Suggested listening: the albums "Deep Politics" by Grails, "Happy Songs for Happy People" by Mogwai, and "All is Violent, All is Bright" by God is an Astronaut.
Warning for mentions of self-harm and suicide ideation.
"where do we go from here?
the words are coming out all weird
where are you now, when I need you?"
Her mother had insisted on buying an entirely new outfit for the occasion, an outcome Mai had expected, though she didn't see why any of the old black dresses hanging in her closet wouldn't suffice just as well as this new black dress. Still, she knew better than to speak up. It was funny; after years of quiet compliance with whatever her parents wanted, her silence had become its own form of rebellion. They had wanted a perfect child, and they had ended up with a sullen, cold, and withdrawn one.
Standing in front of the mirror, Mai reached a hand behind her to yank the zipper all the way up. She liked black, but didn't know whether it looked good on her. Her pallid skin stood in sharp contrast, giving the impression that her limbs were just hovering, disjointedly, around the dress.
Mai didn't show it, but she was nervous. She had reapplied lipstick at least five times, each time scrubbing it off, wondering whether it made her lips stand out too much. She tugged at the hem of her dress and wondered whether it should have been longer. The two-inch heels her mother had found appropriate might end up handicapping her.
She already knew most of Zuko's family. They'd spent most of their time together the past year at his uncle's apartment. If it had only been Iroh, there would be no nerves. Mai liked him, and she thought he approved of her as well. Probably he was just happy to see his nephew happy.
And Mai knew Azula, though not as well. Zuko's sister was two years younger than him and a year younger than Mai. They attended the same school, and though they were in separate classes Azula had a reputation. She was extremely intelligent, extremely frightening, and a stone-cold bitch, with only one friend to her name. Mai had heard enough stories from Zuko to draw her own conclusions, none of which deviated far from the general consensus. Dinner with Azula would be unpleasant, but Mai wasn't really scared of her.
The only unknown element was Zuko's father, and he was the reason Mai stood in front of the mirror and fidgeted with worry over her appearance and the meal to come. Zuko did not talk much about his father, and his silence said a hundred times more than words. Mai knew Ozai was the reason Zuko had lived with his uncle for the past few years, but Zuko never talked about it. She didn't especially blame him, but the mystery only made her mistrust Ozai more. If it was up to her, Zuko would have turned down the invitation and she could have had him over for dinner instead, but he still wanted to make his father happy.
The only consolation was that they were eating out, in public, and so Mai probably wasn't going to end the evening skinned alive.
"Are you dressed yet?" There was the impatient knock on the door. Mai sighed. Her parents were all too happy about the arrangements. Mai's father was hopeful that he would be able to get public support from Ozai, a strong symbol of his pro-business platform, and Mai had become the key piece. She would side with Zuko against his father any day, but her parents' pressure was annoyingly insistent.
Ever since her little brother had been born, Mai had become the problem child. In the end, it hadn't mattered that she'd always done exactly as her parents pleased. It made her wonder what the point of obedience was. Not that she resented Tom-Tom. She was too fond of her brother to begrudge him their parents' affection.
"Yeah." The door slid open.
"Why are you standing around? You're going to be late!" Her mother hurried over, adjusting the dress's straps, pulling at the neckline, until it sat perfectly symmetrical on her daughter's collarbones. "I like the lipstick, by the way. I think you could use some earrings..."
Mai stood still while her mother fetched a pair of dangly gold things from the open jewelry box. They did look good, she had to admit.
"Now remember not to say anything rude, and make pleasant conversation. Make sure you say thank you! And mention your father, but subtly. Nothing too obvious."
"Yes, Mom."
"I have absolute confidence in you." She hugged Mai from behind, her bony frame pressing against her daughter. Mai closed her eyes and wished she wasn't nervous. Why did this have to be such a big deal? It was stressful enough without her parents' intervention. She was undoubtedly going to end up letting somebody down. It was hard to even get excited at the prospect of seeing Zuko.
"Thanks."
"It's too bad..." Her mother's voice trailed off. She used her fingers to trace the faint lines that crossed Mai's shoulder.
Mai felt as if ice had been dumped down her dress. She pulled away. Those marks weren't for her mother to touch. They weren't even that obvious.
"It is, isn't it," she said flatly, ready for the evening to end before it began.
She felt marginally better when she was outside, her heels clacking on the pavement as she made her slow way to the train station. The sounds of other people, cars, and electricity faded into the background. It was easy to pretend, when she was walking or on the train, that her parents were very far away. She didn't even mind the hour-long commute to school, where she would stand and stare out the window. More and more frequently these days, she would think about never getting off the train. She could switch lines to get into the countryside, make her way to an airport, disappear somewhere and never be found.
It was an idle fantasy. She would stay for Zuko and for Tom-Tom and for her parents. It was just a wish, just a daydream; it was easier to keep going when she knew escape was theoretically an option.
The train wasn't very busy. Most people would be with their families, she supposed. A loud gaggle of tourists was in the back of the car. She seated herself. All of Michi's miniscule adjustments went to waste when the dress wrinkled beneath her. The train sped along, dragging Mai off to her destination, bringing her closer and closer to her fears.
Zuko's university was in the main part of the city, close to her own school. By the time she was walking up the street toward the dorm, he was already standing outside. His hair was neater than usual, and he looked uncomfortable in the black suit. Somehow it looked better than if it had fit him perfectly. Mai smiled. He gave her a quick hug, and then they turned together back in the direction of the station.
"Sorry I'm late. Train was a little slow."
"It doesn't matter." He was fidgety. "Father'll probably be late too."
It never sounded less weird to Mai no matter how many times she heard it. Her own parents were strict and hardly close to her, but she had never called her father anything but Dad. She wondered whether Azula referred to him with the same formality.
"How bad is this likely to be?" Mai's tone had adopted its usual monotony. Even around Zuko, to whom she was closest, she preferred distance. A lifetime of suppressing and hiding emotions was difficult to unlearn.
