[Years later, Katara suspected she should have seen it as a turning point when the boys decided to teach Aang how to shave.

"But I already shave," Aang protested. "I've been shaving for years!"

"Those middle hundred don't count," Sokka said.

The boys stood at a trough of steaming water in one of the Western Air Temple's communal bathing rooms. Someone had blocked the entry and exit points of flowing water into the trough, so that it pooled into a secondary channel and continued its descent into the waste-water channels leading into the chasm below the temple. Sokka, Aang, and Zuko stood shirtless before an old, spotted mirror. Foam coated Sokka and Zuko's jaws. It coated Aang's whole head, chin to scalp.

"The face is harder," Zuko said. He squinted at himself in the mirror. He pulled his dagger down carefully, stretching the skin of his face taut as he did so. "You have to be precise-"]