Imprisonment

She rendered me motionless.

I never expected to see her again after the war nor did I expect to see this version of the girl we once fought. She stared at me. Her eyes were void of the life it once contained no matter how corrupted and dark it was. It was still something beside this emptiness. The war had changed us all. I was tempted to leave her, but her gaze held onto mine. She could no longer control the fire that rage inside of her. It was gone. She was gone.

She was the first to move, her eyes not registering anything around her. For that, I was thankful. I do not think I would be able to control my anger if she had realized who I was, who she was. She was the reason why the people I called family have become so distanced. We won, but at what cost. Suki, my wife, barely acknowledge my existence. Katara isolated herself from the world. Five years have come and gone and yet I still do not know where she is. Worse, Aang had lost his faith in humanity. With Fire Lord Ozai gone, she was the only one left I had to blame other than myself. I am unsure why I suddenly grab her arms as she walked passed me. The world stood still.

"Azula."

She looked at me with her empty eyes. She pried herself from my grip and bent down to pick up the content of her basket. I stared down at the girl before me who was far too gone to realize that one of her enemy stood above her. She was far too concern with the fallen flowers and broken petals. Despite the damage she had done, I find myself unable to hurt her. Death became an everyday occurrence as the war escalated, but I had friends. I had a family. She had no one. Some said it was power that drove her to the brink of insanity. Others had believed it was the blood she shed that she could not wash away that drove her to madness. It puzzles me how she could have survived this long in her current state of mind.

"Azula," I repeated softly. "Get up."

She did as I said. What was that I felt for her at this moment? I do not care for her nor could I easily forgiven her. Her sins will always be etched into my memory forever. Wounds may heal with time but the scars still linger as a reminder. She turned to walk away and the journey I was on laid forgotten in the dust as I followed her. The medicines I came for no longer matter. For now, my wife no longer matter except for the demon I chose to follow and for that, I hate myself.

She led me to a small clearing in the middle of the forest. A small unmarked grave sat in front of the run down house. I supposed this is where she stayed all these years. Azula sat in front of the grave, placing the flowers she had picked gently down the makeshift headstone.

"I hate you," she finally spoke and at first, I had thought it was directed at me. "I hate you," she continues to muttered to herself.

I stood next to her, observing as she continues to place the flowers down. My presence seems of little concern to her, she was lost in her own world where nothing exist. She intrigues me.

Her quiet I hate you, turns into uncontrollable rage as she tore the yellow daisy up, screaming at the headstone. "I'm not a monster! I'm not a monster!"

Tears mixed in with dirt as she begins clawing away at the grave violently. Her body shook and I did not know what to do but to grab hold of her, pulling her into my arms as I tried to sooth away her tears. I have not held my wife since her last battle and yet here I held onto this monster. I held onto her tighter, afraid that I may never get this chance again to have another warm body against me.

"I'm not a monster," she looked up at me, her eyes pleading for me to agree.

"I know," I lied.

---

One year has come to past and I remain with her. I do not know why I chose to stay in this remote forest. I do not think I can go home and face my wife. I abandon her to care for the woman that had caused her pain and for that, I am ashamed of myself. Maybe it was escape that I crave, and with her, I remain no one. With her, I have no obligation to live up to; I am not a hero when I am with her.

"Why do you not hate me," she asked quietly as she sat and observed me.

"I do not know. I should hate you." This conversion we have almost every day. Every day was the same, the same routine, the same conversion, yet I never tired of it. It was the only thing remaining constant in my life, everything and everyone had changed so much because of the war that we've all become strangers to one another.

She followed behind, her eyes cast downward. "I tried to kill her you know," she stated. Her voice was quiet and scared. She was no longer the same girl who had incited fear into me back when we all were young, but a broken woman.

"I know." I know all too well. She was the reason why my wife refused to allow me near her, to look at her. She destroyed the beautiful strong woman I came to love, the woman I still love.

She wrapped her arms around me as I stood still. Her head lean against my back. I take comfort in her warmth.

"Go home Sokka," she held me tighter. "Your wife is waiting for you, go home."

She let go off me; her arms hang loosely at her side. She is unsure of herself as am I. She had broken our unspoken cycle with those few words. I never had expected her to ask me to leave, I had secretly believed I was going to remain here with her, surely my wife has moved on. I wanted her to move on, what kind of man was I to think such thoughts, to abandon his own wife because he could no longer handle her coldness.

"She do not wished to see me," I simple said hoping this conversion would end here. I was wrong.

"You do not know that."

"No, I do not." I walked away from her. I do not like where this conversion is going. Everything was so simple before and she broke that bliss by shoving me away.

---

I never realize how trapped I was in this world. I love her, but the woman I once knew was no longer there. The scars that paint her body served as a reminder of the past that she I could never, will never reclaim. We were once happy, content with one another and maybe we rushed too fast into this marriage believing that it would keep us together forever. We were young and foolish. We had believed that love was eternal. But that was before we saw death, before we saw what war could do to humanity. Our hands are not free from the blood that was split. None of us was innocent no matter how much we wanted to believe. Aang never understood that war, is death, victory was won over the death of those who had fallen…and we won.