"Better than if you weren't coming." He shot her a quick smile. She reciprocated.
"My parents are still pushing me to get your dad's support. I might have to play that up. Sorry."
"You've just been dating me to get close to him, huh?"
"You got me."
Silence was comfortable around Zuko. That was one of Mai's favorite things about spending time with him. She didn't feel anything leaden hanging in the air when neither of them were speaking. She felt no pressure to interrupt it. Leaves blew past them, all red and orange and brown, as they entered the station again.
"Uncle Iroh says he's thinking about going on a trip soon," Zuko said. "We might be able to borrow his apartment for a weekend or two."
"Oh yeah?" Mai's eyes flickered toward him. "Are you going to throw big college parties?"
"I had something more private in mind." He was blushing a little. It made him cuter. If they weren't in public, she would have leaned over to kiss him.
"Well, if you're up to it, so am I. If I tell my parents it's for my dad's best interests, they'll let me do anything. They love that I'm dating you." She couldn't entirely keep the bitterness out of her voice. Maybe she didn't want to.
Zuko's smile faded.
"Sorry." Mai's nervousness was gone. In its place was a familiar crushing weight, assuring her that the evening would be horrible, easily dissolving the warmth she had felt upon first seeing her boyfriend. She breathed in and out and forced her lips upward, but the heaviness didn't lift.
The restaurant was in the south of the city near the main station. Tall buildings towered above them, all lit up in neon against the black sky. Mai closed her eyes and imagined she was standing at the top instead of at the bottom. It was just another brief, useless fantasy, but for an instant it made her feel lighter.
The restaurant was on the tenth floor of one of the great monoliths. They were met with a suited host who took both of their coats and showed them across the room. Contrary to Zuko's prediction, three people were already seated at the table. As they approached, Mai heard her boyfriend mutter a curse under his breath.
"Sorry we're late," he said more audibly. Iroh, a rotund man with a full beard and head of hair, beamed up at them. It was strange for Mai to see him dressed formally in a suit when he usually wore more traditional clothes around his apartment.
"No problem at all! We hardly had to wait."
"Did you get lost?" It was Azula who spoke next, and Mai's eyes drifted on to her. She only ever saw the girl from a distance, and never so dressed up. Her hair, which Mai had always seen tied up, was shining in a straight curtain about her face. Her lips were dark red, complimenting the crimson and golden dress she wore. She was beautiful, but what struck Mai more was the resemblance between her and Zuko.
"I wasn't ready in time." Zuko forced a laugh.
"Are you going to introduce us?" The third of the trio finally spoke. Ozai was a tall man, broad in the shoulders, and though his hair was shot through with grey he looked quite young. He was the only one of them who didn't smile. His tone was as serious as his face.
"Of course. Father, Azula, this is Mai, my...girlfriend. Mai, this is my father and sister."
"Nice to meet you." Mai bowed her head and leaned forward. Her hair fell over her shoulders, and she resisted the urge to sweep it back. Ozai and Azula returned the bow, each more shallowly. Even as Azula's head moved, her eyes did not.
Zuko and Mai sat then, opposite the table from father and daughter. Mai ended up across from Azula. She didn't know whether she would have preferred Ozai; it was a choice between the sharp eyes and smile of a hyena or the steady glare of a hawk.
The waiter brought sake with the first course of soup. After he had gone, Mai watched Ozai pour a cup for Azula, who sipped with relish. Mai was not fond of alcohol, what few sips she'd had at her parents' dinner parties and campaign rallies. Beer was disgusting, wine was too dry, and sake wasn't much better.
The soup was something unfamiliar. Strange spices clashed on Mai's tongue. She continued to take spoonfuls nonetheless, though she had decided by the fifth gulp that she didn't like it.
"How have your studies been going, Zuko?" Ozai's voice was quiet, but Mai heard him perfectly. His was the sort of voice she could have heard and recognized even through a crowd of babbling people.
"Fine. I have three papers left to write before break."
"What is your class rank?"
Mai watched Zuko's fist clench unnecessarily hard on his spoon. "Around fifty, I think." In a class of five hundred, it really was impressive.
Across the table, Azula's lips twitched upward.
"Hm." Ozai said nothing more. The air stretched tense and thin, like a balloon filled too full and about to pop. Mai did not typically mind quiet, but this silence sat uncomfortably on her shoulders. She wanted to say something about how fifty was very good, about how hard Zuko had been working for it, but the words stayed in her mouth. As useless as ever. As silent as a statue.
Iroh, seemingly immune to any discomfort, came to the rescue. "You deserve it! You've been working very hard. It's good to remember that life isn't just about a perfect mark, after all."
Azula's attention seemed to be on rearranging the napkin in her lap. Her nostrils flared, though her smile stayed in place. She looked up then and caught Mai watching. She lifted one eyebrow. Mai held the eye contact a second longer before looking away.
"Strange words from a man who graduated at the top of his class," Ozai said calmly.
"Exactly! I should have spent less time studying and more time enjoying myself. I'm having to make up for it now. Oh! Did I tell you I intend to go on vacation in December? Europe. Iceland, maybe."
"No, you didn't. How...nice."
The next silence stretched on until they'd all scraped their shallow bowls dry. As if on command, the waiter reappeared, whisking the dirty dishes away and replacing them with foie gras. Mai had tasted it before once or twice at her father's functions, but she had never learned to like it.
"So, Mai." She was surprised when Ozai addressed her, as she'd felt more like decoration than an active participation in the meal so far. Underneath the table, Zuko's hand found hers and gave it a quick squeeze. "Your father's running for reelection next year, isn't he?"
"Yes. The odds look quite good." Her mother's words echoed in her head, but Mai thought the meal was awkward enough without her directly asking for Ozai's support. Dropping a hint would have to suffice.
"He's been quite pro-business. I hope that'll continue into his second term."
