Zuko was back in his study, trying to organize his sinkhole of a desk. Every two or three years, he began this ambitious project, and a day or two afterwards, gave up when he found something from the first year of his reign.

The door opened and Kouji walked in, looking distinctly unhappy.

The Firelord didn’t see him right away, being seated on the floor under his desk, going through one of the drawers.

“Zuko.”

He jumped a bit, swore when his head hit his desk, and dragged himself out and up to his feet. “…What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

Kouji just stared at him with unreadable silver eyes, leaning against the closed door.

“Kouji, what’s wrong?” he asked again, worried. Did something happen to one of my children? Or Katara?

“What possessed you to keep this from us!?” the young man exploded.

There were only a very few things he could be referring to. “….So you know.” He sank back into his chair.

“Yes.  And so does your son.”

“Oh, hell…”

“He’s the one who told me.”

“Oh, hell.”

“Why did you hide it!?”

“I didn’t want anyone to panic. Or worry. Or, in general, be upset.”

“Well, you blew it.”

“Yes, I can see that now.”

“Katara is going to kill you.”

“I know.” Zuko sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. “I have years, Kouji. I’m going to make it through the next ten. There wasn’t any need to say anything yet.”

“I disagree.”

“You’ve made that clear.”

“Good.”

“This isn’t a big deal yet, Kouji. And maybe you’re right, and I should’ve told people anyway. But still.”

“How is it not a big deal!?”

“Like I said. I am going to live through the next ten years.” If he said it often enough, he’d prove Leilani’s estimate wrong and do it.

Kouji was silent for a long moment, and then nodded.

“I didn’t want this to start… affecting things. The way I deal with people, and the way people deal with me. Not until it had to.”

“You stubborn, thoughtless jackass,” Kouji said roughly, stepping away from the door.  Before the Firelord could reply, the now-taller young man was hugging him.  He could feel his friend trembling.  Zuko, startled, did nothing for a few seconds, then hugged him back, saying nothing. What could I say?

After a moment, Kouji withdrew.  “You need to talk to Katara,” he said, wiping his arm over his eyes quickly.

“I know,” the older man replied.

“Will you?”

“Once I put my drawer back together.”

“Promise?”

Zuko nodded. “I promise.”

“Okay.”

“I’m sorry about… all this,” the Firelord said, quietly, after a moment.

“Don’t worry about it,” Kouji replied.  “I’m still here.”

He nodded, with a faint smile. “Yeah.”

“And I won’t leave.”

“All right. Thank you.”

Kouji managed a smile.  After a moment, Zuko lowered himself back onto the floor to finish going through that drawer.  The younger man watched him for awhile, then turned and went back to his own work.

 

*                       *                       *

After spending a few hours with her stepson, talking through everything they’d learned that afternoon, and doing their level best to comfort one another, Katara went looking for Leilani.

She was just exiting the infirmary, most likely in search of dinner.  Or Minami.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” It was clear from the Firelady’s tone and expression that she knew, and that was what the conversation would be about.

“…yes, my lady,” Leilani said politely.

Katara then led her to a small, out-of-the-way room and shut the door.

The island woman took a deep breath.  “What do you want to know?”

“First, h-how long?”

“It really depends,” Leilani replied.  “In the worst case, less than a year.  This is extremely unlikely, especially as he is for once listening to me.  In the best… fifteen.  Also unlikely.”

“Is — is he going to make it through the next ten years? Until the girls are of age?”

“He insists that he will,” Leilani said softly.  “I’ve advised him to appoint a regent regardless.”

“So you don’t think it’s likely…”

“He’s just stubborn enough to do it.  But if he’s going to make it, he’d need to turn a lot more over to the hands of others.”

She nodded. “What… what can I expect, in the next few years?”

“I honestly don’t know,” the older waterbender told her.  “I’ve… never seen anything like this.”

“What can I do to help him, when I’m done killing him for keeping this a secret?”

“He’ll need plenty of rest,” Leilani replied.  “Try to encourage him to keep normal hours.  By which I mean the hours normal people keep.”

