Disclaimer: The Last Airbender and all its intellectual property does not belong to me. This is just for pure enthusiasm for the fandom and my love for these two characters.

AN: This is set in the Avatar Universe around the 1950s. It is not canon compliant, but there is bending. Imagine that in this universe there is a civil rights movement going on, since there are race and class tensions within all the nations. The story will deal with how the characters of Avatar deal with segregation and discrimination. Will be based off the race tension in America, during the Civil Rights Movement era, but in this case loyalist Fire Nation people discriminate towards foreigners, especially the Water Tribe since they thought them to be barbaric. The people of the Earth Kingdom face discrimination as well.

I clarify that this prejudice and discrimination seems to more prevalent from those of the Fire Nation, but if you continue to read and see how each character perceives events, it is clear that every ethnicity in this universe can carry some sort of bigotry for the other races. Not everyone is perfect and not everyone can immediately have empathy and put themselves in the shoes of others.

Enjoy!

Katara moved as quickly as her legs could take her down the crowded midtown street, swerving any possible collisions with the numerous people who possessed the same goal to arriving to promptly to work. Frantically running, with her skirt pulled up, her ankle boots clacking against the cobblestone, she remembered how for every minute she was late, her unmerciful boss was definitely docking her pay. That morning she had missed the public bus, which was her sole mode of transportation. This had caused her to wait another twenty minutes for the next one, which still stopped five blocks away from her workplace. Please La, don't let Jinpao fire me, she begged under her breath, I need this job.

Minutes later, Katara arrived at Jinapao's Teahouse; her miserable place of employment for the past two years. She got hired once her father and brother moved to the Fire Nation for a new carpentry job. The big move from the Southern Water Tribe to the Fire Nation was tough, but it was worth it due to modest pay her father and brother got compared to the lack of jobs back home. Since then Katara's waitressing job had served to supplement the meager paycheck her father earned by working his fingers to the bone as a carpenter alongside his son Sokka.

Katara worked like a dog; putting up with all sorts of customers, and running around at her boss' every whim, but she was still grateful. It was 1950s, and as what people considered a colored woman without a particular skill, Katara was mindful that her options for employment were scarce. Though she was the first in her family to graduate high school and to be gifted as a waterbender, Katara had to choose between housekeeping or waitressing, and sometimes she regretted choosing the latter.

The bells atop of the front door to the teahouse chimed at Katara's entrance, and immediately she found her scrawny employer, Jinpao, behind the counter and she cringed as she saw how cross he was. She hardly had both feet through the door, before her toothpick of a boss rushed at her as quickly as he could.

"You're thirty—" he checked his watch with a nod, "thirty-four minutes late."

"I'm so sorry, sir. I—"

"What's your excuse this time, huh?" he asked placing a hand on his hip, tapping his foot impatiently. "Was your brother sick again? Or did you have to run out and get your daddy's back medicine? Or maybe you have a new one I haven't heard. Please, entertain me!"

"I missed the bus," Katara admitted quietly, averting her gaze as she tucked a loose curl behind her ear. She wished she had a better justification, but she thought it best to say as little as possible to not irk him further.

Jinpao's eyes narrowed at the attractive girl before him, shaking his head. "You got one more time to be late this month, and then you're fired. You hear? I don't even know why I put up with this! It's the damn customers, they like you too much."

Katara waited for the rest of the rant…there was always more. Jinpao could be pleasant enough if he was in a good mood, but she never seemed to please him that far. He was always hypercritical of her, and she was constantly walking on thin ice. The only reason she even had that job was because her father had saved Jinpao a ton of money in repairs for his café's furniture, and she was constantly reminded of it when he'd snap at her for any little thing.

"Just get out of my sight and get cracking," Jinpao finished with a sigh.

"I apologize again, sir."

"Yeah, whatever," he, sounding defeated.

Katara couldn't help but smirk as she made her way to grab her apron.

"Zuko!" Chang cupped his hands around his mouth to project his voice against the bustling campus courtyard, running to catch up with his friend.

Zuko stopped midstride, to find one of his friends jogging across the green courtyard with a wave. "Hey, Chang," Zuko tried not to appear too disgusted at how out of breath Chang was from the short jog.

"Jian, Zhu, and I are going to the teahouse," Chang panted. "Wanna join?"

Zuko looked at his best friend Aang who was at his side, but appeared to be disinterested in the conversation, in his own world. Zuko turned back to Chang, who too ignored Aang. "You up to it, Aang?"

Aang scratched his head covered in airbender tattoos, not having to consider the offer long before realizing he would rather pass. Zuko was his friend and all, but being around a group of three others who were exactly like him but worse…would drive a sane person over the edge. They were all wealthy, entitled, and arrogant, but Zuko much less than the others, and Aang had learned to live with and appreciate his snobbish quirks. But to the others, he was a borderline freak; his tall and lanky stature, tattoos and baldness only furthering their opinions that he was socially awkward, too much of a "hippie" and a "drag".

"Aang!" Zuko demanded, impatient as usual. "It isn't a life or death decision; do you want to go, or not?"

"Sure, I don't have anything better to do."

