#antimaiko

And despite his desire to hold onto what was left of his dignity and modesty, he’s glad for the interruption.

“At least I'll already be wearing red,” he tries.

“Not funny,” she says, at his side and gingerly beginning to unwrap the bandages around his chest. “You might collapse before we even know there’s something wrong."

“Better than wearing white,” he grimaces, only half from the pain.

He can tell she doesn't get the joke. “White is for funerals,” he says, and she swallows, wide-eyed, then goes back to her work, this time yanking a strip of bandage a little too hard.

It wasn't that good of a joke.

“Sit down,” she instructs, indicating the bed, and he does, while she carefully peels back the wrappings around the wound. “Not much bleeding. That’s good.”

The wound stings when it’s exposed to the open air, and he lets out a gasp. She puts a water-wreathed hand to his chest and the pain begins to fade, her other hand on his back. “Does that feel better?”

“A lot better,” he says as tension he didn't know he was holding seems to melt away. It’s not just the pain that feels better. Her touch makes him feel grounded, calming his fluttering nerves.

“I wish we could postpone the coronation,” she says, frowning.

‘No,” he says, lifting up an arm so she can wrap the fresh bandages. “It can’t wait any longer. The war needs to officially end. Today. I’m alright, Katara.”

And to prove his point, he stands after she’s done with the new bandages, picking up the robe that he’d discarded earlier. She gets up, too, and helps him into it. He doesn’t protest. She adjusts the collar, her fingers brushing his skin.

There are way too many parts to his outfit, and Katara is not familiar with Fire Nation regalia. He talks her through how to undo the clasps of the enormous shoulder piece, then guides her through helping him tie the complicated topknot. It feels good to have her fingers running through his hair, deft, and impossibly gentle. With fingers still weak and shaky, he takes her hands, small and soft and warm in his, and shows her the motions.

According to custom, she shouldn’t be touching his hair. But the life debt he owes her should be more than enough to buck tradition. Besides, today would be the beginning of a new era, a better one.

There’s the sound of footsteps and voices in the antechamber, and Katara quickly finishes tying the knot, her hands falling to her sides. Zuko looks up.

“You stupid, don’t you know I’m his girlfriend - !”

“Mai!”

Zuko stands up abruptly. Katara does at the same time, and makes a move to go, but Zuko grabs her hand behind his back, and she stops.

Mai looks him up and down, taking in his half-dressed state, the bandages on his chest. Then her eyes land on Katara. “Oh,” she says. “So this is what the new firelord is doing while I’m rotting in prison.”

Her eyes fall back on Zuko, as if expecting him to say something, and he knows he needs to say something, but whatever he’d said has always been the wrong thing, with Mai.

Why had it always been like that, with the people he loved? It shouldn't be this hard, should it?

He’d forgotten how hard it was, these past few days. Uncle had made it seem easy, loving him. And his new friends, for whom it seemed to come naturally. Katara, who loved so easily that it didn't matter that he was like this.

“Well?” She demands. To Katara she says “you can go now,” and waves her hand dismissively.

But Katara’s hand doesn't let go, squeezes his, as if it’s a question. The touch makes him realize how tense he is, and her hand feels like an anchor, preventing him from floating away. His fingers curl around hers unconsciously, and he realizes he doesn't want to let go. She squeezes back in response. It’s okay, I’ve got you.

“I need to spend some more time checking his wound before the coronation,” she says.

Mai turns to her, lifting her chin so that she can look down on Katara, appraisingly. “The firelord needs to spend some time with his girlfriend. Alone.”

“I want her to stay,” Zuko says, and they both turn to him.

Mai narrows her eyes. “Then I’m gone, Zuko.”