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"I'm here with Gord Talassa after that stunning upset victory!" The Ampharos sportscaster looked starry-eyed and excited beyond all reasonable levels as she cast her eyes over the Blastoise with the cocky grin. The big turtle cut an imposing figure, but more eye-catching were the obvious signs of cybernetic enhancement - plated armor, a scouting unit across one eye, and the shiny additions to his shell cannons. "Gord, very few people expected you to beat the favorite for league champion! How did you manage to overcome Zuko Cambrion?"

"Pah! Everyone needs to get past the old man," replied Gord in a brash display of bravado. "He's had his time, but he clearly can't keep up with the younger generation. They thought he had the edge, but these babies have the edge over everything!" he pointed back to his scope-enhanced cannons. "Especially stubborn Fire-types who probably can't figure out how to operate a telephone!"

"How do you respond to fans who now see you as one of the front-runners for the tournament at the end of the season?"

"They have good taste, that's what I say! Maybe we're still a good ways off from that, but I think I can handle just about anyone! And hey, if Daddy Charizard wants to get his butt candle handed to him again, let's see him make the tourney! I'll have him in my crosshairs, literally!"

Zuko growled a bit and snapped off the television. Really, he didn't know why he bothered frustrating himself like that...he typically didn't watch the post-match stuff, especially after he lost and especially on tape the day after the fact. Then again, it wasn't normally on in his manager's office, either...perhaps Bryson had been gathering data earlier and just forgot to switch it off. At least he hoped that was the case, if the Alakazam had somehow thought it was going to motivate him, he was going to have some words.

To say that Zuko had hit a rough patch was putting it far too mildly. Things were not going well for him and he didn't foresee them getting better in the future. That probably seemed like an odd assertion given that he was still in the top five of the ACL Master Class standings and still slightly an odds-on favorite to take the championship mantle once again - it had only been two years prior that he'd held it aloft, and not for the first time. But what others saw wasn't what he saw...or rather, he didn't see it the same way.

Fighting was in his blood - that was the way he was raised, that was the life he knew. He'd been born and spent his early formative years in a very rural, traditional lifestyle, part of a tribe that had wanted to retain an old-style way of living rather than joining the 'modern world.' He been raised as a warrior, his strength and skill evident even from an early age. He learned how to hunt wild game almost as soon as he could walk, fashioned weapons out of the world around him, and sought to make his forebears proud with his ability to help contribute to their village. Had he continued in that way of living, he doubted he ever would have wanted for anything.

Alas, it wasn't to be. Nature was a fickle thing, giving them many gifts but also capable of great wrath. A devastating storm reduced everything they had built to scattered debris, as well as seriously wounding most of the tribe, leaving some permanently disabled. A hard decision had been made: they simply couldn't manage the way they had been left, and the only option was to abandon the remains of the village and seek refuge among the modern world. Not everyone was pleased with it, but even some of those who weren't joined in the agreement - it was better than starvation and a slow death.

So Zuko found himself having to learn a whole new way of living. Not everything changed completely, his family still adhered to traditions in the way they dressed and turned their skills to crafting to sustain the family in this new world. But there was no hunting to do, and weapons were not the way of this world. It was a challenging adjustment for a Char who'd never thought he'd do much more than fight, and it was not easy to get used to everything that was around him now that wanted for a mind rather than a body. Schooling was not for him, he couldn't focus and didn't want to memorize trivial items that meant nothing to him...he wanted action, activity, something to push his body to the limits.

Thankfully, there was a refuge: the Arena Combat League. Even in the modern world, there were many who wanted to showcase their fighting prowess, and the ACL provided a means to do that. Fighters would engage in fierce one-on-one combat, trying to overpower the other until they were unable to continue. It was not a fight to the death, and severe wounds were rare unless something went wrong, but it was unquestionably challenging, taxing, incredibly rough on the body...everything Zuko could have wanted. After quite a bit of begging and pleading, he finally wore down his parents to allow him entry into a regional youth league division, catering to the youngest competitors.