She nodded. “I’ll do that.”

“I’ll do everything I can for him,” Leilani promised.

“So will I.”

“…I’m sorry for not telling you,” the older woman whispered.

“It’s all right,” Katara said. Even though it really wasn’t.

“He asked me not to.”

“I’m sure.”

Leilani fell quiet and bowed her head.

“I should go talk to him now, I suppose.”

She nodded.

Katara rose and left the room without another word.

 

*                       *                       *

 

That evening found Kouji in a bar outside the palace, steadily working towards getting drunk for the first time in his twenty-four years.  He hadn’t even tasted alcohol since the day he had delivered Azula’s execution warrant; this, combined with the fact that he hadn’t eaten much that day, led to a low tolerance for alcohol in general.

He was completely wasted after three drinks.

Which was where Lady Mai found him. While she kept a plentiful store of liquor in her house, she maintained that drinking alone was a sad, sorry sort of thing to do, so made a habit of occasionally going to a bar to get drunk and maybe flirt a little with her peers.

Sometimes she took them home.

“…Kouji? I didn’t know you drank.”

“Gotta shtart shometime!” he said cheerfully, wheeling around to face her and almost falling out of his seat as he tried to rescue his fourth drink.

“…You are very drunk.”

“Yep!”

“…Why?” She sat down next to him and signalled the bartender, who promptly brought her her favourite drink. “Did something happen?”

The younger noble hesitated, then tilted his head towards the bar.  It was clearly something he couldn’t talk about in a public venue.

“…I’ve got liquor at my place,” she offered.

He considered this, then nodded.  “Hokay.”

Mai finished her drink as quickly as possible, left money on the bar, then helped Kouji over to her house. “What do you like?”

“…I dunno,” he said after a bit.  “Dun really drink much.  Or at all.  Thish’sh my shecond time…”

“When was the first time?” she asked.

He paused, tried to count, and ran out of fingers.  “…um… I wash eleven?”

“Why?”

He blushed a vivid shade of red that was only a few shades lighter than the nation’s flag.  “Um.  Shaw shomething shomewhat mind-breaking.”

“…Probably nothing I really want to know about. What kind of juice do you like? I’ll spike it for you.”

“I like pomengranates…”

“…So does Zuko. You know, you were worried all those years ago about him skipping meals, all you had to do was promise him pomegranates at the end.” She poured the young lord a glass of juice, then spiked it liberally and passed it to him.

He drained half of it in one swig, apparently determined to spend the next day in utter misery.  “Didn’t know that.”

After pouring her own drink, Mai settled down next to him. “So, why the binge now?”

He hesitated.  “…You hafta promish not to tell anyone,” he said.

“I promise.”

Another pause, then he told her everything he’d learned that day about the Firelord’s declining health.

She went a few shades paler, but, rather mercifully, didn’t utter shocked or pained denials or start crying. Instead, she said, “Do you know what we need?”

He shook his head and almost fell out of his chair.

She steadied him, then stood up, walked over to her liquor cabinet, and unlocked it, retrieving several bottles and setting them neatly in a row down the table. “We need drinks. We need a lot of drinks.”

“I’m for that!”

And so, the two nobles together got very drunk, and probably shared more secrets and intimate stories and woes than either would dream of telling anyone sober. At some point, about two hours after she brought him there, Mai gave Kouji an odd, calculating look — and leaned in to kiss him.

The younger man closed his eyes…

…and slithered to the floor, out cold.

Mai sighed, stood up, wobbled, a bit, and rang for a servant. When he came, she instructed him to put the liquor away and deposit her guest in a spare bedroom. She then staggered off to her own bed to sleep it off.

 

Kouji woke the next day when the sun somehow developed arms, hands, and weapons, then stabbed him in the eyes with them.  Groaning, he groped around on the bed until he located a pillow, then pulled it over his head.

At around that moment, someone tapped lightly on his door.

He groaned louder, then said, “Come in.”  Even the sound of his voice was too loud.

