The ship creaked like it always did, like it had bones instead of wood and every wave was another reminder that it was tired of carrying all of you.

Three years.

Three whole years trapped on that floating prison with Prince Zuko, his uncle, and the entire 41st division.

And every single one of those years had been miserable.

Zuko was impossible. Always angry, always on edge, like a storm that never quite broke but never went away either. One wrong word and he would snap. One wrong look and suddenly you were the problem.

You fought. Constantly.

Not the kind of arguments that faded after a few sharp words, but the kind that burned. Shouting, insults, fists sometimes. He outranked you, so he punished you. Again and again and again. Demotions piled up until your title meant nothing. Until you meant nothing.

And you hated him for it.

You hated the way he looked at you, like you were something to fix or crush. Hated how he always seemed to be just as furious at you as you were at him, even when neither of you knew why anymore.

It was a stupid hatred. A pointless one.

But it was all you had.

Because you never chose this.

One day you were living your life, and the next you were summoned. No explanation. No choice. Just orders. Get on the ship.

You had spent three years wondering why.

Three years convincing yourself it had something to do with him. That this was just another one of Zuko’s ways to make your life worse.

That he wanted you here.

That he wanted this.

But tonight, everything broke apart.

Because tonight, you found out the truth.

You were supposed to die.

Not just you. All of you. The entire 41st.

Ordered to be sacrificed like you were nothing more than numbers on a map.

And Zuko… had refused.

He had spoken out.

He had taken the punishment meant for that defiance.

That was why he had been burned. Why that scar carved across his face like a permanent reminder of failure was really something else entirely.

Not failure.

Defiance.

Protection.

He had been banished for it.

Sent here for it.

Sent with all of you… because he chose to save you.

The realization sat heavy in your chest, crushing and cold.

All those fights.

All that hatred.

All of it suddenly felt… small.

Meaningless.

And it felt even worse when you saw him.

He climbed out of the small boat slowly, injured, unsteady. For once, he did not look like the angry prince barking orders. He just looked… tired.

Broken, maybe.

The soldiers lined up without being told. Two rows forming a path. And one by one, they bowed.

Not the stiff, forced bows of duty.

Real ones.

Respect.

Gratitude.

Something honest.

Zuko froze in the middle of it.

Like he did not understand what was happening.

Like he had never seen it before.

His eyes shimmered, just slightly. Like he was holding something back, something too big to let out in front of everyone.

And for the first time in all these years, he did not look like the boy you had spent so long hating.

He looked like a prince.

Not because of his title.

But because he had chosen to stand in front of death and say no.

Because he had chosen all of you.

His gaze lifted.

And it found you.

And suddenly, all those years of anger felt hollow.

Because the person standing in front of you was not your enemy.

He was the reason you were still alive.