It was quickly clear that Zuko had found his place, and almost as quickly he made it his home. From his first year until he aged out, he ruled the roost, winning nearly all of his matches and taking the regional and national titles every single year, and competing in several ACL-sponsored tournaments, all but one of which he claimed the top spot. It was at one of these that he met Bryson Howless, an agent and manager for ACL fighters, someone to help keep them in shape and deal with daily matters that fighters generally didn't want to deal with. The moment he aged out of the youth division, Bryson was approaching him, making him an offer that no one ever got: direct induction into the ACL's Premier Class, the second-highest class to Master Class. Most fighters had to go through the Amateur and Professional Class leagues first, but Zuko's talent was worthy of an exception. Of course, Zuko could hardly say no to that - he was thirsty for a challenge above the level he'd been facing, and took Bryson up on his offer without really thinking about it.

The transition was definitely not the smoothest, and Zuko found himself immediately outclassed in his first matches by fighters who were more experienced than he. But this only encouraged the Charizard to throw himself in even more deeply, honing himself to a level he didn't even know he had in him...he'd stunned everyone by making a late surge and netting a top eight finish in the Premier Class in his first year. It took two more for him to take a championship, but then he reeled off three straight...by the time he'd put in the five years necessary to be granted induction into the Master Class, it was a no-brainer for all parties.

It wasn't just Zuko's fighting prowess, it was his appeal. He was something most of the audience didn't see; he kept to his native traditionalist mindset and reflected it in his garb and battle approach. He wasn't fond of the spotlight, had far less of a prima-donna attitude than a fair number of other fighters, and was earnest in everything he said. Whether because of his novelty, his ability, or his personality, many found something to like about him, and his matches tended to draw larger audiences than normal. The ACL wanted him front and center, and Zuko couldn't have cared less as long as he could continue doing what he loved. It was a much easier transition, as well, the skill gap was not nearly as large as the previous transition; however, the overall competition quality was fiercer, and Zuko was by no means a perpetual favorite anymore. It didn't matter much to him; he gave it his all, and even if he wasn't the champion, he almost always finished top eight, usually top four.

But around ten years ago, things started to go downhill.

The league had been getting some blowback about the strain put on the bodies of the fighters, as well as a push from younger and newer challengers regarding the use of technology. Local and regional leagues, in an effort to cater to an increasingly tech-oriented youth population, had been opening up their rules to allow modern tools to enhance one's fighting ability. Some of them had gone quite a bit farther than others, to the point where rather than competing in simple uniforms, they were almost in something akin to power armor. The battles waged were fiercer than ever, but also less taxing on the fighters, and drawing attention and discussion more and more. The ACL had been slow, but they had caved to the trends...more and more allowance was being made for tools and enhancements and such, not all the way to full armor but to Zuko it seemed like every day that wall was being chipped away.

It was an affront to him. He had made his way to this level on his own merits, not using anything to help him, just fighting and training and striving to become the best. Technology wasn't something he wanted or needed, and he refused to use it - something he had remained adamant about even as Bryson tried to convince him otherwise. The Alakazam had eventually relented, and continued to market Zuko as all-natural...but cheap shots from tech-users always left Zuko with a sour taste in his mouth, and he hated the looks he got from Bryson every time he had to suffer one of those. He was still winning, but it was getting harder and harder...championships seemed to be going to those who used tech more.

What really got to him was the smugness of the tech users, like they had accomplished something over someone like him. Gord hadn't truly won their battle...he'd achieved the win condition, yes, but not with his own ability. And Zuko didn't mind losing to a superior opponent, but he HATED losing to someone who didn't earn it. If there was a rematch, he was going to have all the spitfire he could muster, and that Blastoise wouldn't even get a chance to use his fancy gadgets...

But that was a maybe for the future, and he didn't want to let it distract him. With a cleansing smoky sigh, he turned and entered Bryson's office. The Alakazam had embraced technology well before the ACL, monitoring multiple screens and using various tools for communication and analysis, but at least his wasn't used to fight, so Zuko didn't give a damn about that...he didn't understand any of it, though, so he hoped that Bryson wasn't going to make him type anything up or anything like that.

"Zuko, good to see you. I hope you didn't take that last match too hard."

"...I'm fine." Zuko really wasn't, but he didn't need to say it; Bryson could tell his emotions just fine.