The same servant from last night opened the door. He had a cup of something steaming. “This will help with the morning after,” he said, quietly. “My lady also asked me to assure you that nothing inappropriate happened last night. She seemed rather disappointed.”

Kouji blinked stupidly at him, then the fog in his brain cleared up somewhat.  Sorting through his recent memories was not an easy task — several bits seemed to be missing — but then he came to the last one, of Mai leaning in, and he predictably grew several shades darker.  “Oh.  Um.  Oh.”

The man smiled slightly, and handed him the cup. “Is there anything else, sir?”

He shook his head and promptly regretted it.  “No.  Ow.  Uh, no.”

The man bowed, and let himself out of the room.

Kouji nursed the tea and cursed the sun for stabbing him in the eyes with light.

When he finally left the room, he found Mai sitting in the parlour they’d gotten drunk in, somewhat bleary-eyed, curled up on one end of a couch. “You can stay here as long as you want, I’m not doing anything important today.”

My lady also asked me to assure you that nothing inappropriate happened last night. She seemed rather disappointed.

Kouji flushed.  “Th-thank you, Lady Mai,” he said.

She shrugged, and closed her eyes, deciding to return to ignoring him, until her hangover-induced nausea went away.

He didn’t remain for very long after; as soon as the headache subsided enough so that it didn’t feel like the sun was stabbing him in the eyes, he again thanked Mai for her hospitality and made his way back to the palace.

By this time, it was early afternoon, and, judging by the palace gossip, Zuko and Katara had had quite the argument the night before. And were not quite speaking to one another.

Kouji weighed his options and decided that actively avoiding Katara would be the best one.  If she knew he’d gone out and got drunk the night before, no matter the reason, she wouldn’t be happy with him.

By the time he’d heard enough gossip to make that decision, Zuko was heading out of the last of the meetings that had been scheduled for that morning.  Still deep in thought, Kouji almost ran into him.

“Afternoon, Kouji,” Zuko said, smiling faintly and more than a little wryly. He wasn’t stupid, and had gotten drunk a few times himself — he could tell the younger man was still a bit hungover. “Interesting night last night?”

Kouji coughed, and winced.  “Uh.  Yeah.  A bit.”  His ears turned pink.

“How much did you have?”

“Uh… I kinda lost track.  Six at the bar?  … no, four.”

“The first time I got drunk, I was fourteen,” the older man said, matter-of-factly.

“Beat me by ten years,” Kouji commented.

“Uncle was… not happy with how I decided to spend that birthday. And, to be honest, I can’t remember anything after the third drink.”

“I remember… bits and pieces?”

Like Mai leaning in… She seemed rather disappointed…  Kouji’s flush became darker.

“…Is this something I want to know?” Zuko asked, pausing on the way to his study.

“N-nothing happened,” Kouji hastened to assure him.  “I, um… passed out before anything could.”

“Right.” He nodded, and resumed limping off towards his study. “Plan on doing it again?”

“I feel like a badgermole burrowed inside my brain and then died there.  Never.”

“All right, then.” By this time, they’d reached the study, and Zuko settled down into his chair, trying not to show how relieved he was to get there.

Kouji hesitated.  “Um.  To forestall any rumours… I was with Lady Mai last night.”

The Firelord sighed. So now she knows, too. There must be something flawed in my administration. We’re incapable of keeping secrets. “I see.”

“She said that she wouldn’t tell, and I’m sorry, I just…”  He looked at the ground.

“It’s all right.” Change the subject. “What are your plans for the rest of the day?”

“Um.  I… uh…”  He hesitated.  “I don’t know.”

Zuko nodded, then shuffled through the papers on his desk, looking for his schedule.

“I… guess I’ll try to get the stuff on my lands in order for when Ichiro turns up.”

“All right.”

Kouji hesitated again.  “…what did Katara say?”

It was a moment before the older man answered. “She didn’t say much. Mostly, she yelled.”

“…ah.”

“Yeah.”

“…I should… get back to work…”

“All right.”

“I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah.”

Kouji bowed, winced, and left.