[ Michiru can definitely feel Zuko's hand twitch when she takes it, as he was not at all expecting that, and while his first instinct is to violently pull his arm away, he remembers what he heard about Chroma, and he feels the transference right away — it's so strange... But he lets her hold his hand for a moment as he listens, thinks, processes, feels. He doesn't know what to say to her "stick together" idea — he didn't plan on staying long enough to talk like that — and he didn't feel they were in the same situation, no. Granted, he didn't know what her situation was at home, but despite her kindness to him, he didn't really care. He was focused on himself, his own predicament. He strongly doubted anyone was in his same situation. He was pulled at the worst possible time. There was a war going on at home — tomorrow was to be the culmination that had been brewing for a hundred years... The day the Avatar was to defeat the Fire Lord. The Avatar, whom Zuko had spent the better part of three years hunting to regain his own honor in his father's eyes, before going wildly off course and betraying his country to join forces with the Avatar's resistance movement against the Fire Lord. The Fire Lord, who was plotting world domination, with certain victory if the Avatar failed to defeat him — and if Zuko wasn't there to help defeat the Fire Lord... that is, to help defeat his own father... tomorrow— if he stays stuck here, and can't find a way back home in less than 24 hours... Doom.
His mind begins reeling again, and while he manages to control his temper better now, he still feels the white hot rage at his situation tickling inside again, rewinding the shock anew in his mind. Michiru may feel a slight increase in heat in his hand — not so hot it hurts, but quickly growing warmer than it had been — but no need to worry, because Zuko pulls his hand away abruptly, hardly subtle. His voice is thicker than before, not the socially awkward teenager he'd been just a couple moments ago. ]
No. We aren't. I can't stay here — I won't. I'm finding a way home today.
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His mind begins reeling again, and while he manages to control his temper better now, he still feels the white hot rage at his situation tickling inside again, rewinding the shock anew in his mind. Michiru may feel a slight increase in heat in his hand — not so hot it hurts, but quickly growing warmer than it had been — but no need to worry, because Zuko pulls his hand away abruptly, hardly subtle. His voice is thicker than before, not the socially awkward teenager he'd been just a couple moments ago. ]
No. We aren't. I can't stay here — I won't. I'm finding a way home today.