"Ah. Well, I wanted to talk to you about something that I think might be of some help to you. It's absolutely incredible what you've accomplished in your career so far, you will easily be held up as one of the best ever, I have no doubt about that. But there are always plateaus in one's development, even at this stage. Your self-motivated style has gotten you farther than most, but I think it contains a limiting factor in that you don't get as much interaction. There's additional learning that can be gained from taking on other styles..."

Zuko grunted. "Group training was something I did back in the youth leagues. They couldn't keep up with me. And they don't do that in the Master Class, and you know the lower ones wouldn't be able to keep up with me either."

"Of course, of course. But there are other ways. I received a request recently...someone who wished to learn a bit more about your style and your methods, in a more direct sense."

The Charizard blinked, not immediately comprehending. It took a couple moments, but... "...You can't be serious. Mentorship? I'm not a teacher or a trainer, Bryson."

Bryson was unfazed by the reaction, which was never a good sign. "You haven't been. What's to say you can't be? You know, it's been said that one of the best ways to learn is to teach. You are so good in so many ways, but I think you have trouble perceiving the thoughts of others, learning how they think and act. Your skill and strength are amply able to compensate, but the isolation you keep yourself in remains a weakness."

Zuko growled quietly; this was far from the first time Bryson had said something like that. At least he wasn't talking about damn technology, but still... "You think my teaching some starry-eyed whelp's going to help me understand people better?"

"Yes, I do. I think you would benefit from knowing how things go for others, rather than just your own experience. How many times have you been caught off-guard by the moves others have made when they're pretty clearly telegraphed to viewers? They get into your head, but you don't get into theirs. Having to work with and adapt to a student will force you to learn a bit about how to dig into their thought processes and get an idea of what they think, feel, plan, and so forth. I know you're more of a physical sort, but you're sharp enough when you want to be, and this isn't a book-learning sort of thing."

There were a dozen reasons at least why Zuko wouldn't want to do this. Distraction from his training, personality clash, having to manage another thing while still in league competition, and on and on and on...and it probably didn't matter. Bryson wouldn't have brought this up if he wasn't determined to make it happen, and any objection the Charizard could come up with, the Alakazam would have a dozen reasons to render it moot. A dozen dozens to his dozen...Zuko knew he was grossly outmatched. "If I agree to this, then I need to be able to put an end to it if I feel like it's hindering me. I'm willing to give your idea a shot, but if I find this whelp insufferable, or he won't learn from me, or it's getting in the way of my performance, I'm axing it."

Bryson nodded. "Of course. You're the one it comes down to in the end, and I'll respect that decision."

Zuko wasn't entirely sure about that - Bryson could be pushier than he let on - but it was a way of retaining some small say over things. "Fine. Bring the whelp in and we'll see what he's made of. Better be something to him."

"Certainly, I'm sure there is. Though, I'm not sure he'll take to being called 'whelp.'"

"Well, that'll be his problem. He can prove his un-whelpness by showing he's good enough." Petty, but Zuko wasn't exactly holding out much hope. If this was a junior, he was probably not even close to where he needed to be, maybe thought that being under Zuko would give him some undeserved credibility...he was going to make sure that his 'teaching' imparted some hard lessons if that was necessary. But hey, he was giving it a chance.

---

One good thing about Bryson was his promptness. The meeting with the prospective student came the next afternoon. So it was another trip to the office for Zuko, who would rather have spent the time getting back to his training, but figured if he was going to agree to this he should at least try to see it through like a professional. Bryson had his ways of getting him to do things, but he didn't try to force him into a lot of things - the fact that he wasn't being forced into product hawking ads was a blessing, for example. Indulging his agent here and there was a good way to ensure he still had a lot of his own decision-making power.

Upon arrival, he could see Bryson talking to the presumed student...and almost instantly Zuko had misgivings. It was another Charizard, but his visual appearance was markedly different from the usual. Charizards typically came in some variety of orange, with natural variation from a brighter yellow to a deeper red; Zuko himself was on the red end of the spectrum, with wings that were almost black. There was also a chance to get a black-colored specimen, but that was extremely rare. The student here, though, was a stark purple with blue wings - a coloration he had never seen before. And that usually meant one thing. Designer baby. This kid's from a rich family. Freaking great, don't tell me this is gonna end up being glorified babysitting of some spoiled whelp who's had everything bought for him.

