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The sky is torn apart by a flash of light.
The soft sound of rain, mangled by a roar of thunder.
He wouldn't find her here, would he?
She slumps against a tree, both hands covering her mouth to stop the tears from spilling. She's not crying. (yet) She can't. She wouldn't. She's not weak. (yes she is)
She wonders if her brother is still looking for her.
She thinks — perhaps hopes — that he is.
Why is she stopping? Why is she stopping when her heart is still beating and her lungs still working and her legs still more than capable of running? Why is she stopping when she should be fleeing?
(perhaps she wants him to find her)
(she's so tired)
There's a knot in her throat, a painfully tight rope that tightens whenever she takes a breath. Is it trapped inside her throat or wrapped around it? (she isn't sure she can never be sure)
Why does it hurt to breathe?
A fist clenches her heart, clutching it as if it might break, (and it just might) refusing to loosen it's grip, even as she gasps for air and her fists clench the ends of her hair.
Why is it so hard to breathe?
She thinks she should be good at it now, good at unravelling the knot in her heart, the lump in her throat. All those hours, days, years spent in the training room, Father watching her every move.
She would be perfect.
And then she would slip up.
And then Father's lips would turn down.
And he would hold out his hand.
And she would take it.
But not to help her up, no, it was never to help her. She had been foolish enough to believe that he might actually care the first time. She would never make that mistake again.
Her small hand would fit in his (pity, it would have been nice if he would hold it for once) — and his fingers would tighten around her wrist (it seems so long ago, her hand so small) — and then it would burn, white hot and blinding, until it hurt enough to teach her a lesson, but never, never enough to leave a scar. (Father couldn't risk marring his precious daughter's porcelain skin, now could he?) (that's because he loves her he loves her he loves her helovesherhelovesherhelovesher)
She only screamed the first time, and even then, only softly, so that no one would know. (she thought that it would be better if she bit her lip until she tasted blood and that the pain she inflicted upon herself would make the pain flaring in her wrist more bearable but it never did, it never did)
Her knees are weak, and they buckle under the weight of it all; and as she sits on the damp grass, she realises that she doesn't care if any of it dirties her pants. (and she doesn't care that she doesn't care, even though she probably should because she is supposed to be perfect, and how could she be perfect if her pants were dirty but it didn't matter then and it didn't matter now and it will never matter ever again because Father is in prison and she's all alone, like she was when she was eleven and she stayed in her room all night, refusing to watch the ship of the banished prince leave the shore)
A few loose strands of hair hang down her face, taunting her, as if screaming that she didn't cut them all off when she had the chance. Droplets of water dangle dangerously on the tips, but eventually fall. All of them do. All of them fall eventually.
Her clothes are soaked to the skin. She wraps her arms around herself. Warms herself up. But it's still cold. (coldcoldcoldcoldcold)
She was small, then, such a long time ago. But brave — oh so very brave. That was before Father could twist all her stars into shadows.
Zuko found her that night, the first night it happened, laying on the floor in the training room, staring at the ceiling as if there was something there only she could see. Her hands curled up next to her chest.
He stood at the doorframe.
"Aren't you tired? You should go back up to your room. "
There's the slightest bit of venom to his words, jealousy, she presumed. (don't be jealous of me, please, I need you to like me, at the very least)
"I'll go back when I feel like it, Zuzu. "
He walked towards her and kneeled down. His hand ghosted over her burnt wrists.
"What happened? "
"It doesn't hurt. "
She lied.
"I asked you — what happened! "
She sighed, sat up. Looked him in the eye.
"I burnt myself. Are you happy now? "
"Oh. " He looked ashamed. His eyebrows furrowed and his lips — ever so slightly — turn downward.
"Do you want me to carry you back up? "
She would have laughed, except that she could have cried. She stood up.
"I don't need your help Zuzu. "
"No you don't, I know you don't. But I can still help you, can't I? Besides I wanna prove that I'm strong enough. "
Oh, Zuzu. Poor sweet innocent little Zuzu. Trying to manipulate his sister into accepting his help. Trying to trick his sister into collapsing into his arms. Who does he think he is? (she won't accept his help, she won't, she doesn't need it, she doesn't need it, she doesn't want it)
Or, maybe, just maybe, she would use him, this once. Father approved of using people, didn't he? Yes, yes, of course. That would work.
