[It’s all Mai’s fault. It was never going to work out between them at the end of the day, romantically, but Zuko will love her until the day he dies, and that love is how he gets bullied into putting it on in the first place. It’s a little square of deep red lace and ribbon that weighs next to nothing. Mai presses it into his hands with a smirk and tells him to put it on. It matches her black one, she says. Hurry up. Zuko loves this woman with every drop of blood in his body. He takes the...whatever it is and hurries up. He changes in her closet—there’s no mirror in there, but Zuko doesn’t need it. He knows what this is.] Or, Zuko explores some options.

[“Okay, but listen,” Zuko says. “I’m listening.” “Did you forget about the capitalist scam happening tomorrow?” He asks. “You know, patron saint of shitty teddy bears and pretending that a few flowers makes up for being emotionally constipated the rest of the year?” Zuko shrugs. “Not like I lied.” “Sounds kind of like you lied.” “He said couple,” Zuko points out, “We are a couple. A couple of people who want a discount.”] Or, Zuko and Sokka work the system.