"Alright, we're going to drive. How are y'all getting there?"

"I think we'll just walk," Zuko answered on Aang's behalf.

"Jian's uncle owns this teahouse where we could eat and drink for free. You know the one?"

Zuko did not "do" teahouses, in fact he detested them. They were only for poor people who were too lazy to make their own goddamn tea, and too down and out to go somewhere better. He was not much of a tea drinker unlike his tea fanatic uncle, Iroh. As the son of the infamous real estate mogul Ozai, president of "Sozin Real Estate", the largest real estate company in the country, Zuko's dining opportunities were hardly limited. His family, consisting of him, his father, and his sister, Azula, went out to eat at the finest restaurants money could buy. So, he had no clue where this pitiful teahouse was.

"I know where it is," Aang said raising his hand.

"We'll see you there, Zuko." Chang quickly turned around, exiting as quickly as he came.

"Remind me again, why do you hang out with those creeps?"

"Funny, the say the same about you." Zuko said, pulling a cigarette from his pocket. "Anyway, they're decent guys."

"No, they're not," Aang snorted.

"You just don't know them like I do."

"I like everyone, but those guys…I just have pity that you do," Aang quipped.

"Have you been to this place, before?" Zuko asked, taking in a long drag.

"Yeah, it's pretty close. Jian's uncle is the owner, and their tea and service is pretty good."

"Well," Zuko flicked some ashes in the wind, "I'll be the judge of that."

Katara wiped her hands on her apron as she placed another order for the kitchen. She fanned her face as she stepped away from the heat which the stoves emitted from the boiling of teas.

"Rough day back there, Peng?" Katara asked one of the cooks with a smile.

"Sure is. Good day for tips, though," he correctly remarked.

Katara nodded, fixing her disheveled hair yet again; today her head of dark wavy hair refused to cooperate, and she knew how testy Jinpao could become when his waitresses looked less than perfect. Quickly, she picked up the tray of drinks she had prepared, looking across the room at the table of five college boys, most of the Fire Nation, who had walked in with a booming voices and loud laughs about five minutes ago. How she envied them and their opportunity.

Katara considered herself to be a decent enough person, and knew that being envious was unbecoming…but she couldn't help it. She could tell by their clothes and attitude that they were wallowing in gold, and by the flippant way they spoke to them, they weren't very nice either. Their sense of entitlement was palpable, and it made her empty stomach churn.

One of them stood from his seat in the booth, whistling at her like a hound from across the room demanding drinks for the group.

Katara took a deep breath, collecting herself before she presented herself to them yet again. Jinpao had only hired Katara because her father saved him a lot of money whilst working on his furniture, and she was constantly reminded of it when he'd snap at her for any little thing.

Her customers were rude, allowed to get away with treating her without an ounce of respect. Her boss hardly tolerated her, and the few graces she received from him were because he owed her father a favor. Katara looked down at her dark skin, and wondered if it really was a curse after all. She quickly pushed the ugly notion out of her aching head.

Despite other's constant efforts to belittle her, Katara knew that she contained a great amount of potential. Her compassionate and gentle heart was her best quality, but also her fatal flaw. She was always told her tinkling laugh and radiant smile brightened any room, and she was loyal until the end. Her second-class citizenship and foreigner status did little to dampen her spirits, even on the days when her feet ached after a long day, and she was forced to stand on the bus when there were plenty of the seats in the front. Or those occasions where she would rather wait in the colored section of the train with a full bladder, than step inside the terribly neglected colored public restrooms.

"It took you long enough," the shortest of the five scoffed, reaching over to literally pick his cup of tea off the tray.

"I apologize. It's busy."

"Doesn't look too busy to me," another chimed in.

Katara swallowed her retort, as she gave the rest of the table their beverages.

"Two spiced teas, one ginseng, and a lychee tea," she finished, handing the last two drinks to Zuko and Aang respectively.

Zhu looked down at his tea, and looked back at Katara, rolling his eyes. "You got my order wrong. I ordered green tea."

Katara looked down at her notepad, where she had written otherwise, and she knew what he had ordered. "You told me spiced tea."

"Well, look," Zhu said sliding the drink away from there. "I changed my mind then, didn't I? Be a doll, and go fetch me another."

Katara's head tilted to the side in awe. She contemplated whether it would be beneficial to argue, but she decided against it. She wasn't about to lose her job over some brat who liked to see her run around. She plastered on the best fake smile she could muster, and donned her 'the-customer-is-always-right' tone. "I apologize for the mix up sir, I'd be glad to get you another."

Katara reached over towards Zhu's drink with a sigh, only to misconstrue and have her right elbow knock over another drink, the hot liquid spilling onto the table as it pooled directly into Zuko's nearby lap.

"What the hell! Are you slow, or something?" he yelled at her, jumping out of the booth with a start, his expensive pants sported a large wet stain.

Katara covered her mouth, as the rest of the table snickered except for the bald one who looked as mortified as she. "I'm so sorry!" she croaked, turning the flipped cup upright.