"My dad's pretty stubborn. He's not going to change his platform anytime soon," Mai said. She hated talking about politics. She didn't really enjoy talking in general. She didn't want to be there. She should have turned Zuko's offer down and told her parents she didn't want to go. She could still walk away and ride the train off by herself to enjoy the holiday in a restaurant where she enjoyed the food.
She didn't, of course. She kept her face mechanically still and tried not to let her discomfort show. It was so easy.
"You're studying for your entrance examinations, right?" Iroh asked. The question caught Mai in the middle of a bite and she had to chew quickly to speak again.
"Yes, since the beginning of the year. Cram school, too. My parents have their sights on a few different universities in the area."
"What will you study?" Ozai again.
"I'm not sure yet." Mai's discomfort was easing away into annoyance. She was having this exact conversation with everybody these days. It was so repetitive. What did it matter where she went to school? She hardly even cared. Her parents would end up choosing out of the schools that accepted her scores. She would go and take the classes they wanted her to take. It was all so predictable that it was boring. If people wanted to know about her future, all they had to do was ask her mother and father. She was a middleman, nothing more and nothing less.
"Plenty of time to figure it out," Iroh said. It would have been comforting if she hadn't heard the exact same thing from every other adult she'd ever had this conversation with.
The third course was fish, more familiar than the others. The motion of the chopsticks between her lips and the plate kept her grounded. It was better than sitting there with nothing to hold on to as if she was spiraling out of control, as if she would drift away into the sky with nothing to anchor her. They were already a good hour into dinner. She was ready for it to be over. How many courses were there? She watched sip after sip of sake disappear between Azula's red lips.
Iroh and Ozai entered into a mild discussion of workers' rights, and Mai took the opportunity to excuse herself to the bathroom. It was exactly as fancy as she would have expected from a restaurant like this. Framed squares of color adorned the tile walls. The lighting was unpleasantly harsh. She splashed cool water on her face, careful not to smudge her makeup too badly, and then hid in a stall. She supposed five minutes was the maximum amount of time she could spend without looking suspicious.
The door opened behind her, but whoever came in didn't go into a stall. Minutes passed and they didn't leave. Mai was past the five minute mark. Finally she resigned herself, flushed the empty toilet, and opened the stall door.
Azula was leaning against the wall, that little smirk still in place on her lips.
"The other stalls are free," Mai said.
"Thanks. I didn't notice." She didn't move. Mai hesitated another second and then headed for the sink. She wasn't going to ask.
"You want my father to endorse yours, right?"
Mai inadvertently made eye contact with Azula in the mirror that hung over the sink. She wouldn't stop smiling. It was starting to annoy.
"My parents want your father to endorse mine." Pedantic.
"Do you not?"
Mai didn't respond. The water was cold and refused to warm up no matter how long she held her hands under the faucet. She kept her eyes on the mirror, watching the girl standing behind her. She didn't know what Azula wanted. Her reputation seemed only to be confirmed by the second.
"I'm just saying. If that's what you want, I can make it happen."
"That would be great. Thanks." Mai refused to play. She had come to the bathroom to find refuge from the stress, and now it had followed her in there.
"It's no problem. Just one little thing."
There it was.
"Break up with Zuko."
Mai laughed, more out of incredulity than anything else. She shook water droplets off her hands and grabbed paper towels by the fistful, more than she needed. "Not going to happen. Sorry. My dad'll live."
Azula shrugged. "All right." She still didn't move. Mai walked to the door and pulled it open, but before it closed behind her she felt a hand on her shoulder.
They were very close together, and the scent of perfume was overpowering. Underneath flowers and spices, though, there was a bitter smell, something just faint enough to register. Mai thought she recognized it, but when she inhaled again, it was gone.
"Does Zuko know about these?" Azula asked casually. One finger traced the scars. For the first time that evening, Mai's general feeling of gloom evaporated. Anger cut cleanly through. She wrenched her shoulder away from the other girl and walked faster. She didn't look back to see whether Azula was following. She made her way back to the table and tried not to look as upset as she felt. When she had seated herself once more, Zuko's hand was there, and she squeezed it.
For the rest of the meal, Mai ignored Azula as best she could. It was hard, considering they were seated directly across from one another, but Mai refused to let their eyes meet. She didn't know what kind of reaction Azula was trying to get from her, but she didn't want to play along. She wasn't going to break up with Zuko, even if it meant her parents would be thrilled. She would cling to the one, small piece of her life that still made her happy.
By the time dessert came, Mai was full. Conversation had slowed, the pauses becoming more and more frequent. They didn't feel as overwhelmingly awkward as they had at the start of the meal, but Mai couldn't wait to be gone. It hadn't been as bad as she had expected, but in some ways the mundanity made it worse. She looked at Ozai as he calmly ate and knew that this man had made Zuko's childhood dark. No amount of friendly conversation would ever change that.
At last, hours after they'd begun, the meal came to a close. The waiter brought the bill, which Ozai paid with a flourish and a generous tip, and finally they rose. It was a relief to Mai to pull her coat back on, safely hiding her shoulders. As the cloth slid over her scars, though, she caught Azula's cold eyes on her.
The other girl smiled. Mai turned away, cold anger continuing to froth in her stomach.
It was cold out. Even with the warmth of the wool coat, Mai shivered. Zuko wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close. The embrace didn't do much to warm her, but it made her smile, and that was what was important.
A sleek, spotless silver car was waiting for Ozai and Azula, its engine running and the driver already seated. Azula disappeared gracefully into the interior, and Mai noticed that she hadn't been wearing a jacket despite the chill. Iroh, Zuko, and Ozai stood in a loose circle.
"Have a good trip, Iroh," Ozai said shortly. "I suppose I'll see you again after Christmas."
"Of course! Enjoy your holidays too." Iroh smiled.
"Thanks for the dinner invitation, Father," Zuko said. Nervousness made his voice sound breathless. Mai stood nearby, watching him carefully, wondering what to expect.
"It was pleasant," Ozai said. "As was meeting your little girlfriend."