Zuko wasn't exactly fond of THAT trend, for sure. Wealthy parents-to-be were going to clinics to get their eggs modified, fertilized, and then reimplanted, rather than making their babies the old-fashioned way with their own untampered genetic material. It was expensive, but it made it possible to give the offspring traits that were desirable or unique...or give them an advantage in life that they didn't really need. It seemed patently unfair that those already best situated to give their young all the advantages couldn't be satisfied with just that, while the rest of the world had to struggle along. Plus, it usually was intended to force the kid into a particular future, one that they might not necessarily want - there was quite a bit that genes couldn't dictate, at least.

As he approached, he did his initial sizing up. Purple Whelp seemed to be quite fit, at least - quite muscular and well-framed, somewhat reminding Zuko of his younger self, back well before all the scars. He was a few inches shorter and a bit smaller overall, but didn't seem like he'd reached his full size quite yet either, a bit more growth potential was there. His voice sounded clearly on the young adult side, animated and excitable, filled with a confidence that Zuko had every intention of proving false. He was dressed very casually, jeans and an open shirt - a far cry from the traditional garb Zuko was wearing, and ill-suited for the arena, but Bryson had already let him know there wasn't going to be any actual training today. Perhaps he'd shape up a bit when they got to that...

As he approached, Purple Whelp turned and his eyes went wide as saucers. Zuko had that effect on people sometimes...he restrained his ire as the younger 'Zard rushed up to him. "Wow! Zuko Cambrion! It's really you! I've seen so many pictures of you...you're even more amazing in person! Ah, sorry, I know you must get this a lot, but, man, I never even thought I'd get to meet my idol!"

"Zuko, this is Feuro Ganstenton," Bryson announced. "The surname is probably one you've heard before." No kidding Zuko had heard it, it was hard NOT to hear it - they were one of the biggest business magnate families in the world. If you lived in a big city chances were you saw something they designed and built. Architecture, urban design, landscaping, construction, engineering, not to mention having their fingers in every single part of the energy sector...they made filthy rich look dirt poor. They were also heavy corporate sponsors of a variety of sports leagues, including the ACL. They were one of the ones that had approached him early about hitching his name to theirs, and one of the few that actually respected his no, to their meager credit. Hopefully this wasn't a way to worm into his life, or payback.

"Fuero Ganstenton, is it?" Zuko kept himself brusque, not wanting to give any impression of being impressed that hadn't been properly earned. "You look a bit young to be thinking ACL."

"Oh! Yeah, I am, but I'm trying to think ahead," replied Fuero, who seemed to be getting a bit over the fanboyism...a bit. "Haha, I mean, I'm not gonna be shooting straight into Premier like you did, for sure! I can't believe they even let you do that, that's like unprecedented!"

"Listen, whelp, if you wanna gush about me do it on one of those websites you kids can't get off of. I'm here to talk business with you, that means you need to talk business with me."

"Now now, Zuko, let him get it out of his system," Bryson chided with clear amusement. "I'm going to get some paperwork going, why don't you two get to know each other a little?"

Of course he would be doing that...Zuko rolled his eyes, but only said, "Fine, fine. Go do your thing." With that the Alakazam made his exit and the two 'Zards made their way to the seating area. At least it meant a chance to really see what the whelp was about, and on his own terms - Zuko much preferred to do the talking for himself rather than let Bryson control the conversations. Psychics were terrible communicators - they always knew so much but seemed to lose track of the fact that no one else had the same level of insight they did.

Arms folded, Zuko looked Fuero in the eye. His intimidating stance didn't seem to be rattling the whelp at all, which could either be a good thing or a bad one. "Okay, well, let's start with some basic background. You ever done anything like this before?"

"What? Yeah, of course I have!" Fuero almost sounded offended. "I've been in a junior circuit for four years now! I didn't just wake up one day and decide I wanted to lay some smackdown!"

