Zuko had always been a bright boy, full of quiet curiosity and a yearning to learn. But fate hadn't been kind. Orphaned at birth and passed between cold institutions, he was finally adopted at age eight. Most would expect a happy ending—but his story took a cruel turn.
His new home was not a haven. It was a cage.
His foster mother delighted in tormenting him. She destroyed every book he cherished. His foster siblings beat him for fun, knowing he wouldn't dare retaliate. Not while their father watched—an oppressive figure who ruled with fear and violence.
Zuko endured it all in silence. But now, at sixteen, something inside him broke.
"I can't take this anymore… This is unbearable," he muttered, panting as he ran through the dense forest, cold branches whipping at his face. "I… I can't live like this…"
He stumbled. Pain shot up his leg as he twisted his ankle, tumbling into a shallow pit. A scream escaped his lips—his ankle was sprained.
Then came the sound of boots. A shadow loomed.
"No… please…"
A rough hand grabbed him and dragged him out. His foster father had found him.
Zuko didn't resist. His body refused to move.
Back at the house, the family awaited his return—not with worry, but with mocking laughter. His siblings jeered. His mother sneered. His father wordlessly hurled him down the basement stairs.
He crashed onto the cold floor, pain spreading like fire through his bones.
"You're a slave in this house," his foster father said coldly. "You try to escape again, and I'll kill you."
Then came the beating. Fists. Boots. No hesitation. No mercy.
When it was over, Zuko lay there—bloodied, broken, barely breathing. The door slammed shut, leaving him alone in darkness.
"Why…?" he whispered. "Why am I treated like this? I thought… I thought I was finally in good hands…"
Memories of his adoption flashed in his mind. The fake smiles. The empty promises. They'd hidden their malice well.
But he refused to die in that basement.
With trembling hands, he reached into his shoe and pulled out a tiny key—his only secret. He crawled to the door, heart pounding. The lock clicked open.
It was midnight. The house was silent. Step by step, he slipped through the shadows and opened the front door.
Freedom.
He limped into the night, each step agony. Blood trailed behind him. The road was close. Just a few more steps—
A crack split the air.
Zuko looked down. A dark stain bloomed across his chest. He stumbled and collapsed into the dirt, eyes wide in disbelief.
His foster father stood by the window, rifle smoking.
"What a shame," he muttered. "I wasted money on a disobedient brat."
Zuko lay still. Tears slid down his face as the stars above faded from view.
Footsteps approached. The family gathered around his lifeless body.
"We should dispose of him now," his foster mother said coldly. "Before anyone finds out."
No grief. No hesitation. They dumped him into the river under cover of darkness. No name. No grave. Just silence.
---
But death wasn't the end.
Zuko's soul drifted into an abyss, weightless and cold. His pain was gone, but so was everything else. He felt nothing—until a gentle light appeared.
A woman, radiant and warm, cradled him in her arms.
"You're free now," she whispered, her voice soft as wind. "You've suffered enough. You deserve love, and I will grant you the life you were denied."
Zuko looked up weakly. "A… new life?"
The woman smiled, took his hand, and guided him toward the light.
---
Soft voices broke the silence.
"Look, Percy! He's opening his eyes!"
"I'm watching, Hazel. I won't miss this… He's ours now."
Zuko slowly opened his eyes. The warmth of sunlight bathed his face. A kind woman hovered above him, tears of joy in her eyes. Beside her stood a man, equally moved.
The woman leaned down and kissed his forehead.
"Welcome to the world, Franz Leonhart," she whispered. "You're safe now."
In that moment, for the first time in his life… he felt loved.