had a rasp to it, the sound of someone trying to hold emotion at bay. “It… it was probably time I told someone about it. I haven’t exactly made a ton of friends here.”

Katara spoke before she even realized she’d decided to; “You can come out with me and my friends sometime.”

Lee tilted his head to her, a puzzled expression on his features, “…Me?”

“Do you see anyone else here?”

And then a real smile played across his lips, “Are all your friends hot shot movie stars too?”

It was once more Katara’s turn to be surprised. “You— that— I’m not even close to a ‘hot shot movie star!’” She laughed and tugged on her braid nervously, suddenly feeling shy. “You know who I am?”

“Yeah.”

“Since the beginning?”

“…Yeah.” His voice was softer, more reserved, as if the question had stirred something in him. Guilt?

Katara pressed on, not wanting to ruin the new atmosphere they’d built for themselves. “So you’ve seen me in… what, shampoo commercials?”

Lee shook his head, “Nah, my fa— someone my mom used to be friends with, uh… helped fund that one movie; Glacier Soul?”

“You… you remember me from that?” She laughed again, both delighted and aghast, “It wasn’t even a big role, I wasn’t a lead or anything— and I wasn’t great in it—“

“No.” Lee‘s voice was firm, no room for disagreement. If he didn’t sound so earnest, Katara may have assumed he was just being nice. “You were perfect.”

Katara shifted, warmth spreading on her cheeks. The prickle on her neck, the tightness in her body, those both were present now too; but it wasn’t fight or flight this time, was it? Had it ever been? “Well I… I’m glad you liked me. I mean, me in it. It was my first dramatic film and… and I’m just… glad.”

They both fell silent, Katara downing the rest of her tea to keep from saying more dumb things.

“So…” Lee was hesitating again. “When… when are you and your friends next…?”

“Oh!” Katara reached for her bag, rummaging for a pen, “Here, one sec—“ she grabbed her napkin and jotted down her number. “Text me when I leave, I’ll let you know next time we have plans.”

Lee seemed completely out of his element as he stared at the napkin she’d shoved at him; as if he couldn’t believe it was actually there. Finally, he nodded, “Right, yeah, that sounds— yeah. Good. Great.”

“Yeah?” Katara asked teasingly.

There was another hint of a smile when he replied with, “Yeah.”

Her body was heavy again, so Katara started to gather her things. “Well, good to know you’re not so bad when you’re not extorting people or serving them poisoned tea.”

Lee sputtered, “I… I haven’t done either of those things!”

“Mm, that green tea you tried to give me looked pretty deadly.” He seemed troubled despite the tease, and Katara nudged him as she stood. “Tonight though? That jasmine tea was ridiculously good.”

Lee relaxed again, understanding the jests now and looking quite pleased with himself, “I practiced.”

“I can tell.” Katara yawned and stretched, her body complaining after being curled up for so long, “Well, Lee, I’m glad I got to know you a little better.”

He was running a hand through his dark locks again, looking as if he were going through some sort of inner turmoil despite the small smile on his lips, “Y-yeah, me too, listen, uh…” he took a breath. Then another. “I’m… I…” and then he deflated, “I’m glad too.”

Katara said goodnight, made him promise to text her as soon as she walked out the door, and as she strolled to the next building over, she realized she felt light. Bubbly. Happy.

So their first meeting had been rocky; she couldn’t blame the guy for having a bad day, especially since it sounded like he’d been through the wringer shortly before that.

Why should a bad first impression affect this one?

Katara’s phone buzzed with a text, and when she pulled it out she saw a little fire emoji.

And then she texted back something that normally she’d never in a million years say.

‘Is this your way of saying I’m hot?’

Sokka would laugh in the face of anyone who implied his uptight little sister had flirted.

Lee’s reply was immediate.

‘What?! No! What???? It’s just my favorite!’

‘…wait, don’t take that the wrong way, I mean, I’m not saying you aren’t’

‘Uh’

‘I mean’

‘Can you just ignore all of that? Please?’

‘…Please?’

Katara laughed. Normally she might over analyze his panicked denial, worry she overstepped, but… something felt different about Lee. He was so serious, serious in a way that made her loosen up.

Her brother often told her she was a stick in the mud. And maybe she was, maybe she was austere and boring and too much a stickler for rules… But Lee made her feel like she was fun, too.

‘Ignore what?’

‘I didn’t see anything :)’

‘….thank you.’

She hummed to herself as she savored the taste of jasmine still on her tongue.

Maybe Lee wasn’t so bad.

And maybe… maybe now she had more than one reason to look forward to her morning matcha.

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