"You'd be surprised what some people think they can do." A bit too much pride in that response, which Zuko was sure he could grind down pretty easily. Still, four years of experience was better than his expectations - suggesting not only that Fuero had a familiarity but also that he hadn't been groomed for this from birth. Not that he wasn't going to confirm that more concretely. "Just four years, huh? So it was your own decision?"

"Ah, yeah, it was. My parents weren't too big on it at first...I think they thought I was gonna follow in their footsteps. They've come around, I think, especially since my sister seems like she's all for being the heir...er, don't tell them I said this out loud, but I couldn't POSSIBLY care less about business. It's just so dull...I gotta move around, you know?"

Definitely helpful for Zuko to know - the last thing he wanted was interference from above, either in support or defiance. Parents that had accepted it but hadn't been grooming him for it was about the best case scenario. "I can relate. So you've been at it four years, then, how's your performance been?"

"Well...I don't mean to brag, but it's been really good! I mean, objectively it has been, I placed second in my second year and first the last two, and I was undefeated last year!"

Zuko couldn't help but smirk a bit. "And your first year?"

Fuero deflated a bit. "Ah...I don't like to talk about that one much..."

"Tough. That's how I get to see what you're really like. You can puff yourself up all you want, but if you can't admit your failures and flaws, you get nowhere."

"Ugh...yeah, I know..." Fuero sighed and rubbed his head. "It was a bad first year, okay? I was...well...fuck it. I was a goddamn BRAT. My parents were pissed at me that I wanted to do this combat league stuff, I was pissed at them that they were trying to push me into stuff I had no interest in, I acted like a rich bitch most of the time and didn't listen to the coaches...and I got my ass kicked. Of course I can look back at it now and realize just how bad I was, but I didn't really then. Not until I heard the opposing coach talking at mine at a tourney where I placed dead last...he was thanking my coach for bringing 'cannon fodder,' and my coach was talking about how he was only keeping with it because my parents were paying him to knock me out of 'this arena phase.' I thought he was setting me up at first, but when I confronted him, he said he didn't have to - I'd lose to anyone who tried." Zuko could clearly see the frustration the purple 'Zard had at remembering that. "And he was right...I mean, I'd lost all but a couple. Said he didn't care if I failed because it wasn't like I didn't have a sweet life already lined up, so he wasn't gonna waste time trying with me."

"Sounds like a no-nonsense kinda guy." Zuko made half an effort to hide the approval in his voice. He'd met enough coddlers at the junior levels to have worked up a healthy distaste for them.

"No kidding. And I was ALL the nonsense. After he said that, I was just about ready to quit. Then I heard my parents talking about these business meetings that they were going to, dullest things I could imagine...and then I kinda woke up. Realized that for the first time I found something I WANTED to do, and I was just gonna throw it all away? It's pretty stupid to do that. So I went right back to practice the next day, and told the highest-ranked member of our group to go all out on me on the field. Of course, he was MORE than happy to after having to put up with my bad attitude, and of course I got my tail handed to me, but for the first time I actually paid attention to how bad I was. Threw the coaches for a loop when I started actually asking about the mistakes I was making. I ended up actually winning a few matches as a result, but as late as it was in the season I was still near the bottom of the board...so, kind of a shitty year."

"Hm. I'd say that was probably your best year."

"...Huh?"

"Performing well is one thing. Growing up is another. Skills only get you so far here...character gets you FAR more. The only people who improve in this business are those who have the character to. There are plenty of amateur and pro-classers that will never hit the big time because they're too full of themselves, think that they're better than the people who could train them, and they can win at their level but they can't win above it, fail every test to get them to the next stage and never accept it's their own fault. You got that beat out of you early, that'll serve you well. After all, that's the only reason you did better enough to have the success you had the next three years, right?"

Fuero rubbed his head again. "I...guess you're right about that. I never would have gotten anywhere if not for that."

"Exactly," declared Zuko. "Your lowest points are as important as your highest. Don't try to hide them, or you lose what made them important."

"Yeah, you're right. Sorry."

"Ego is your biggest enemy here. Don't ever think too highly of yourself, because everyone wants to knock you down and the higher you are, the harder it is to stay stable. Number one undefeated in juniors isn't a non-accomplishment, but no one in the ACL is going to give a good goddamn."

