Zuko still had dreams about his life before the burn. He remembered his mother's perfume; the way she always smelt like freshwater and lavender under the familiar tint of cigarette smoke. Always the same sort of dream, his mother, father, Azula, and himself together, playing, laughing, having fun, being a family. The very word itself, venerated from biblical scriptures and historical writings, brought the sharp taste of bile rising in his throat. His most recent dream took place at Ember Island Beach at their family's vacation home; a pleasant picnic on the beach. His mother fed the seagulls with him. His father played catch and called him Champ.
Zuko still had nightmares about the day it all went wrong. Thirteen years old, screaming for his mom down empty hallways. Azula laughed shrilly. "Zuzu, you're pathetic! Mom's gone. Gone for good."
But what Zuko hated the most was the fact that the nightmares didn't just stay hypothetical. No, his nightmare was plastered across the left side of his face. A twist of fiery red and rusty pink pulled on his face like a knot of tree roots diving into the ground. His eye, pinched thin.
For it was his pride that made him bitter. His pride that made him call his grieving albeit strict father the 'biggest fucking coward on planet fucking earth'. His pride that allowed his father to slap a white hot poker against his left eye.
Four years later, it was his pride that deemed him the bad boy at Ba Sing Se Academy. Girls flocked to him but simultaneously feared him. People were wary. Zuko felt as if he was doomed to a life of high-school solitude. For who could ever love someone like him; who could ever love a beast.