#i posted this on ao3 2 nights ago but forgot to post it here whoops

[naireides]

you drew stars around my scars

katara learns the story behind zuko's scar; coaxed into writing this by @hooksandheroics​ aka my zutara screaming partner

zutara week day 6: affirm rated G | wc: 2.2k read on ao3 here

affirm  /əˈfəːm/ offer (someone) emotional support or encouragement.

-

As with most things, it starts with Sokka.

“I got this one when I was a four and slipped on the ice, and I got this one when Katara was practicing with her water knives, and, oh! This one is from when we escaped from Ba Sing Se. It kinda looks like a koalaotter if you squint,” he says eagerly as he rolls up the hem of his pants to show off the slightly raised patch of skin on his shin.

“It does not look like a koalaotter,” Katara says with a roll of her eyes. “It’s just a scar .”

“That’s because you don’t have an artist’s eye,” he sniffs in disdain. “Aang, you see a koalaotter, right?”

He hesitates, looking between the siblings “Uh, well,” he fumbles, leaning to get a closer look of Sokka’s leg, “I guess if I squint --”

“Don’t mind them, Sokka, I think it looks like a koalaotter,” says Toph, where she leaned back against Appa’s side, flicking pebbles in the air.

He grins triumphantly. “See! I told you-- hey .” He glares at her as she starts to laugh.”I’ve got to stop falling for that.”

“You make it too easy,” she giggles before turning over onto her stomach. “I don’t have any cool scars.”

“How would you even know?”

“I just do, Twinkletoes,” she says, blowing a raspberry his way.

Aang looks sour for a second before he brightens and yanks his pants up over his knee. “One time in Omashu I was Bumi and I got this,” he says excitedly gesturing to the hypertrophic scar that graced his knee. “It looks like a map of the Fire Nation!”

Sokka leans in closer, trying to get a better look at it in the flickering light of the campfire. He strokes his chin and says, “Yeah, it actually kinda does.”

“Let me guess,” Katara says flatly, “You and Bumi had a slide accident, didn’t you?”

Aang’s responding sheepish laughter and the faint colour that rises to his cheeks tell her everything that she needs to know.

“What about you, Katara?” he asks, directing the attention to her instead of himself, “Do you have any cool scars?”

She shrugs. “No, not really.”

He pouts. “C’mon. Not even a little one?”

“Yeah Katara, not even a little one,” taunts Sokka, “You know, like when Gran-Gran taught you how to sew and you accidentally stitched your glove to your thigh.”

“Sokka!” she snaps, cheeks ablaze, while the others roar with laughter. “At least I know how to sew. You still ask Gran-Gran to darn your socks!”

It’s his turn to flush now, embarrassment creeping over him. “Zuko!” he calls out, eyes falling on the other boy who’s been surprisingly quiet this whole time. He’s sitting in the shadows, just out of their little fireside circle. “You’re up. Story time.”

His good eye widens as they all look towards him, waiting. “Uh,” he stutters for a moment before pulling the neckline of his shirt. “I have one on my shoulder that kind of looks like a fire lily?” He twists, giving them a glimpse of it for just a second before fixing his shirt to rights. “Azula pushed me into the turtle duck pond when I was ten.”

“Your sister is a psychopath,” Sokka says unimpressed.

“She’s not a psychopath,” he says, still awkward as he rubs the back of his neck, “Just… misunderstood.”

“If you say so.”

“I’m going to take a walk,” he says, abruptly standing up and stalking off into the night before anyone else can get a word in.

They all watch him leave but Katara’s eyes linger the longest, even as Toph changes the topic by saying, “What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever eaten? I’ll go first! It was sand!”

They continue on with their usual fireside banter until they start yawning more than talking and then, one by one, they tuck in for the night, curling up in their sleeping bags as the fire dwindles to just embers.

Katara waits until Sokka’s sleepy mumbling trail off into snores before she unfurls herself and heads down the rocky pathway to the shore that Zuko had taken earlier.

She finds him there, standing on the still warm sand and staring out at the ocean, nothing but the faint glow of the moon to illuminate his profile. The moon tugs at something in her veins, calling her towards the water, but she ignores it in favour of padding across to where he stood in complete silence.