"At New Year's-?" The hope in Zuko's voice, though he fought to contain it, was evident. Mai closed her eyes and wished she could hold him, wash him clean of the desire to make that man happy.
"I'll be busy." There was a note of finality in Ozai's voice. He looked over, gave Mai a brief nod, and then slid into the waiting car before she had time to return the gesture.
Mai crossed the few feet between her and her boyfriend and hugged Zuko. She wished she had the right words. She never did, it seemed. Fear of saying the wrong thing kept her mouth shut. She didn't know how to comfort Zuko when her best advice was to forget Ozai.
"Christmas will be better with just the two of you," Iroh said, but his smile didn't reach his eyes. He leaned in to hug Zuko too. It was just the three of them, towering buildings around them, the black sky crushing down.
It was cold.
"Thanks for being there, Uncle," Zuko mumbled.
"Whenever you need me." Iroh pulled away. "Happy Thanksgiving Labor Day, you two! Mai, I hope I'll see you soon. You know I love the pleasure of your company."
"I'm sure I'll be around."
They waved as Iroh bustled away toward the train station. Then it was just the two of them. Mai didn't know why, but her eyes were watering. A familiar leaden weight was settling itself onto her shoulders, one that was eased but not erased by Zuko at her side. She thought of going home and telling her parents that she hadn't really done as they had asked at all. She imagined the long silences and pursed lips, a hundred times worse than outright anger. A house where the primary weapon was passive-aggressiveness was an unpleasant house indeed.
"We should go," Zuko said eventually. His words were clearer. Mai wondered whether he'd been crying. She hadn't been able to see his face clearly enough to tell.
"Yeah."
The station was even emptier now. Silence reigned supreme, and for once it wasn't the comfortable silence Mai usually shared with Zuko. She glanced between him and the windows over and over again, trying to force herself to say something. His attention was fixed beyond the glass. The lights outside were so very bright.
"I'm sorry...things didn't go how you wanted," she said finally. She couldn't look at him as she said it. Her hands clamped tight around her purse.
Out of her peripheral vision, she saw Zuko shrug. "It was kind of stupid of me to hope. I just thought...since it was his idea, maybe he actually was interested in...I dunno, reforming something real. Anything."
"He's not a good person, Zuko. He doesn't deserve your approval. He doesn't deserve your love."
"It's not that easy," Zuko said. "You're still trying to make your parents happy."
"I still live with my parents. It's kind of necessary to not rock the boat."
"I can't help it, okay?" Zuko brought up a hand to cover his face. He turned sharply away from her. "None of this is easy! They're my family. And you can't just sit there and act like it's simple."
"Sorry," Mai said. She was. She should have kept her first apology inside. She had made things worse. She hated fighting with Zuko. She hated the necessity of this conversation. She wished they didn't have families. If only it was just the two of them, somewhere where the world wouldn't interfere...
They boarded the silent train. Mai wondered if it would always be like this, if any action on her part would always result in regret. Doing nothing at all was safest, wasn't it?
She stared out into the blackness outside the windows. She imagined the train hitting something, detaching from the tracks, rolling over and over. Fire. Screams. She and Zuko would both be part of the smoldering wreckage, and then there would be two sets of bad parents at the funeral.
It didn't happen, of course. The train kept going straight.
Zuko kissed her goodbye when they reached his stop, but Mai didn't feel much better.
As she'd expected, the weekend following was marked by cold silence from both her parents after Mai told them she'd failed to get any sort of backing from Ozai. She left out the fact about Azula offering to help if she broke up with Zuko. Her parents would instantly demand she dump him. She knew that. It made her feel cold inside to think of how easy it would be for them to throw away even something that mattered so much to her.
On Monday, she had a doctor's appointment, meaning she was late to school. She had just gotten off the train and was headed for class when a figure across the street happened to catch her eye.
None other than Azula was walking in the opposite direction from the school. It had been hard to recognize her at first because she wasn't wearing her uniform. The smirk she'd worn during the whole dinner was gone, leaving her face intense and vaguely contemptuous. Her every step was purposeful. She commanded herself with a kind of grace that was rare to find in anyone, let alone in high school students.
Mai realized she'd stopped walking to stare. Curiosity had taken hold. After a moment of deliberation, she doubled back and crossed the street, keeping a fair distance behind Azula. It was busy enough that she didn't think she'd be heard, but if Azula saw her uniform she would be recognized at once. Mai knew she shouldn't be doing this, should just go straight to school and forget about it, but she didn't care. This was more interesting than anything else likely to happen that day.
Azula had turned off the main road and disappeared into an alleyway. This was looking to be a worse and worse idea by the second, but the farther she went the more interested Mai became. What was Azula, top-of-the-class Azula, doing cutting school and disappearing down alleys? The vague idea of blackmail flitted through Mai's head. Maybe Ozai wouldn't think so highly of his daughter if he knew she was doing things like this.
Azula was nowhere to be seen by the time Mai was making her own way down the alley. The apartment buildings blocked a great deal of sunlight, lending the whole setting an ominous air. Mai half-expected someone to jump out and stab her.
It would be interesting, if nothing else.
The alley ended so abruptly that Mai was unprepared when it widened into a small courtyard. In the midst of the brick cell, standing amidst trash cans and pigeons, stood Azula, alone. She held a cigarette between two fingers and was currently exhaling a cloud of whitish smoke. She jerked her head up, and Mai was treated to the rare sight of surprise on the other girl's face.
Azula rearranged her features quickly enough. The confident smirk was back.
"You're following me now?"
"Looks like it." The smell of smoke was very strong. Mai wrinkled her nose. So that was the acrid scent she'd gotten off Azula's skin the other night.
"Do you want one?" Azula offered the pack. Her eyes were very cold. Mai gave her head an abbreviated shake. Azula took a long drag and glanced to the side.
"...You just cut class to come here and smoke?"
Azula shrugged. "There are worse reasons to skip."