"Fine, " Azula raises her head. "But only because you're probably not strong enough. "
"We'll see. "
Zuko hooks an arm under her knees, one around her waist, and sweeps her off the ground. He starts towards the door.
She wriggles in his arms.
"Zuzu, you'll drop me! "
"I would never drop you. "
Breathe, Azula.
Breathe!
Why does she feel like this? She hasn't felt like this since Sozin's Comet, after that wretched Agni Kai.
Why does she feel like she needs to force her pathetic excuse for a heart to beat — or it would stop and she would die right here, right now? She wonders — how does a heart beat? She knows, of course she knows, but it isn't supposed to feel this way, it never was. Whatever it is in her that passes for a heart would have to persevere, because she can't.
Her head hurts, Agni, it hurts, as if it is being prised open, as if it is being torn apart. At the same time she feels her brain is contracting, trapped in a prison with no walls, but the walls are Azula herself.
Her heart pounds. Her ears pound. Her head pounds. As if something desperately wishes to escape.
Leaves rustle. Branches snap. A twig is tripped on. And a boy curses, falls, lands on his two hands. (be more careful Dum Dum)
He stands, wipes his muddied hands on his shirt. He looks at her and sighs — in what seems like relief or exasperation (she isn't sure she can never be sure) (but she should be sure because this is zuko and she can read him)
His unscarred side faces her, and his eyes (or should she say eye) soften, though slightly.
"Are you okay? Did you fall? "
What is that look in his eyes? (pity, pitypitypitypity. how pitiful. how pathetic. crying, azula, really? in front of zuko of all people)
(where did he come from? did he just appear? that makes no sense but nothing makes sense anymore nothing because Mother is supposed to be dead)
And suddenly she's on her feet, struggling not to spill her tears, like a child who is holding a large jug filled to the brim with water, knowing that she will be punished — even if only a drop falls to the floor.
When did this happen? When did she lose control?
The Boiling Rock. Mai.
"I love Zuko more than I fear you. "
Ty Lee. A series of jabs. Azula.
"Take them somewhere I'll never have to see their faces again! And let them rot!"
"Stay away from me. "
If her voice shakes he doesn't say it. If he wants to point out that she looks like a mess he doesn't.
"Azula. Azula please! " Another twig snaps as he takes a step towards her (will this boy stop destroying what has already fallen), arms held up in surrender. "Please, don't leave. "
"Do I have a choice, Zuko? "
She spits his name as if it is a curse — as if it is the first time she's ever said it. Her voice quakes — a sob is hiding under the surface — and for the first time he wishes she would have used his nickname instead.
"You'll just lock me up again. Like you did the last time. And now that you've no use for me, I don't think I'll receive any more visits from my darling brother, whom I love so dearly. So - "
(she's joking. it's just a funny joke hahahahahhaha she doesn't love him, of course not)
(then why isn't she laughing?)
She tries so hard to sound sadistic. Tries so damn hard. Normally it works. But not this time. Not when her voice is strained and her eyes tired, her breathing ragged and her hair damp. Not when she looks like the child she is. The child she so desperately tries not to be.
"Azula, no. I'm not - I didn't - I didn't know, okay? And I - "
"Clearly, you don't need me anymore. As it happens, I don't need you. So go back to your group of so-called friends, and beg them to soothe your bruised ego. There's a healer, isn't there? Katara? "
A girl in a blue dress. Same shade as her eyes.
"Give me a reason to think you might hurt Zuko, and you don't have to worry about going back to that institution anymore. I promise I'll put you out of your never-ending misery. "
She was powerful — but flawed — too flawed for her own good, Azula thought.
"Don't worry, my love. " She loves to call people that. It infuriates them. "I'll make sure to ask him how he's doing. Brush his hair, polish his shoes. Like the good little sister I am. Make sure he's doing fine. He's been looking dead lately. "
"That won't work on me, Azula. "
"You're one to talk. How's your family? I've been meaning to ask, " She adds. "How's Mommy? "
"Azula, please! "
"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! " She screams, she screams because it is all she can do not to. And her voice comes out strained and hoarse and cracked, and she wonders how she could've fallen so far.
He takes a step towards her. He doesn't know what he's doing, he can admit that much. And he doesn't know what to say, so he says what he knows will break her.