He doesn’t say anything as she comes to stand next to him, shoulder to shoulder. The heat radiating off of him is a nice contrast to the cool night’s air that swirls around them, laden heavy with salt and sea.

They stand there together, watch the waves lap against the shore, just far enough inland that the water barely brushes against their toes.

“Everyone’s gone to bed,” she says after a couple moments have passed.

When he doesn’t say anything in return, she shifts closer, placing her hand on his shoulder. “Hey. You should get some rest too.”

“I’m fine.”

She sighs inwardly before moving to step in front of his gaze and his head jerks back. “Look, Sokka didn’t mean anything by asking about-- he just lacks tact.”

There’s a faint quirk of his lips at the corners. “I think at this point Momo has more tact than your brother.”

“And you’d be right,” she murmurs in agreement. It’s then she realises how close they’re standing, the way she can make out every line and edge of his face in the watery moonlight. She hasn’t stood this close to him since their brief time in the crystal catacombs together.

The memory of their time together sparks something within her and Katara can’t help but let her eyes drift to his scar, the reddened, raised edges that cover his face from eyebrow to cheekbone.

She expects him to turn his head as he does whenever he catches anyone looking at the scar, but to her surprise, all he does is swallow thickly.

“I should have let you use the magic water when I had the chance huh.”

“Spirit water,” she corrects him, automatic, “To be honest, it’s probably a good thing I didn’t. I ended up using it to save Aang after Azula shot him with lightning.” She fixes him with a look. “She really is a psychopath.”

Zuko shrugs half-heartedly. “She’s still my sister.”

Katara worries her lip, hesitating for a moment before she brings her hand to rest on his cheek, feeling the bumpy, irregular surface of his skin beneath it. He winces at the contact but he still makes no move to turn away from her.

“I don’t know-- you never told me how you got this,” she says softly, her thumb rubbing at the edge where smooth skin gives way to scar tissue.

He seems shocked at that. “You mean you don’t know?” At the shake of her head, his mouth presses into a thin line. “It’s not exactly a great bedtime story.”

“I didn’t expect it to be,” she says, and then adds, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“It’s fine.” He flashes her a wry grin but there’s no humour behind it, just a long lasting sadness. “It was a spectacle in the Fire Nation. The Fire Lord duelling the crown prince in an agni kai.”

Katara stumbles back as the weight of his words hit her like a freight train. The hand she had on his cheek drops, coming to cover her mouth which had fallen open in shock.

“An agni kai? Your father did this to you?” she asks, her voice just barely above a whisper as she tries to even begin to comprehend just what Zuko might have gone through. Suddenly, his actions in the early days start to make sense.

“My uncle invited me to a war meeting. It was my first time there and they were discussing an invasion plan for the Earth Kingdom. A general proposed sacrificing an entire legion of new recruits-- children, barely sixteen-- and everyone just went along with it. They didn’t see anything wrong with that,” he explains, weariness dripping from every word and settling deep in her bones. “I spoke up. Said it was wrong to lead them to their deaths like that. But by speaking against the general, I spoke against my father and he didn’t appreciate that.”

“And he challenged you to an agni kai,” she finishes, horrified.

Zuko clenches his jaw and nods once before ducking his head. “I didn’t want to fight him. I begged him for forgiveness but my father saw it as a sign of weakness. So he burnt me and then banished me from the kingdom. The only way for me to return home was if I redeemed myself, redeemed my honour , by capturing the avatar,” he says, eyes flicking up to look at her from beneath his lashes.

It’s quiet for a long time, his words hanging heavy in the air. Katara feels hot and cold at the same time, the sickening chill of everything that Zuko had to go through leaking down her spin to mix with the bright, all consuming rage in her stomach. She doesn’t think she’s felt this much anger since she came face to face with Yon Rha.

Katara doesn’t realise that she’s shaking until he puts his hands on her shoulders, steadying her and the turbulent water she accidentally agitated in all of her emotion. The hems of their clothes are wet.

“Hey,” he murmurs, soft, stepping closer, into her space, “It’s okay.”

“It’s okay ?” She chokes out a laugh that sounds like fractured glass. “It’s certainly not okay.”

“I’ve made my peace with it,” he says, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into her biceps, “I thought that when he gave me the scar he took away my honour and that I had to find the avatar to regain it. But I don’t believe that anymore. I’m the only one who can get it back and by helping Aang restore order in the world… well, I like to think it’s a step in the right direction.”

