You find yourself at the Jasmine Dragon teashop, in the city of Ba Sing Se. There was tea-loving old man working there, as well as his nephew, who you been having your eyes on. You kept staring at him. His skin was smooth and ashen, his irises glistening golden, choppy and long bangs hanging pass his forehead, temples and ears, the rest of his coal hair extending to just an inch above his shoulders. His face was asymmetrical, appearing as two halves, as one side was his radiant and flawless skin, to the left, the burn scar that melted his flesh. His uncle had called him “Zuko”. So that’s what his name was. Zuko caught you looking and he approached, face stoic.

“are you going to order something?