"Does anybody know?" Mai didn't really understand. Why the hell would anyone as smart as Azula's reputation held her to be smoke? If it was about image, why was she sneaking off to alleys instead of doing it publically? Was this just an isolated incident?
"You know the school would confiscate them if they found out. Maybe expel me." Azula made a tunnel with her lips and directed a column of smoke toward Mai's face. Mai coughed and waved a hand to disperse it.
"What the hell?"
"Don't complain. You interrupted me."
"Does your father know?" Mai didn't know why she was bothering.
Azula appeared to consider this question. Her lips pursed together in quiet contemplation. The cigarette dangled loosely from one hand. "Hm. Probably. It would be hard to...live with someone and not know. Don't you agree?"
"Why?"
From Azula's face, it was obvious. She gestured impatiently with her busy hand. Sparks and ash flew from the cigarette. "Why do you cut open your shoulders?"
"Because it won't give me cancer and destroy my lungs before I turn forty," Mai said coldly.
Azula laughed. "I won't turn forty."
That took Mai aback. Azula's smile flickered for a second, her lips moving quickly to form something Mai thought might have been a swear. But just as quickly the smirk was back.
"Call it my teenage rebellion, if you want."
"Isn't the point of rebellion to make it public?" Mai asked.
"I'll save that for the kids without futures," Azula said. "I'm going places. This is just a distraction. I'll stop sooner or later."
A lot of comments ran through Mai's mind. She didn't immediately voice any of them. The more time she spent here, in this cramped and desolate corner of the city, breathing in smoke and surely coating her own lungs with chemicals, the more uncertain she became about the girl standing in front of her. The smirk, it seemed, was a mask. Mai was beginning to watch it peel back. She wasn't sure she wanted to see what was underneath.
Azula let the remnants of her cigarette fall and crushed it into the ground with her heel. Mai wanted to make a comment on littering, but looking at the bags of trash surrounding them made her words die in her mouth. As the smell of tobacco and smoke started to fade, the scent of filth became more and more pronounced. Mai was grateful she hadn't eaten much for breakfast.
Mai was still looking around the courtyard when Azula pulled her jacket off, held it under one arm, and proceeded to take off the shirt underneath it as well.
"Give me a warning!" Mai turned around to face the brick wall, but not before she caught a glimpse of a lacy blue bra. Was this a regular occurrence? She imagined Azula standing alone in this alley, undressing with nobody else there when anyone could walk down the street and see her. The thought made her uncomfortable in a way she couldn't quite identify.
"Sorry. I thought you might enjoy that." How Azula managed to sound both smug and disinterested at the same time, Mai would never know.
"Why would you think that?"
Azula just laughed. Mai heard the sound of a zipper opening and closing, and then the rumpling of cloth.
"So why were you following me?"
"You were obviously skipping. I was curious."
"Why aren't you in class, anyway?"
"Doctor."
"Ah. You can look now."
Mai gave a cursory glance to ensure Azula wasn't messing with her. The other girl was wearing her school uniform now, the tartan skirt and white button-down shirt Mai herself wore. Azula pulled on her jacket afterward, then reached into her bag for a bottle of perfume. Mai held her breath as Azula repeatedly sprayed herself. For a few seconds, the floral scent completely overwhelmed both the smell of tobacco and the lingering stench of shit. A few breaths and Mai's head was aching. She didn't know how Azula could stand it, but she supposed it was possible to get used to it. It was possible to get used to anything.
"Why are you still here?" Azula asked, trading out the bottle of perfume for a toothbrush and toothpaste. Mai watched with detached interest as she started brushing her teeth. It was disgusting. This whole affair was disgusting, but she couldn't look away. It was so funny how she'd ended up with a secret in her hands after all.
"Dunno. I'll walk back with you." She wasn't planning to make the offer. She didn't even really think about it. It rolled off her tongue as if it had never originated in her head.
Azula spat onto the pavement, a white splatter. Filthy. "Aren't you worried I'll get my stink on you?"
A good point. Mai imagined her mother hugging her daughter to welcome her home, breathing too deeply, and smelling perfume and tobacco on her skin. What would Michi think her daughter had been up to then? The image made her smile.
"No. Come on."
Azula led the way, swinging her bag up onto her shoulder with ease. She brushed past Mai's shoulder none too gently as the latter brought up the rear. Mai sighed, and for the first time it occurred to her whether she should tell Zuko about this. Maybe he should know his little sister was a smoker. But then again, what could he do about it? Maybe he even knew already. Probably the only person who could actually intervene was Ozai, but Mai didn't want to tell him. She thought of Zuko's fear of the man. And telling school staff would mean Azula's father would end up knowing anyway...
"Are you coming?"
Mai looked up. Azula stood at the far end of the alley, a shadowy figure with a background of light. Mai couldn't make out her expression from the distance.
Mai crossed the gap.
Despite her protests, Azula seemed willing enough to walk with Mai. The faint smirk had reasserted itself on her lips. It was strange to walk beside Azula when Mai was so intimately familiar with her brother. She saw Zuko in Azula's profile, though Azula's posture was far more confident, her stride more graceful. But their faces were similar.
"Why not heroin?" Mai said abruptly, after several seconds of silence had gone by, after they'd turned onto the main road. "Ecstasy. I don't know. Pot."
"Marijuana's disgusting. Ecstasy kills brain cells. Heroin would kill me quicker...And they're all illegal."
"But you'd get the high. Smoking doesn't do that."
"Are you an expert on drugs now?" Azula's tone was derisive, mocking. Mai's knuckles clenched hard around the handle of her bag.
"Never mind."
"Do you want the high? I'm sure you can get yourself some ecstasy. It'll be great publicity for your father's campaign when you die of overdose."
"I said never mind."
"Just imagine it! Mommy's been distracted with your little brother all afternoon, but then it's dinnertime, so she calls and calls and nobody responds. They start without you, thinking Mai's just being her usual sullen self, but eventually they realize something's wrong. Mommy comes to your room, opens your door, and finds her poor little daughter dead on the floor with a needle in her arm. She screams and cries, and Daddy comes running, and they're both so sad."