His voice is soft.
"Azula, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. "
The fist around her heart loosens, and now she wants it to tighten again, just so she can be held together for a other second. (just a second, it's all she asks)
She starts to laugh, and then she starts to cry, and suddenly hot tears are spilling down her face unheeded, spilling like the pain that is seeping through the cracks of her heart. She covers her eyes with the palm of her hands, her fingers tugging in her hair, partly so she couldn't see Zuko's reaction, and partly because she could relish in the pain felt as she tugs her strands of hair loose from her scalp.
An boy kneeling for forgiveness from a man known to have none. A flaming hand brought down to his face.
Zuko screamed. Azula laughed.
It was unfair, wasn't it? That she would be punished for every little imperfection, while Zuko would be free, after failing at every task? Unfair? Isn't it?
She could have cried — but she could also laugh — and which one was better? For her? To Father? Which would earn her more of Father's favour? His praise? His love?
(but which would be more freeing?)
And then Zuko passed out, and the screams died.
She hoped that was the only thing that died today. (she's kind enough not to wish death on him)
"Azula. " His voice is soft, warm. He's at her side before she can run away. "Azula. Lala. Don't do that please. Don't pull out your hair. "
He gently takes hold of her wrists, pulls them away from her face. His features are soft, kind. (pitypitypitypitypity he thinks she is pathetic, she'll show him who's pathetic )
Why is he treating her like this? Why is he treating her like she's a child? Why is he treating her like she's weak?
(why is he treating her like he loves her?)
She wrenches her wrists free of his grip, takes a few steps back. (though it was comforting and safe and everything father's unforgiving touch could never hope to be)
"Don't touch me. "
"Azula, I'm trying to help you. Let me help you. "
He approaches her.
"No you're not, no you're not. "
She sobs and she screams and she whines, and the rope around her throat loosens, and the fist around her heart disappears, and the lump in her throat becomes smaller and smaller and smaller until she can finally cry without it hurting. (she forgot to breathe but that's okay she doesn't need to)
She rests her forehead on her palms, and she turns away, to run and run and run and run and never come back, to maybe find a cliff and jump off — or somewhere high — to strike herself with lightning and make it seem like it was an accident. But her feet are tethered to the ground.
"Azula. Lala. "
"Don't call me that! Don't you dare call me that!"
"I did when we were kids. That was so long ago, wasn't it? Don't you remember? "
"I remember everything, Zuko. It would be easier if I didn't. "
She can hear herself. And she sounds weak. She wounds weak and pathetic and useless. And maybe she is. Cold, cold, rainwater enters the back of her shirt, runs down her back, sending shivers upon shivers down her spine. If she touched her skin she thinks it would be cold, like the skin of a corpse.
"Azula I - "
He pretends to know what to say but he doesn't. (because he wants to say, azula I don't remember much, I don't remember most of our childhood, I can't, but if there's anything that I do remember is that I used to love you and you used to love me and I don't remember when you loved me or when I loved you or how you loved me or how I loved you but I just remember how it felt and I liked it azula, and I think you did too. and maybe I don't remember how it ended or why it ended or when it ended but I know that we're both at fault so please, azula, come home)
He looks at her, actually looks at her, and she looks like a child. Because she is.
A child in a soldier's uniform; is she still a child? A child trying to be brave and strong and powerful and useful and perfect, all the things a child should never need to be?
Her shoulders shake, she shivers, she screams. And he wonders how he could have hated her for so long. His hair hangs loosely over his face, droplets of water falling to the floor. He takes a step forward, feeling the water splashing beneath his shoe, the water squishing in it.
"Azula, come back, please. It's not safe out there. "
She lowers her hands, turns to look at him, face stained with tears mixed in with rainwater.
"This is your fault! " she screams, voice hoarse and guttural. "All of it! It's your fault! "
"Azula, I'm sorry. I already said that - "
Her voice softens, but it is no less venomous.
"But you didn't mean it. " She walks backwards. "You're the reason why they left me. Everything. It's because of you. Father hated me, because you told him that I didn't kill The Avatar. "
She doesn't sound angry, just resigned.
She sobs, and she has to force the words out, and it hurts, it hurts, but she has to.
He looks down. In another world he might have fought back but he can't, not right now. He can't risk losing her again.
