Wow! Two Maiko stories in a week? I'm on a roll!
I don't own anything...
Mai felt unusually happy that day. Sure, the Avatar was alive and that meant more war, but he had been defeated. When the Avatar's invasion was driven away and the Fire Nation Capital was declared secure again, Mai went back to her house. She hadn't seen Zuko in the underground bunker, so he must have been in a special part for royals. She would go find him soon.
Mai gave a yawn as she entered her bedroom. It had been a long day. She was about to flop down on her bed when she noticed something. A scroll of paper, wrapped in a ribbon, had been placed on her pillows. Frowning slightly, Mai picked it up and untied the ribbon.
Dear Mai. I'm sorry you have to find out this way, but I'm leaving.
Mai's heart stopped.
I'm going to join the Avatar and help him defeat my father.
What? He was becoming a traitor?
It may seem like I'm betraying you and the Fire Nation, but I'm not. I'm trying to save the Fire Nation.
Was that supposed to make her feel better? Mai felt like she couldn't breathe.
Please forgive me for hurting you. Zuko.
Mai sank to the floor, feeling numb. Zuko was gone. He had betrayed her.
She knew she should be angry. She should be blazing with fury; tearing up his letter and smashing vases. But instead, she felt a heavy, bone-crushing sorrow that seemed to press down on her. Quietly, she rolled up the letter and tucked it into her pocket.
All her life, Mai had trained herself to keep her emotions inside. She had even taught herself to not cry. But now Mai wanted to cry. Zuko had left her and her heart was broken and she just wanted to cry.
She buried her face in a pillow from her bed and screamed into it. But the tears wouldn't come. Come on, cry! she shouted at herself. But she couldn't. She was dull, dingy, emotionless Mai and she couldn't cry.
She curled up on the floor, tearless sobs racking her body. No matter how hard she tried, her eyes stayed dry.
Finally, she dragged herself onto her sofa. She pulled the letter out of her pocket and read it over once again. She stared at the last line. Please forgive me for hurting you. Then she crumpled the letter into a ball and dropped it onto the floor. She stared out the window.
"I'll never forgive you," she whispered bitterly.