She wants to laugh at how easy he says it, at how he truly believes that there’s still more making up that he needs to do before he can consider himself worthy again.

It’s that expression on his face-- half hope, half determination-- that melts the fight right out of her.

“Zuko,” she starts tenderly. Her hand finds its way back up to his cheek, brushing along the sharp line of his cheekbone, brushing over his scar. “You are the most honourable person I know of.”

She’s close enough that she can see the way his eyes widen at her declaration and the way his white-gold skin colours with a dull flush. His cheek is warm under her palm.

“All of this-- I hate that it happened to you, but you’re a good man. An honourable man. And I’m so glad to have you with us,” she tells him.

Out of everything, this is what gets him to look away, the praise she showers upon him, and Katara can’t help but grin.

She leans forward, closing the narrow strip of space between them, and brushes her lips against his cheek, soft, quick, perhaps too quick for both of them though they would never say it.

His smile is fond when she pulls back, the blush still swirling in his cheeks matching the new one that rises to hers when she meets his eyes. There’s a new warmth blazing in them as he looks down at her, and Katara feels herself colour further.

“Thank you, Katara,” he tells her, affection clinging to the simple words. He squeezes her arms once more before letting his hands drop to his sides. It leaves her strangely cold and she watches as he flexes his fingers, not looking at her again.

Tentatively, she reaches over, taking hold of his hand. It’s much larger than hers, pale with long delicate fingers, and surprisingly calloused for someone who’s a bender, and royalty on top of that. She supposes that it comes from years of training with his dao swords.

His eyes are questioning when she looks back up at him, and she offers a small smile in return.

“Come on,” she says, tangling her fingers in his as she leads him away from the shoreline. “Let’s get some rest.”

The weight of unsaid things linger between them as they slowly pick their way back up to the campsite, a quiet, sweet thing that blooms in the still air of the night. Neither of them say a word as they climb into their sleeping bags, but they lie next to each other, eyes roving across faces and drinking in the tiniest of details that are visible in the light of the dying embers.

Zuko drifts to sleep first and she finds herself looking at his scar again as sleep starts to consume her too. A reminder of his painful past, but hopefully a guiding light to shape his future.

As Katara finally succumbs to sleep, her last thought is that she hopes she’s part of that future with him too.

[of-muppets-and-men]

Penumbra

Chapter 7: Daybreak

New update i forgot to post here. Whoops. AO3 link if prefer it instead.

Another hushed morning in the Soul Society.

It was around five’o’clock, a time where most souls were still very much asleep. Seated Officers, Lieutenants, and a handful of Squad Captains as well. An unforeseen benefit of the peaceful era they’d fought for. No real remaining threats outside of common hollows necessitated any sort of urgency. Complacent as it may seem, Head Captain Kyoraku had made it clear this was to be mandated.

After all, the majority of the shinigami reserve forces needn’t bother themselves with the potential return of Yhwach. They wouldn’t stand a chance anyway. 

As much as Yoruichi wished to take full advantage of said mandate, Suì-Fēng  had other ideas. The former captain and current lieutenant of Squad 2 wouldn’t let her Captain slack off for any reason whatsoever. Paperwork, logistics, training. All seemingly without end. And so Yoruichi sat at her desk, stacks upon stacks of paperwork surrounding her and her dutiful lieutenant. Suì-Fēng was almost too happy to be once again serving her beloved Lady Yoruichi.

“UGhhhh… Can we take a break yet? It’s too early for this…” The Captain groaned.

“My Lady, we can’t afford to slack off. What example are we setting for the squad if we do?” Her Lieutenant lecture.

Yoruichi pressed her head against her desk, folded arms over her head. Suì-Fēng chuckled at her Captain’s dismay when it hit. A massive wave of spiritual pressure came out of nowhere, sending a shiver down both their spines. The room quaked, the air reverberated. It was so dense, Suì-Fēng could barely breathe, the pressure on her lungs becoming overwhelming. As she leaned against the desk, struggling to stand, she felt a hand at her waist propping her up. Suì-Fēng’s gaze drew upward to see Yoruichi’s face adorned with shock. She immediately recognized the spiritual energy cascading and pulsing through the air.