"It's because you hate me, isn't it? Because I've always been better than you? I did you a favour. I told father you killed The Avatar. Couldn't you do the same for me? "
"You were just trying to put the blame on me, Azula? What did you expect me to do? Not tell Father? Tell him I was the one who killed The Avatar, but I failed and he's alive? "
"He wouldn't have punished you, Zuko! " She tries muffling a sob with her hand. "You were already leaving. But I - "
She wipes her face. "But me? I was still there. Did it not occur to you that Father would punish me for lying? No? Because you're stupid, Zuko! You're stupid! "
His face softens, like his voice. "Okay. Okay. But now I need you to come back with me, okay? I just — I want you to come home. I care - I care about you Azula -"
It's so clear he has no idea what to say.
(he's a horrible liar)
(then why does she believe him?)
"Stop lying to me! " she screams, and even now she knows how pathetic she sounds — a child having a meltdown, a criminal trying to defend herself.
She steadies herself, sharpens her gaze.
"I - you don't - you don't care - you don't care about me! You only care about yourself!"
"That's not true, 'Zula -"
"That Agni Kai. The last Agni Kai. "
"You were the one who challenged me - "
She gains confidence. (doesn't remember where she lost it but regains it all the same)
"Oh, oh? " she giggles through the sobs. "Oh? "
"Little Zuzu comes to murder his sister with his new best friend. But what does he see? His baby sister falling apart, tearing at the seams. And what does he do? He thinks that it's a good situation to take advantage of, and it is, it is, isn't it? "
"Azula, we've been pitted against each other our entire lives — and I've know we've both done each other wrong — but we can fix it, can't we? And I'll do better, I promise. But right now, it's raining, and it's cold, and it's dark. So please, come back, please, Azula. "
"You just wanted to see me suffer, didn't you? You like it. You love it. You revel in it. And that's why you left me, even - even after everything - everything that I did for you, you still left. Just like - just like - you're just like Mai and Ty Lee and Mother and Father and - " she falls to her knees, apparently in great pain, buries her face in her hands. " And Lu - and Lu Ten, Lu Ten. "
(patheticpatheticpathetipatheticpatheticpathetic)
"Fine, I'll allow you to go. But if you die... "
She ponders.
"If you die, I'll kill you. "
That makes sense, right?
Lu Ten cups her small face in her hands, kisses her forehead.
"Do I seem like the kind of man who dies? "
"No... "
He pulls her into his arms so that she won't notice the tears prickling in his eyes.
She's lying, why is she lying? He should expect this. Azula always lies.
(only because zuko always believes her)
"You didn't care about Lu Ten. You didn't care about me. " He tastes smoke in the back of his throat. "What did you do for me Azula? What did you do for me that wasn't for your own personal gain! You're crazy -"
He stops. Pinches the bridge of his nose. He's been so patient, just to lose his temper now. How could he be so stupid? He looks down. Opens his mouth to apologise.
"Crazy?" She rises. "You think I'm crazy?
"You're so funny, Zuko. "
"I didn't say it. " As if that makes anything better.
"Oh you didn't have to. "
"Mother thought I was a monster. "
"Azula, Azula I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. I don't know what came over me, I just - "
"Shut up. Shut up and leave me alone! "
She waves her hand, and a wall of fire erupts, separating them.
Monster.
"You're banished. "
"Dad's gonna kill you! "
"If uncle dies, Dad would be next in line for the throne, wouldn't he? "
"Like I've never done that before. "
"I say we take all their precious land, and their hope, and burn it all to the ground. "
"You and me brother. The showdown that was always meant to be. Agni Kai! "
She wishes she was only as cruel as the time when she first noticed she was, when she was small — and spent her time bringing her flame close to the turtleducks just so she could watch them swim away in fear. Like she did to everyone she ever loved.
If she can't be loved then she must be feared.
She's cold. Just like the corpses of all the lives she's ever taken. Just like her heart.
"Oh I'll show you lightning. "
She falls into a firebending stance, and feels lightning crackling at her fingertips, thumping in her veins, beating in her heart. She takes in a deep breath. And the coldness fades, and the warmth seeps out, into her flesh, into her skin — and if she touched her skin now, it would be warm, and safe and so very alive that she can't help but smile.