Zuko froze, his eyes narrowing to slits as he proceeded to tell her off. "Yeah, you better be sorry," he snarled. He looked at the distinctly Water Tribe girl whose hair was out of place and her skin glistened with sweat, while revulsion twisted in his gut. He looked down at his stained pants and the searing pain between his legs, and the disgust increased tenfold.

"It was an accident, I didn't—" The new busboy moved past Katara in a hurry, leaning over the table with a wet rag to wipe down the mess, eyeing the snickering occupants in disdain.

"What's happened?" Jinpao asked, his face as red as ever as he glared at Katara. He was surprised to see his nephew Jian at the table, accompanied by a group of his friends.

Katara opened her mouth to voice a reply which she knew would be futile, but the rude and vocal boy with dark hair who felt violated had beat her to it.

"Can you get us a new waitress? Maybe someone who doesn't have molasses in her britches, and who's competent enough to get an order right," Zuko glared at Katara who to his surprised, returned the favor.

Jinpao watched as the busboy departed after cleaning the table, and Katara stood doing her best to avoid his accusing gaze. Shaking his head, he said, "Of course young man, we do apologize…right Katara?"

She knew that she had already apologized to the group of imps, but she reminded herself of how much she needed this job for the millionth time that terrible night.

"Again, I apologize," she lied, swallowing the pride that was creeping up her throat, threatening to give the spoiled man a piece of her mind.

Zuko said nothing as he brushed past the owner and the waitress, trudging to the bathroom.

Katara leaned over to pick her tray off the table, making a straight beeline to the back of the restaurant where the poorly lit and dingy employee changing rooms were. She sat on one of the benches which were between the row of storage, and buried her face in her hands.

She wasn't one for crying often, but she was at her breaking point. Katara felt like her life was at a standstill…at only nineteen. Stuck in a dead-end job, with a dim future…who was she to tell that group of boys off any way? In everyone else's eyes, she was a nobody.

She heard footsteps walking into the room, and she did her best to wipe her eyes. The new busboy whose name was unknown to her, came into view in the doorway, and Katara suddenly felt embarrassed for falling apart in front of a stranger.

He stood a moment at the doorway, deciding whether he wanted to come in.

"Sorry, if I'm in your way," Katara said shakily, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Uh, no, no," he said, walking over. "Here," he said, digging into his left pocket and handing her a handkerchief.

Katara gave him a small smile, holding up the embroidered handkerchief. "Thanks, that's very nice of you."

The busboy stood there awkwardly, putting his hands in his pockets as he watched the pretty girl properly wiper her eyes.

"Are you new?" Katara asked after a sniffle, trying to normalize the uncomfortable situation.

"Yeah, first day," he said running a hand through his long dark hair with half of it tied up in a top knot, and framed his calm green eyes.

"My name is Katara."

"I'm Haru."

Pause. "It was very kind of you to bring me this," she said, holding up the small handkerchief. "Oh, and for cleaning up the table…you didn't have to."

"Cleaning tables is my job," he said, with a smile which made him appear to be trustworthy and kind. Haru took a seat next to Katara on the bench. "I'm sorry for how they treated you, but you got to let stuff like that out of your other ear. I'm sure it wasn't personal—though that doesn't make it hurt any less."

"How much of it did you see?"

"Most of it."

Katara shrugged, laughing quietly. "I don't even know why I'm crying. I should be used to this stuff by now; I get it all the time." She took a moment to take a deep breath. "I'm sure you do too."

Haru nodded in understanding. "I do, but I also know you never get used to being hated."

Katara looked at him, for he had stolen the words from her mouth.

"That's exactly it," she said, looking him in the eye.

Moments passed by before Katara felt awkward, and looked away.

"Well, thank you, Haru," she said standing quickly. "I'll wash this," she said, holding up the handkerchief. Giving him one last smile, Katara hustled out of the room.

Katara trudged through the front door of her small single-story, three-bedroom home at around 9 o'clock, her light purse feeling like a tonne against her aching shoulders. One light in the hallway was left on for her, so she knew Sokka and her father must be in bed already. Picking up her shoes, she dragged her feet all the way to her small room on the far side of the house.

"Oh, hey Dad. I thought you were sleeping," Katara said tiredly as her father stepped out of his room.

"Katara sweetheart, you're back late. How was work?" Hakoda asked drowsily, rubbing the sleep from his red eyes.

"Not too good; bad customers and bad tips."

Hakoda stepped into the small hallway, his brows furrowed in frustration. His daughter was so young, but worked as hard as he did. She was used to it though; Katara had been the 'woman' of the house since she was six.

"Want to talk about it?"

"No, Dad," Katara said, sighing. She gave her father a quick kiss on the cheek, his stubble tickling her face. "I think I'm just going to bed, before I fall asleep right here."

"Okay," Hakoda responded sadly. "Get some sleep, okay?"

"'Night, Dad." Katara quickly went to her room, not looking back.

Slowly, Hakoda shut his door, his gaze fixating on one of the many pictures he had of his late wife Kya. It was at times like these, when he was reminded of the burden placed upon Katara, that he missed his deceased wife the most. It's been years since her passing from an incurable illness, but the loss was still tangible.