“Captain.. Who is that?”

“Katsumi…” was all she whispered in return, “Let’s go, Suì-Fēng.”

The commander of the punishment force bolted out of her office with Suì-Fēng in tow. Flash Stepping as fast she could through the halls of her manor, desperately trying to reach her daughter’s room. The Captain and her lieutenant practically broke the door open to see Katsumi standing on her bed, zanpakuto in hand. The main difference being it was no longer the normal Odachi she handed to Katsumi the night before. It was bigger, much bigger.

It couldn’t be, she thought to herself. Yoruichi pushed herself towards Katsumi, her own weight betraying her with every step. Suì-Fēng stood bereft of strength or words, marvelling at the inherent power of a mere child. Katsumi’s mother shook her awake with whatever willpower remained. The young girl’s eyes peered open, tired and confused, her mother’s distraught golden eyes staring back at her.

“Mom? What’s going on?”

“Shikai…” Yoruichi quietly remarked, now truly seeing the blade Katsumi held.

Now perhaps more confused than before, Katsumi puzzled “What?”

“Don’t worry about anything for now. You were releasing absurd amounts of spirit energy, so I thought something was wrong. I’ll tell you everything after breakfast. But it looks like we’re starting your training sooner than i thought…” Her mother explained.

Katsumi’s fatigue came surging back, causing the girl to fall asleep for another three hours, and Zanpakuto still safely in her clutches. The paperwork Yoruichi had left behind was soon finished in a lightning round between Suì-Fēng and herself. Now with Katsumi achieving Shikai, she had no time to dawdle with her Squad’s trivial matters. Though she still had trouble believing it; Shikai? After barely telling Katsumi what it was? Rukia… Ichigo… your daughter is a prodigy, The Captain repeated in her mind. 

Prodigy. A broad term but true in every sense in Katsumi’s case. She was progressing at an outrageous pace that would make Captain Hitsugaya jealous. If she could achieve Shikai in little more than an afternoon, how long would it take her to learn the other aspects of a Shinigami. 

Zanjutsu? Shunpo? Kido? Hakuda? Shunko? Or perhaps even Bankai? Goosebumps littered Yoruichi’s arms at the thought. 

Not long after Yoruichi managed to finish slogging through her less exciting duties as Captain, Katsumi at last woke up. Albeit still hazy on what had occurred beforehand. But fortunately, both their troubles could be eased by a spot of breakfast. Together, they made their way to the expansive dining room in the center of the manor. There Katsumi gorged her little mouth on Onigiri; Pickled Plum, her favourite. As the child ate her fill, her curiosity spiked yet again, prompting Katsumi to bombard Yoruichi with questions.

“So mom? Are you gonna tell me what ‘Shikai’ is? How did my sword get so big? Can yours do that…” the girl babbled on and on.

“Whoa! Slow down there, kiddo. Before I answer any of those questions, there’s a place I wanna show you first. Kinda like a secret hideout.”

“Secret Hideout?!” Katsumi reiterated with glee.

“Mhmm. Wanna see it?”

“Uhh, Yeah!”

“Then let’s go. Make sure to bring your Zanpakuto with you.” Yoruichi said lovingly.

In a flash, Katsumi cleaned and dried the dishes and stormed down the hallways in search of her blade. Meanwhile her mother stood astonished at her endless enthusiasm. As Yoruichi waited, she began to reminisce on how she had brought Ichigo to the very same place all those years ago. If only you could meet her, Yoruichi lamented on Ichigo’s absence. A part of Yoruichi would never understand Rukia’s decisions; why she never found the heart to confess… but at the very least, Katsumi was happy. But for how much longer?

“Mom! I got it!” Katsumi announced from down the hall.

Yoruichi shook her head, shaking off her darker thoughts and focused on her daughter, “Well, let’s get a move on then.”

The elder soul grabbed a pack she’d asked one of her many attendants to prepare, filled with an abundance of snacks; including a new pocky flavour Kisuke procured for her. The lady of the house made her way to the courtyard, her staff bowing politely as she passed by. To Katsumi’s surprise, her mother knelt down and coaxed her to grab hold.

“C’mon sweetheart. It’ll be faster this way.”

“Umm Okay…” Katsumi replied, doing as she instructed.