We were no longer young. I had dreamt of a family, a home filled with laughing children. Instead, I am constantly enclosed in silence. We were both warriors, yet the war had broken our spirit. It destroys all the illusion we had that humanity was good. She barely acknowledges my presence. She was prisoner of her own memory, her own failures.

"You came back Sokka," she broke the silent. Her gazed shifted from the window to me. Her dark eyes laid empty, her face void of any emotions. I rather her be angry instead of this cold woman I faced.

I am unsure what to say to her. I wanted to pull my wife into my arms, shower her with kisses for leaving her, yet I cannot. She no longer allows me near her. "I am sorry," was the only thing I could say to her.

I am a coward. I cannot bring myself to tell her the truth. It would kill her to know that I've been caring for the woman who left her cripple and broken. I cannot tell her that she was the one killing me slowly. I love her; I love her so much that it kills me she had lost hoped in love, in our love.

"Will you be leaving again," she asked as she turned back to watching the world moved on.

I walked towards her and laid my head on her lap. She looked down at me expectedly. I missed how we used to be. "I don't know," I tell her, but she knew I was lying.

She unconsciously strokes my hair, "You smell of her." I remain quiet. "Sokka?"

"Hmm…"

"Does she make you happy?"

No…"Yes," it was what she expected to hear. I am unsure what happiness feels like now in the mist of this new world.

"Is she here?" My wife asked, her fingers still idly playing with my hair.

"Yes, she is by the pond."

"Are you not afraid she will leave?"

"No," she was helpless.

"I want to see her," I had feared this.

I said nothing as I help led my wife to her. I do not know what she will do to the woman who left her in this state. "What will you say to her," I asked.

"I don't know Sokka," she gripped my arm tighter. "I am not sure if I should feel anger towards her or pity?"

I know all too well the feeling.

She sat at the edge of the pond, her back towards us. She must've sense our presence for her to turn to face my wife and me. Time stood still, as the two women left in my life stared at each other. My wife was the first to move. She closed the distance between herself and Azula.

"Are you happy?" My wife asked. It was a simple question that held so many meanings to all of us. No, none of us was happy. This idea of happiness eludes us all.

"I do not know. I cannot say I am nor can I say I am not," Azula replied. "I do not know what happiness is." She turned her gaze towards me, "I am at peace."

Silence…I hated the silence. So many things could have been said, but left unspoken because of the past.

"I am sorry." Azula said quietly. It does not erase what was done and she knew this. My presence was her constant remainder of the sins she committed.

"I cannot forgive."

"I know."

They stood face to face, barely apart from one another. The world stood still as both contemplated their next action. Words were treaded carefully when they spoke, both were still fragile. I cannot hear the words they whisper to one another. I do not want to know. My wife was the first to move away. Her eyes cast forward, determine, unwavering. She walked pass me and I could only look to Azula in confusion. Unlike my wife, her eyes were cast downward in shame, in guilt. What words were exchanged between the two to leave them in such opposite stance?

"I am sorry," she repeats once more.

---

My wife sat still on the bed we once shared. "Suki," I called her name quietly. It has been ages since I had last said her name. It sounds foreign in my mouth. It no longer belongs to me, "Suki?"

"Go home to her Sokka," she simply said. This was not the answer I came looking for. "She needs you more than I ever will." Her eyes were clear, her words final.

Can't she understand that I needed her? I was nothing without my wife. She was everything to me and I had abandoned her for what, Azula? How callous was I to leave her for the very woman who caused us to be broken? "I'm sorry," begins to lose its meaning. So often was it said, and so little it shows. "I can't, my place is here."

Her gentle laughter enclosed me in its warmth. She was not angry. "She makes you forget. I cannot. I cannot let go of the past and you want nothing more to move on with the world. I'm sorry Sokka. Go back to the home you have built with her. There is nothing here for you." Her eyes gloss with the tears that threaten to fall. I cannot make her change her mind yet I cannot for the second time leave her.

"Stop, this is nonsense. You are here. You are what I need. You are my wife and I should have never left."

"No!" Her voice rose in anger. "You should have never left, but you did. It destroyed me to know that you chose to remain with her all this time, knowing that I waited for you here. You chose her. You chose to run. You chose to forget. But I can't, I can't forget when I will always be in this state. I can't be with you, because I am your remainder of the past. I am your remainder of your failure to protect me, your failure to save this marriage. The thought of you hating me because of my failure to move on kills me each time I see you."

Her word cuts worst than the scars that lined my body. I am the one who had caused her this pain. I was what broken her, not Azula, not the war, but me. "Suki, I…" what can I say to ease her pain, to erase the years we remain broken together. We were all prisoners of the past and despite the world rebuilding itself we never did.