Fuero nodded. "Yeah. I guess I need to make sure I focus on getting better, not where I was before. But, well, that's why I'm here."

"Really. You're a few years out yet. You could have plenty more time in the junior league."

"I could, but what would that get me?" Fuero shook his head. "Last season was...look, I was undefeated, yeah, but it didn't feel as meaningful to me. I won a lot of matches the previous year but it was a struggle, I had to go all out against some of the toughest competition to come out on top. But several of those guys aged out, a few others were suspended for behavior...I didn't really struggle that much in any of the matches last season, it felt like I had a lot of greener guys and a lot fewer of the top-tiers. I didn't feel like I gained that much...yeah, it's a rare thing to be unbeaten, but it would've been nice if I felt like I had to do more to earn it."

Zuko nodded. "So, you feel like you're not going to be gaining anything by staying there."

"You can't climb the next mountain if you cling to the top of the first one, right?"

Zuko could have spoken up about his own experience - he'd stayed in his junior league all the way through. But then, his family had no means to hire a dedicated coach or get him an apprenticeship with a league member like this...had he had that option, he certainly would have taken it. "So you want to be groomed for bigger and better things. And you're fine with foregoing the attention that you'd get by staying the big fish in the little pond?"

"I get enough attention anyway just because of who I am and who my parents are. I could do with less of it, honestly...at least less of it that I don't earn."

"Hmph. You're not going to be avoiding attention in this league, so you'd better get used to it." Zuko wouldn't have minded a little less himself, at least outside of the arena. Too many paparazzi trying to find the next big scoop or the next big scandal...he had no scandals to worry about, but that didn't stop them from trying to badger him about it. "All right, so what, you're looking to get personal training until you're old enough to enter the Amateur Class?"

"That's right! I figure if I can get a head start on training, I'll have the best chance of rising up quickly! Only top 16 gets the chance to advance at the end of a season, and there's no way I'd end up that high without a lot more intensity!"

"I'm well aware. So why me? You know I've never trained anyone. I've done some talks and demonstrations for junior leagues here and there, but I'm not a teacher."

"You kidding me?!" Fuero exclaimed. "You're a goddamn legend! You're literally in the argument for greatest of all time! If there's anyone I want to even try to emulate, it's you! You were part of what inspired me to start doing this in the first place, and I know you know some stuff that no one else does! Training with you would be a dream come true!"

"We'll see if you still think that once we've actually started. Right, then. You know the season's in its early phases and I'm not going to be able to dedicate every second to you. I have my own practice and routines to attend to."

"I know...your manager said twice a week. But that's more than I'd be getting if I went back to the junior leagues. I'll keep working on stuff on my own in between."

"You'd better. If you don't try to keep pace I'm not going to keep putting my own time into this. You're gonna find out you've got a LOT to learn and a LONG ways to go to get to this kind of level, and it's going to take more than just my coaching to get there. But if you put that in, well, maybe I'll be encouraged to keep it up."

"You can count on me, Zuko!" Fuero eagerly reached out and shook the elder 'Zard's hand. "I'm gonna show you that I'm worth it, I promise!"

"Talk is cheap, whelp. I'll see you for our first session to make you start proving it."

"Yes sir!" Fuero left with a spring in his step; Zuko had no illusions about it, he was making the other Zard's dream come true. He had a sneaking suspicion that it wouldn't be all it was cracked up to be for Fuero...dreams had a way of getting sour when they were realized. Would he still be as excited when Zuko's inexperience as a teacher came to bear? Probably not...but if he wasn't, well, at least that would probably be the end of it. Still, it at least sounded like it might be better than he feared - the whelp at least seemed to be dedicated and willing to learn, and wasn't treating it like just some pleasure trip. And perhaps he'd be open to learning how to fight the RIGHT way...perhaps this was a chance to pass on some respect for the purity of the sport.

Not bad on the eyes either...except for the purple. Who comes up with these designer colors? Still, he's gonna be popular with the ladies...the colorblind ones for sure.

He turned back and headed towards Bryson's office - he needed to know where this was going to fit in his schedule and start to put together some kind of training plan. He may not have known the first thing about this, but at the very least he was going to put effort into it until it became no longer worth it.