"I thought ecstasy came in pills?"
"And Zuzu! He'd be so heartbroken. If you were going to die, at least you should have gone together, like Romeo and Juliet! That'd make the news. There would be a big funeral. I guess I would go. And then in a month or two, your parents would focus all their attention on their son, and you'd be nothing more than some ashes."
"Do you play this game with Ty Lee?" Mai couldn't imagine it. Azula's only friend was a volleyball player known for her ability to contort her body into freakish poses. Ty Lee was bubbly, cheerful, and outgoing, seemingly the polar opposite of the girl walking at Mai's side.
"It upsets her."
"Were you trying to upset me?"
"Just having fun." Azula smiled. Her eyes were very cold.
Class didn't go well that day. Mai was a good student, generally, when she bothered to put in any effort, but today she was distracted. Her mind was a long way away. She thought her skin still smelled faintly of cigarette smoke, though maybe it was just her imagination. She replayed the conversation over and over again in her head as if trying to solve a puzzle for which she had no instructions. Azula had said her father probably knew she was a smoker, which made it sound as if she hadn't told him herself. So maybe there was still a chance that Mai could use it against her, threaten to tell Ozai unless Azula got her father to endorse Mai's.
The only problem was that Azula was a liar, according to Zuko, and she didn't seem like the type of person who'd easily go along with blackmail. Mai didn't know if it was even worth the effort. If she did this for her parents, they would forget soon enough. Then there'd be a new demand, and another, and another.
As she sat through the day, one foot tapping impatiently, a single bit of conversation from that morning stuck in her mind.
I won't turn forty.
At least they weren't in the same class, so Mai didn't have to see Azula again. On her way to cram school, she made her slow way back to the train station. Across the street she recognized the place where she'd seen Azula walked earlier. She couldn't stop thinking about it.
When she was done with cram school, it was already dark. The sun had long since disappeared behind the horizon. Mai stood alone on the train and watched the city flash by. She was tired, though it was only Monday. She wouldn't see Zuko until the weekend, probably. She still had five long days to pass until she could see him, feel the weight lift ever so slightly from her shoulders.
Did other people feel like this? Did Azula feel like this? Mai wondered whether smoking would help. It just seemed like another inconvenient distraction, something unnecessarily harmful in a world already full of unnecessary things. If she wanted to die, she would do it quickly, not draw it out with tobacco clogging her lungs.
I won't turn forty.
Sooner or later it would get better. Maybe next year, when she was away from her parents. For now all she needed to do was focus on every day. Life wasn't overwhelming if she only looked at it from one second to the next.
Her stop. She watched her legs move her out onto the platform and continue their automatic journey toward her house. It was fully dark now. Streetlights flickered into brightness. This was one of the quieter, more peaceful neighborhoods of Kyoto. There was still the sound of people and cars, but also the wind in the trees. Mai's family was well-off enough to afford a stand-alone house, shining with light amidst the peaceful dark.
"I'm home," she called when safely in the entryway.
"Welcome home," her mother's voice responded from somewhere in the house. Mai sighed, pulled off her shoes, and headed for her room. She was intercepted in the large living room by her brother.
"Mai!" He toddled over to her and hugged her legs. She smiled down at him and boosted him up with one arm. He patted her face with his small hand. His happiness was contagious. He was the apple of their parents' eyes, seemingly able to do no wrong. From what Mai remembered of her childhood, they were far more lenient with him. It didn't really matter to her. She would rather Tom-Tom had an indulgent childhood than one where anything but the correct behavior was quickly and sternly punished.
"How was your day?" she asked quietly. He was heavy.
"I shopped with Mommy," he said.
"Is that so?" She brushed some strands of fine dark hair out of his eyes. He really was overdue for a haircut, unless he was aiming to emulate his sister's bangs.
"How was your English test?" Michi asked, appearing out of the kitchen with an apron tied around her waist. She reached out her hands for Tom-Tom. Mai reluctantly gave up her brother, who went to his mother's grip without complaint.
"Fine," Mai said. English was relatively easy for her. The only stumbling block there had been the pervasive distraction of that morning's events.
"And the doctor? Nothing wrong?"
"Just got a vaccine updated. Fine otherwise."
"Your father's coming home early tonight, so we'll be eating then." Michi gave her son a kiss and smiled at him, eliciting a giggle from the child. "Get to work on your homework."
"Yes, Mom." Mai left the two alone. Once in her room she peeled off her socks and collapsed onto her bed. She had even less motivation than usual to open her textbooks. The invisible weight of unhappiness pressed down strongly. More than anything else, she just wanted to close her eyes for a little bit. She picked up her cell phone and called Zuko, but there was no response. He was probably a lot busier than she was anyway. It was selfish to distract him too much.
The light blurred above her. She was tired. The evening stretched before her, infinite in its monotony, and beyond that her future. She blinked, but the light continued to be blurry. It occurred to Mai that something was wrong with her.
Her parents called her for dinner and roused her from a nap she hadn't intended to take. When she glanced in the mirror, Mai saw that her eyes were puffy and red. Maybe she was getting sick. Maybe it was just winter coming.
"We're thinking about Hokkaido for winter break," Michi announced over dinner. Mai's silence here went as unnoticed as it did at school. Everywhere, it seemed, she was little more than a shadow, watching but not interacting, listening but not speaking. "It'll be good to get away for a little while, and we can see your grandparents, Mai."
"How long?" Mai asked.
"The whole two weeks, probably. Your father will come join us on the weekends."
"...Can I stay here?" Hokkaido, Kyoto, it didn't matter. The scenery wouldn't ease Mai's insistent lethargy. What she needed was to spend time with Zuko, the only person who made her feel remotely better. If she went, it would only lead to endless pointed looks from her mother when she failed to show adequate emotion to anything.
"Don't you want to see your grandparents?" Michi frowned.
"Iroh's going to Europe. I need to keep Zuko company." Mai felt a little bit guilty about using her boyfriend as an excuse.
