Violent Delights, ATLA

chapter twenty seven, the knife wound

27
THE KNIFE WOUND

A MARIGOLD-ROSE AURORAL OF dawn erupted across the horizons of the earth, glaring through window panes. The decadent smell of jook wafted through the air from Iroh's cooking, San eating her breakfast. Footsteps sounded from the stairs and she looked up to see Zuko awake and well, his aura oddly cheery and content (not to make herself sound like Ty Lee- something about him just seemed off in a good way).

"What's that?" He asked, walking up to Iroh and inhaling the scent of the thin porridge.

"It's jook. I don't think you'll like it."

In spite of his words, Zuko smiled and held up a bowl. "Actually, it smells delicious. I'd love a bowl."

"Who are you and what have you done to Zuko?" San commented jokingly.

To her surprise, he laughed heartily and sat opposite of her. "It's a new day, San. New apartment, new furniture, and today's the grand opening of Uncle's new tea shop. Things are looking up."

Iroh beamed widely as San uttered a small huh of pleasant surprise by his jolly mood. She took another spoonful of her porridge and caught Zuko staring at her out of the corner of her eye. "What?"

"You've got jook on there."

"Here?" She rubbed on the wrong side of her cheek.

"No, here." He said, leaning in and wiping it away with tissue for her.

San, utterly bewildered by his behaviour, found herself unable to say anything. Zuko, unaware of her confusion, just smiled and walked away, leaving to change. After a moment of silence, San whipped her head around to Iroh and asked, "Did you spike the jasmine tea you made him drink when he was sick?"

"What? No! I'd never."

The tea shop became bustling with rich people as soon as they declared they were open. San figured Iroh should hire some more waiters and waitresses to handle the crowd some day and she could hire a sous chef; an extra pair of hands in the kitchen would help immensely. Baby steps, however, baby steps.

"Hey, what are you thinking about?" She asked Zuko, who made a temporary stop in the kitchen to retrieve more bowls of soup for the customers.

"How beautiful you look." He admitted with a rising soft smile.

Sweet-sounding laughter bounced off the kitchen walls, "You're awfully cheesy this morning."

"Does it not suit me?"

"If I'm being honest, not at all." Candour smile kept, a slight shake of her head. "I mean, I love seeing you happy, Zuko, but I mean truly happy. You can be honest with your feelings to me, you know."

"I know." He said softly. "And right now, I truly am happy. For uncle and for you."

San reciprocated the smile but before she could say anything else, Iroh urged for Zuko to continue waitering and help, forcing the prince to leave and obey his uncle. She resumed adding ingredients to her soup.

Considering they were understaffed, she had to serve a couple of dishes herself. Upon waitressing, some wary feeling tugged at the bottom of her heart. She looked up and noticed the bushes outside rustling. Blink. There was a man dressed in jade green, staring at her strangely. Blink. He was gone. The majority of her mind dismissed it as a customer but the tiny, restless voice in the back of her mind cooed Dai Li agent.

San shook her head. She was only overthinking because of what happened recently and was becoming paranoid. No point dwelling about it.

"Hi! I'd like a table for two, please."