All the energy, pulsing throughout her body, travelling to her left hand, ready to be released.
She hears Zuko running to her but it doesn't matter now, none of it does, she just has to kill him and everything will be fine, Father will be pleased and she would be happy (whatever that means) and she wouldn't have to be scared anymore because Father would tell her that she's perfect and there would be no Zuko to tell her that — what did Zuko tell her? That she doesn't need to be perfect? He was just trying to break her. By taking everything she's ever learnt, everything she had been training her entire life to do, and turning it into ashes.
He's in front of her, but it's too late, Zuzu.
You're going to die and it's going to be by my hand.
She lets go.
Zuko grabs her hand, redirects her lightning to an innocent tree.
It happens so fast that it couldn't possibly be real.
And then her lightning is gone and a tree ablaze.
And her hand is still in Zuko's grasp, and her heart is clenching, and her throat is constricting, and tears are cascading down her cheeks.
But before she can mourn the emptiness felt at the lost, the numbness, the coldness in her bones, she's wrapped in her brother's arms.
His heart is beating against her cheek, and his arms are wrapped around her back, and embrace is warm and safe and oh, so very real — and she wants to run away, to punch him, hit him, kick him, until he lets go.
But she hasn't been held like this in a while.
(or ever)
She allows herself to relax — to melt in his arms — and her body goes slack, too tired to hug him back but wishing — desperately — that she could.
"I'm sorry, " he whispers. "Oh, Agni, I'm so sorry. Sorry I couldn't protect you. Sorry I didn't realise what was happening to you. "
Her knees buckle, and he eases her to the ground, not loosening his tight but gentle grip. One hand moves to wrap around her waist, the other cradling her head in his hand. He rubs her back.
" 'Zula I - " He breathes. (he's good at that, right?) "I've been hanging onto my meaningless, foolish pride. And that's been preventing me from getting you the help you need — the help you deserve. "
He gently pulls her head away (no please enough he can't do this to her not now, not when she's weak) and she wants to scream, she wants to cling onto him like he's the only thing keeping her rooted to this earth. He lets her — but softly tilts her head up to look at him.
"I promise - I promise that I will do everything in my power to help you, okay? "
She sobs. "Please don't leave me. "
He presses a soft kiss to her temple.
And then he whispers that he loves her.
He can hear her breath hitch, her grip on his robes clenching. A year ago he would be lying. But not now. Now he is being so truthful that it burns.
He whispers that he loves her.
The words are light on his tongue but heavy on his heart, and he finds it so easy for the words to just fly past the lump in his throat — when so many others had gotten stuck behind it.
"I love you."
And he doesn't know if she cares, doesn't know if she gives a damn about what he thinks, because he's never been a good brother, she's never been a good person, but he'd be damned if he would stop trying to give her the help he received all those years ago — which seems so long ago, now that he looks back.
Azula, what have you done?
What are you going to do?
"I swear I'll get you something, okay? Like a therapist or someone you can talk to, and I'll - I think I can let you live in the palace, or at least in one of the houses, if there's too many bad memories or you don't want to - "
"Shut up. "
"Excuse me? "
"You're rambling. "
He feels her smile against his chest, and then stop. Her breathing slows.
"Father didn't love us, did he? "
Even now she can her herself. And she sounds petulant, stupid — a child asking someone to love them — screaming that she is not joking. But she thinks she knows — and in any other situation she would never ask Zuko for answers — but she would like to hear it from his mouth, even if it hurts, especially if it hurts.
"No. No he didn't. "
He searches for something comforting to say, but finds that his throat is empty, raw, dry. So he wraps her tighter in his arms and tells her that everything is going to be okay.
And maybe he doesn't know. But if he is lying then it would be worth it — to think he was telling the truth — even if was only for a moment.
Sokka. Sitting around the fireplace.
"I get it, Zuko. I suppose if I was in your position, and Katara was the one who was - well, you know, evil - I would want to help her too. "
"She's my sister, Sokka. "
"You keep saying that, as if it means anything. "
"Doesn't it? "
"Of course, I guess it does. But um, " He takes in a breath. "I'm not really one for words. I would want to help her, of course I would. Not because she's my sister, but because I love her. "
"Oh. " Zuko knows he sounds pathetic.
"Don't you love her, Zuko? "