---

Fuero was over the moon. It wasn't every day you got to meet your idol in person...for a lot of people it wasn't ANY day. That he just had had him starry-eyed all the rest of the day.

He hadn't been understating it when he said that Zuko was the reason he got into arena combat. An irascible, rambunctious teen who had no patience for school, he had been floundering badly in a lot of ways. He hated book learning...he wasn't even necessarily that bad at it, but he just found it so dull. He couldn't sit still in class, and the droning voices of his teachers grated on his ears hearing them day after day after day. Nothing in particular really captured his interest...or it would be more accurate to say he wasn't exposed to enough that might capture his interest, with his parents setting the expectation that he'd be part of the business. They were constantly pushing him into business courses and trying to rope him into conversations, all of which drove him crazy.

Then he'd gotten to go to an ACL match, one featuring Zuko. And he was enraptured right away. Two titans duking it out, striking at each other with powerful blows and ferocious moves, their only goal to defeat the other. It was raw, it was fierce, it was primal, and it was AWESOME. And that high-breed Charizard who had been scripted to be a corporate behemoth veered off into a very different direction.

Of course, it had started out poorly, as he'd revealed to Zuko, but things had gotten a lot better. His parents had come around, seeing that he was actually happy and was doing much better in life in general; it was hard to deny that he hadn't been a good fit for what they'd tried to push on him. That helped them see better what his siblings were into, and they had their heir now after seeing what his sister could do. Fuero had the freedom to follow his heart, and it was getting him to places he'd never imagined. Being able to be under the tutelage of Zuko was the best thing he could have hoped for. He was strong, he was skilled, he was relentless, and he was a master of his craft.

And holy hell, was he ever HOT.

It was no secret how Fuero was oriented - it only took a few instances of getting boners to muscled male ACL fighters for him to catch on that that was what stoked his flames. And Zuko was the hottest of the hot to him. With all the exposed scale leaving little to the imagination, it certainly put a sweltering image into Fuero's imagination, one that he fantasized about on the regular. When he needed to fantasize, even - there were plenty of drawn works which gave a VERY thorough envisioning of what little was hidden. Of course, Zuko wasn't one to deliberately indulge others in such things, so there were no 'official' materials to peruse...but artistic depictions were always welcome as far as Fuero was concerned, and plenty of psychics were good enough to be able to figure out the reality even without a direct line of sight.

He didn't need a full nude shot, though. Even Zuko as he normally was was hot as fuck, and it had been all Fuero could do to restrain his natural urges when meeting with his idol. Of course, that was strictly fantasy here - he knew full well he wasn't here to seduce the elder Charizard, nor would Zuko be receptive to that, he had a reputation for being very businesslike when it came to this part of his life. Sure, even he had to have some sex life, but he didn't mix it with the circuit, as far as anyone could tell. Fuero hardly dared to consider himself the first...but that didn't mean he couldn't imagine it.

Which was what he was doing as he was laying on his bed, eagerly flogging his indigo staff, his big hand barely able to fully encircle the girth of his own tool, the well-defined bulk of his right arm bulging a bit as he worked his cock harder. He imagined Zuko posing for him, flexing different parts of his body, showing off the many battle scars and thick cords of powerful, superheated muscle. He imagined Zuko baring himself to him, showing off his (in Fuero's imagination) thick, red shaft steaming and throbbing with need. He imagined Zuko coming near, a sultry, aggressive look on his face, raw excitement in his features as his body came up against Fuero's, the power he showed off in the arena on full display for him and him alone...

With a grunt, Fuero came hard, shooting a hot, sticky load all over his body. It came out fiercely, erupting up onto his muzzle as well as his neck and chest, splashing onto his well-defined pecs and abs, round after round of thick steaming spunk pasting him and making him murr out lewdly. It was always so satisfying to get nice and empty after a long day, especially to a sexy fantasy...he milked the last few shots out of his cock, and then stretched out and sighed contentedly as he laid back, in no rush to get himself cleaned off. Maybe he wasn't going to be able to get Zuko to rail him, but he'd at least get a lot of exposure to him, and get plenty of fapping material ingrained in his head. And maybe he'd eventually get good enough to actually meet him in a match...that might have been better than sex.