“Alright. And a one and a two and…”

Just like that, the pair vanished into thin air. Yoruichi Flash Stepped from rooftop to rooftop with little effort doing so. Katsumi beamed with delight as they soared over the Seireitei; other souls appearing as no more than insignificant flecks. The girl’s vision arbitrarily gawked to and fro at every landmark in sight. Until she felt a tap from her Yoruichi, who then pointed toward Sokyoku hill.

“That’s where we need to be.”

“Why there?”

Yoruichi chuckled and purred, “You’ll see.”

Instead of landing on the hill like she’d anticipated, her mother swerved left toward an inconspicuous little alcove built in the rock face. The young soul hopped off her mother’s shoulders and inspected the quaint little hideout. Although, Katsumi couldn’t hide her disappointment.

“I like it but are you sure it’s big enough?”

Yoruichi smirked at Katsumi’s child-like chagrin, “Follow me.”

Yoruichi then opened a hatch Katsumi hadn’t noticed before, carefully hidden amongst the floor tiles. A light jump and Yoruichi disappeared down the hole. Katsumi rushed over to look down the hatchway, seeing darkness with a vague hint of light at the bottom. With a deep sigh to psyche herself up, Katsumi followed her mother’s example and jumped.

The fall lasted a few seconds despite looking far deeper, or so her young mind conjured. She opened her eyes to see a vast cavern, far bigger than she could’ve ever imagined. Yoruichi ruffled a hand delicately through Katsumi’s hair and she ogled at every inch of her old training grounds.

“Impressed now?” Her mother asked coyly.

Even without uttering a single syllable, Yoruichi could tell she exceeded her daughter’s expectations. 

“Shall we begin?” The Captain questioned once more.

“Yes!” Katsumi replied, nodding so hard it looked like her head would pop off.

“Alright. But first and foremost; here, you are my student and I am your teacher. You listen to me no differently than you do at home, okay?”

Another enthusiastic nod. In a moment’s notice, Yoruichi jumped onto a higher platform, arms crossed like an instructor.

“Good. Now you must know that all Zanpakuto have three states. The first is the unreleased states, which you have now. The next is Shikai, when a Shinigami learns the name of his or her Zanpakuto. And the last state is Bankai, but today you’ll be learning how to summon your Shikai at will.”

“How will I do that?” Katsumi mused.

“By learning your release command. A specific word that will transform your Zanpakuto into the form you saw last night.”

The young soul searched her mind to remember that form. Its shape and design.. What was it? Delving further, it came back to her, slowly but surely. A massive cleaving blade, far larger than it was now, with metal bands lining a hollow center. She could recall it with perfect clarity; Tōgetsu’s true form. But what was the release command?

“How will I know the right word?” She pleaded.

“Unsheathe your blade and find out.” Yoruichi snidely lectured.

A quick pout escaped Katsumi’s lungs before she did as her mother instructed. She removed the sash from her shoulder, drawing the greatsword from its scabbard. It felt like forever since she held it properly, the weightlessness of it catching her off guard as it had the first time. But expectantly, the blade remained silent; Katsumi unable to her Tōgetsu’s voice as she had previously. She held it every which way but alas, it changed nothing.

“Why won’t isn’t it working?!!”  Katsumi shouted in frustration.

While her daughter fiddled with her zanpakuto, she slipped back by her side and calmly placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Easy, Katsumi. This isn’t a thing that can be forced so just breathe and concentrate. Your Zanpakuto will do the rest.”

The girl huffed and puffed but ultimately headed her mother’s advice. She held the blade steady in both hands, closed her eyes and took deep deliberate breaths. 

Tōgetsu, tell me how to release you. 

Silence. 

Tōgetsu, please…

Remember my name and dream… A voice she knew whispered.

“Dream, Tōgetsu.” Katsumi repeated.

She opened her eyes and marvelled alongside her mother at the now transformed blade in her hands. Katsumi erupted with joy; Yoruichi rubbed a hand through her daughter’s hair.

“You did it, Sweetheart.” Yoruichi said lovingly as Katsumi continued to giggle, “Now let’s practice the basics.”

