Don't Call Me Zuzu
Flashback:
Zuko, the five-year-old prince of the
Fire Nation, clung to his mother's side. He was
crying.
His mother was lying in her bed, her skin as pallid as the
sheets tucked around her. Upon hearing her son's weeping
she lifted one frail hand and stroked his hair. "Don't
cry, Zuzu." She comforted. "Everything will be
alright."
This only caused the young prince to cry harder. "No,
Mama! No!"
"Shhhh," The woman whispered with her
fading voice. She took Zuko's hand in her own and
squeezed it gently. "I love you, Zuzu. Always
remember that."
"No, Mama, please! Don't go,
Mama!" Zuko cried as his mother's already weak grip on his hand
slackened. Her body convulsed as she struggled to breathe
and then she closed her eyes and was still. Zuko buried
his face in his mother's side and wept. "Mama!"
"Come
away, Zuko." Came a cold voice. "She's gone."
The
young prince turned his tear-stained face to the figure silhouetted
in the doorway. "Oh, Father!" He sobbed, running
towards the man and latching tightly to his robes.
His
father, Fire Lord Ozai, stared coldly down at his son. The
boy was crying freely. Ozai heartlessly pried his son off
of his robes and commanded. "Go find your uncle and get
cleaned up. You can't go to your mother's funeral
looking like that. Think of how disappointed she'd
be."
Though it seemed impossible, Zuko began to cry even
harder. He ran down the halls to his room and locked
himself in. His mother was gone and his father hated
him. He would find no comfort
here.
"Have
you become uncivilized so soon, Zuzu?" Azula questioned. She
gazed at Zuko with eyes as cold as her father's.
Zuko
flinched. Zuzu. It was surprising how one
little word could cause such a painful memory to resurface.
"Zuzu?"
Azula repeated. "I asked you a question."
Zuko
glared at her. "Don't call me that!" He shouted
angrily. Only Mama can call me Zuzu.