Princess Azula sat at her vanity table, putting on her makeup and applying an understated perfume. Her expectations for the coming evening were...low.

Some days earlier, she had attended a tournament for firebenders on Ember Island, as a spectator, not a participant. The surprise winner was a boy about Azula's age. Despite his youth, his prowess was undeniable. As he celebrated his victory, he looked out into the crowd and his eyes met hers.

It was nearly sunset when Azula set off for home. For her, home was her family's old beach house. Zuko had restored it when she had gone to live there. Live there alone, as she would point out. She was going back alone as well, when she felt a tingle on the back of her neck. Something was wrong, and she knew what: she was being followed.

Azula played it cagey. She continued on as if nothing were amiss at all. This gave her a feel for how her pursuer would approach. Whoever it was, they were in no hurry. She turned toward the open beach, and that drew the person into the open. She couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman, due to wearing a hood. It seemed likely to be a man, given the figure's height, but that wasn't important. Azula went on the offensive. She blasted a gout of blue flame at the pursuer. The other deftly avoided her attacks, but did not retaliate. "Whoa! Easy, beautiful!" A man's voice.

Azula was stunned. "What?!" The man pulled back his hood. "You're the tournament winner," she said, intrigued. "What did you think you were doing?"

"Just trying to talk to you. I thought you wouldn't want to do it in front of everybody."

"Smart thinking. Very well, you may go now. Brag to your friend about how you survived an encounter with Princess Azula."

"But I don't want to go," he responded with chipper nonchalance. "I'd like to talk to you."

"We have nothing to talk about," she said haughtily.

"Sure there is. I could talk for a long time about how pretty you are."

Really? was Azula's first thought. Which she quickly banished. She didn't know what upset her more: the grin on his face, or his presumption. "Who are you to speak to me this way?"

"Forgive me," he said with that same friendly smile. He made a formal bow. "Princess Azula, I am Masanori Sun, son of Keone and Suri Sun."

"I've heard of your family," she said with no praticular interest. "You were good back there."

"Two-time Grand Champion, as of today, I'll have you know." His pride reminded Azula of a little boy bragging about some nothing accomplishment. She remembered Zuko having that bearing when they were very little.

"You interest me, Masanori Sun."

"Thank you," he said sincerely. "You interest me, too. Maybe...we could take in some of the island sights. Any time you like."

"A social occasion?" she asked dismissively. "You must be joking."

"I can do that too," he said with that same pride. "But this time I'm serious."

What else is there to do? she asked herself. "Three days from now, we'll meet at this spot when the sun is highest. And we'll both wear masks."

"I get it," he said with a wink, "you don't want people gawking at us. You're clever and beautiful."

"Then you accept."

"I do," he said gamely. "See you then." And he bounded away to the north, leaving Azula very perplexed.