Michi looked toward her husband. Ukano shrugged.
"She's responsible."
Michi's lips grew very thin, but she didn't argue the point further. Mai hated upsetting her mother. The victory was hers, but it didn't feel like it. She kept eating with her head down and her gaze focused on her plate.
The week went on. It was colder than it should have been, colder than Kyoto had been in past autumns. Mai went to school, then to cram school, and did her homework. The rhythm seemed even more monotonous than usual. Her memories of the conversation with Azula and the illusory scent of cigarette smoke were already slipping away. She looked forward to the weekend, to seeing Zuko, and beyond that to winter break.
On Friday afternoon, Mai was sweeping the classroom when she saw Azula walk past in the hallway. She set the broom down and grabbed her bag as if in a trance. Mai ignored the inquiring glances of her classmates and left the room. She didn't know why she followed her. Maybe it was the desperate attempt to reassure herself that the conversation had really happened.
Azula walked with purpose down the stairs, never glancing around. In contrast, Mai constantly checked behind her, walking as quietly as possible to make sure she wasn't heard. She had never left school early before. She wondered if she had saved all her small rebellions for the last few months of school before she went off to college. Small insurgencies didn't really matter, she told herself. It wasn't an issue until her parents found out. Still, she didn't know why she felt like throwing caution to the wind. Azula certainly wasn't worth it.
After retrieving her shoes, Azula marched outside and down the road. Mai followed, always keeping a good distance, certain that sooner or later Azula would notice her or someone from the school would call her back. At first she'd thought Azula might just be going home early, but there was no waiting car. Instead she continued to stroll down the street, her bag hanging loosely from one arm. She was headed for the train station, Mai realized. Did she take the train home like the rest of them?
Mai was beginning to feel that this was an idiotic venture, but at the same time she didn't have any decent reason to stop. She followed Azula through the crowd of people leaving the station, up the stairs, and past the shops. Azula didn't head for the tracks, though. She disappeared into the bathroom. Mai ducked into the supermarket and waited amongst the produce, feeling more and more ridiculous with each passing second.
When Azula emerged, she was no longer wearing her school uniform, but the same shirt and pants she'd been wearing the first time Mai found her smoking. She walked with the same purpose, heading straight past the glass windows of the supermarket. Mai didn't expect her to look around, but as if Azula felt she was being observed, her head turned. Those bright eyes caught Mai's, and a second later she was smiling. She changed her path, heading for the door. Mai, resigned to the inevitable, walked to meet her.
"Are you following me again?"
Mai said nothing. She pressed her lips together and kept her face still. The answer was probably obvious nonetheless. What else would she be doing?
"If you want a cigarette, all you have to do is ask." Azula turned and began walking. When Mai didn't immediately follow, Azula turned around and raised an eyebrow. Mai followed her then.
"I don't."
"Are you going to give me a reason today?"
"I was bored. I wondered what you were doing."
"You couldn't guess?" Azula didn't head for the trains, but for the first level of the building. The vending machines were there, set back into an alcove, snacks and drinks and...cigarettes. Azula produced a card from her bag and fed it into the machine. A few seconds later, a pack slid out the bottom. She retrieved it with deft fingers.
"How'd you get that card? You're underage."
"I've got a fake ID."
"Doesn't your father watch your purchases?" They were walking again, slipping through the doors to the station and outside into the cool autumn air again. School was letting out. They were surrounded by children and teenagers wearing uniforms, heading for the trains, heading for home. The two of them pushed against the tide. When they approached a relatively calm side street, Azula pulled a pack of matches from her pocket and lit up. Mai started coughing, getting a lungful of the white smoke.
"No. I can do what I like. If it started smelling too bad, he'd probably find a way to cut me off, though." Azula shrugged. "Why are you so interested in my bad habit?"
"I don't know. You seemed smarter than that."
Azula gave a laugh that dissolved into a cough. Mai watched the light of the setting sun reflect in her dark hair. Were her lips ever unpainted? Did she wake up in the morning with a coat of red already there?
"I know exactly what I'm doing to myself. I tend not to do things just for the hell of it. That's more of Zuko's area of expertise. I suppose I should thank you for not telling him, by the way."
"I do what I can." People flowed around them as they walked past buildings and shops. The sun was sinking lower in the sky.
It occurred to Mai that she liked talking to Azula. Maybe the person wasn't important, though. Maybe it was just talking to anyone at all. Even with the scent of cigarette smoke far too heavy in her nose, the invisible pressure on her shoulders had lifted somewhat.
"What do you see in Zuzu anyway?" Azula asked.
"He makes me happy," Mai answered automatically.
"Are you happy, then?"
Mai moved her lips to answer, but the word stayed inside of her. She stopped walking, and a few steps ahead Azula stopped too, one eyebrow cocked inquisitively. Mai didn't really notice. She stared down at the pavement and bit her lip. She didn't want to think about it, but she wasn't happy. She hadn't been happy in a long, long time.
The realization shouldn't have come as a surprise, but she felt stunned by it nonetheless. Her lips kept moving, searching for the right words. She just needed to push everything down, continue to lock whatever she felt away, and she would be fine. If she didn't think about it, it didn't hurt. She just needed not to think about it. Sooner or later, it would go away.
There was pressure in her eyes. Shit. She didn't want to cry. This was idiotic. None of this would have happened if she'd just stayed at the school and gone home when she was supposed to.
Azula's fingers were cool when they wrapped around Mai's hand. Mai looked up then. The sunlight was bright enough to make her blink, and it was then that tears slipped down her cheeks. She squinted in a half-baked attempt to conserve her dignity.
"A no would have been fine." Azula was smiling. Anger rose inside of Mai, and she ripped her hand away and kept walking. She didn't want to think about these things, and she hated Azula for making her. She wanted to close her eyes and slip back into the peaceful numbness to which she'd become accustomed. She didn't want to disturb routine, to try new things, to have to confront anything about herself. She was fine where she landed as long as she didn't think too hard.