Later that same day

Rukia was alone in the Kuchiki household, preparing for bed. Renji had more business to attend to at the Sixth Division barracks alongside Byakuya, so both of them would be spending the night there. Ichika was sound asleep and had been for the past hour. Rukia had every intention of following suit. At least, she was until a Hell Butterfly came sputtering through her open window. 

Puzzled, she held out a hand for the messenger to land on, unsure of who’s voice to expect. Low and behold, Yoruichi’s voice came through.

Rukia. Meet me at my old hideout beneath Sokyoku Hill. There is something you absolutely must see. Also, make sure you come alone.

Before Rukia could even respond, the butterfly flew off back out the window, leaving Rukia alone with her thoughts. Something I need to see? What on earth did that mean? Far too tired to give it any more thought, Rukia slipped beneath her covers, drifting off into a deep slumber. The morning would come soon enough.

And so it did.

Rukia managed to slip away under the guise of running an errand, leaving Renji and Ichika at home. The acting captain made her way through the semi busy streets, ducking through alleyways to avoid any members of her squad. Eventually, she made it to the alcove Yoruichi had shown her years before. Speaking of her old friend, she stood waiting for her to arrive.

“Yoruichi, what’s this all about? First you send me a message in the middle of the night and now have me sneaking through the Seireitei to get here.”

“You’ll see once we get down there.”

Both women handed down into the depths of the old training area, but mid-descent, Rukia heard unfamiliar grunts and shouts. She focused her ears on the encroaching voice, clarifying the closer she got. And the reiatsu Rukia felt… Katsumi?

It had to be. But it’s strength was unlike anything her daughter had mustered before. Definitely stronger than an officer, perhaps even matching most of the current Captains…

Rukia followed her old friend deeper into the cavern, tracing the origin of her firstborn’s voice. However, the closer she got, the more apparent Katsumi’s increasing might became. Her legs slowly turning to jelly, the weight of her petite frame pressing down upon her. But even though Rukia’s breaths shortened with every step, she felt no fear of any kind. Just happiness. 

Finally, Katsumi came into sight, intently practicing the basic forms of zanjutsu. From mere meters away, Rukia watched on as her eldest’s reiatsu encircled her like a blazing torch. Wind swirled and danced around her aura. Its breathtaking silver hue overpowering the natural light of the surrounding cavern. Tears of joy formed in the corners of Rukia’s violet eyes, Yoruichi standing by her side rubbing her back.

“She looks so much like him…” Rukia gushed, half-heartedly wiping at her eyelids.

A smile and a chuckle escaped Yoruichi’s lips, “That she does… Oi! Katsumi! Look who’s here.”

The girl’s concentration broke, the energy around her dissipating like snow. Katsumi’s eyes locked with Rukia’s, violet mirroring violet. A grin from ear to ear materialized on the girl’s face, full on sprint towards her beloved ‘aunt’. 

“AUNTIE RUKIA!!” She screamed, colliding with a thud.

“Hello, sweetie.” Rukia smiled in return.

The two shared an earnest hug that Yoruichi felt hard pressed to interrupt, “Care to show Auntie Rukia what you’ve been practicing?”

“Practicing?” Rukia said as she felt her daughter’s warmth slip away from her.

Bewildered, the woman watched Katsumi assume a stance with her Zanpakuto. It didn’t resemble any form taught at the academy so what in the world was she up to? Eyes closed, the apprentice brought the blade an inch before her forehead. With her grip slack, Reiatsu surged around her yet again. But unlike previously, it felt more calm, controlled… like the delicate wisps of candlelight. And in a serene voice, Katsumi spoke the name.

“Dream, Tōgetsu!”

Rukia was speechless.

Shikai. Her little one had attained Shikai. 

Her heart danced around in her ribcage, slowly succumbing to her emotions. The baby she had left in Yoruichi’s care for fear of banishment, had bloomed magnificently. Before Rukia even knew it, tears had begun streaming down her cheeks. She made no attempt to wipe them, knowing they’d only be replaced by more. So instead, she smiled and Katsumi smiled back.

“When did this happen?” Rukia finally managed to say.

“Last night. She was sleeping one minute, then releasing spirit pressure the next. Scary to think what she’ll be like a few years from now. You and Ichigo sure made one frightening kid.”

The old friends chuckled as Katsumi eagerly cleaved a boulder in half. 

Katsumi was strong. And still had more room to grow.