Metanoia || Avatar: The Last Airbender

𝐯𝐢𝐢𝐢. 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞

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❝ Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that. ❞

Martin Luther King Jr

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THE SKY WAS A BRIGHT SHADE OF BLUE, though there was a slight chill in the air.

"There's a storm coming," Iroh said aloud, gazing up at the sky. "A big one."

Shia glanced at her mentor from the table she was seated behind in seiza, her legs tucked beneath her and a tea kettle cradled in her gloved hands. Considering she was still in her Fire Nation armour and helmet, and how buff the armour made her look, the image was ridiculous.

"You're out of your mind, Uncle!" Zuko retorted, collapsing the spyglass in his hands before gesturing to the blue skies above. "The weather is perfect! There's not a cloud in sight!"

"... A storm is approaching from the north," Iroh continued. Shia nodded to herself, having noticed the presence of an unusual amount of water in the sky from that direction. "I suggest that we alter our course and head south-west."

Zuko scowled deeply and moved forward, clasping his arms behind his back. He looked like he was about to deliver another lecture.

"We know the Avatar is heading northward, so we will do the same."

Iroh, wise as always, continued to urge his nephew. "Prince Zuko, consider the safety of the crew!"

"The safety of the crew doesn't matter—" Zuko began, only to cut himself off when he noticed Lieutenant Ji coming up the stairs onto the deck. Ji shot him a disapproving look, making it clear that he'd heard what Zuko had said.

Zuko seemed somewhat intimidated by the older man, before regaining his usual boldness and taking a few short strides forward to glare at him face-to-face. "Finding the Avatar is more important than the individual's safety."

Zuko then turned tail and stormed off to the control room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Sighing internally, Shia poured a second cup of tea before rising and offering it to the Lieutenant, as if the herbal blend was supposed to resolve what had just occurred.

"He doesn't mean that," Iroh told the man, nodding towards Shia appreciatively, "he's just worked up."

Ji took the ceramic cup from Shia, if only out of respect, and sipped it quietly.

The ship's soldiers had a good impression of Shia, even if she wasn't aware of it. Despite being silent and unseen, she'd built a strong rapport with her crewmates. His actions alone built the image of a solid, reliable person.

"Thank you," Ji told her, though Shia could sense that his mind was elsewhere.

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Shia peered up at the storm clouds gathering above the ship, breathing in the cool air, wishing that she could remove her helmet. Ji and some of the other men aboard the ship were muttering to themselves about Zuko's words from earlier whilst Iroh tried to soothe their nerves.

"Huh," Ji began when Zuko returned to the deck, "looks like your Uncle was right about the storm after all!"

"It was a lucky guess," Iroh lied. He was attempting to diffuse the situation, but both of the other men acted as though he hadn't spoken at all.

"Lieutenant!" Shia watched with wide eyes as Zuko turned around with one of his award-winning scowls, stomping over to Ji until they were chest-to-chest. "You better learn some respect, or I will teach it to you."