"I mean, I figured as much. Happy people don't tend to cut themselves open." Azula caught up easily. Her smile wasn't as broad, but there was still a hint of a smirk around the edges of her lips. Mai looked away.
"Do you know from experience?" Her tone was sharper than usual.
Azula didn't answer, just tapping her cigarette to scatter the ashes into the wind before taking another long draw. Mai imagined tar building up on the inside of her lungs, filling them up, suffocating her. One day Azula wouldn't be able to breathe any longer.
There was a park up ahead. Mai wondered if Azula had deliberately been leading her toward it. The grass and trees were a pleasant break from the buildings, and the red leaves were pretty. When Azula seated herself on a park bench, Mai was not too reluctant to join her.
"I don't suppose you talk to your parents," Azula said.
"They don't care. If anything, Dad would worry it would mess with his image. They leave me alone as long as I don't rock the boat."
"Were they upset to discover you were cutting?"
"Mom cried. She said she felt like a horrible mother." Mai stared down at her hands. She didn't know why she was telling Azula this, things she had never even told Zuko.
Then it occurred to her—she didn't tell Zuko because she didn't want him to worry about her. She had no such reservations about the girl sitting beside her. She didn't think Azula even cared, apart from hearing an interesting story.
"That almost sounds like an apology."
"It wasn't. She never really apologizes."
"Neither does Father."
Mai glanced sharply to the side, but Azula's face was disengaged as she blew out a mouthful of white smoke. Mai watched it drift upward and dissipate. She wondered what it would feel like to breathe out a cloud of smoke, to kill herself slowly. Part of her longed to try it. She told herself she shouldn't. She gripped her hands very tightly together in her lap.
She thought of Zuko. "He has a lot to apologize for."
"Oh? Does my brother say that?"
Mai frowned. "Of course not. He still...he wants to make him happy. I don't know why. He should forget him. He'd be so much happier."
"You do know why, though." Mai turned, the half-formed question already on her lips. "You're still trying to please your parents, aren't you?"
"It's different." Mai was remembering having almost this exact conversation with Zuko. It frustrated her. Maybe the siblings were more similar than she'd thought at first. The only difference was that being around Zuko made her happy, whereas being in Azula's company...well, it had already brought her to tears for the first time in months.
"Zuko's probably worse than you, though. It's like an obsession with him. It's so adorable, and so pathetic. He's like a little lost sheep."
"It's not stupid to hope." Mai didn't like hearing Zuko insulted, especially not by this cold girl.
"Oh, in his case it is. He's delusional. Father will never give him what he wants, and it's so obvious to everybody except Zuko." Azula sighed and stretched her arms upward. She tossed the cigarette away, letting it land carelessly on the pavement. Mai stared down at it. "People see what they want to see, I suppose."
"Like how you think you can stop smoking if you want?"
"Oh, but I can. Just like you can stop being sad whenever you want. It's very simple, you know?"
Mai looked at her, uncomprehending. Azula was smiling again, but it didn't reach her eyes. She raised one hand, held out her thumb and index finger, and pretended to shoot herself through the head. Mai's lip curled.
"See? Easy," Azula said, still smiling.
"I have cram school," Mai said. She stood and grabbed her bag. This had all been a huge waste of time. She had ended up worse than when she had started. She deserved it for indulging a stupid whim. The girl sitting beside her was sick.
"All right." Azula stood too. They looked at each other for a second, and then Mai turned. Before she could take a step, Azula grabbed her arm, just like she had just back in the restaurant bathroom. This time, though, she didn't press her cold fingers to Mai's shoulder. She leaned in and pressed her lips against Mai's.
It took approximately a second for Mai to realize what was happening, and then she shoved Azula away. The other girl was laughing. It incensed Mai. How dare she?
"Don't ever touch me again," she snarled, then spun on her heel and strode out of the park, down the city streets, heading for the nearest station. Anger fueled her every step. She angrily wiped her lips on the back of her hand and realized the stench and taste of cigarettes lingered on her mouth. It would take forever to get it off.
"Mai! Up!" Tom-Tom demanded, tugging at her skirt.
"Not now," she murmured, running her fingers through his black hair. She wanted to disappear into her room and hide, compose her thoughts, before—
"Welcome home!" Too late. There was Michi, emerging from the kitchen, her arms spread wide to embrace her. Mai tried to turn away, but her mother engulfed her in a hug, and then there was no hiding any longer. Mai had washed out her mouth, washed her face, hoped that the time at cram school would get rid of the stench. But unlike Azula, she didn't bring a change of clothes to hide the smell of cigarettes.
After barely a second, Michi pulled back. The lack of a smile on her lips made it evident that she'd caught on. Mai stared evenly back at her mother, refusing to give up anything without being asked.
"Why do you smell like you've been smoking?" Michi demanded. "My God, Mai, have you been? What's wrong with you? You know how unladylike that is. This isn't what your father needs."
"It wasn't me," Mai said. She didn't know why she bothered. Her parents would draw their own conclusions regardless of her input. She thought about telling the truth, probably worse than her mother's imaginings. I spent a while with a girl who smokes, and then she kissed me. Her mother would probably have a heart attack. That was exactly the sort of publicity that her father would find hard to explain away. Forget Zuko, that she had a boyfriend.
Rebellion, hot and angry, coursed through Mai's veins. What did it matter? Why was it her responsibility to ensure her father's career didn't crash and burn? What was the point of doing anything at all if her parents always assumed the worst?
"That's likely! Why do your clothes smell so horrid then? Get them off. Now I have more washing to do! I can't believe how selfish you can be."
Tom-Tom, down on the floor between them, raised his arms and continued to beg to be picked up. Michi reached down and snatched up her son as if afraid Mai would do it first.
"I'll wash them myself."
"No, you won't. Go change before dinner. I'm not telling your father about this. He has enough to worry him. But Mai, if I catch you smelling like this again, you will be punished. I knew we should have kept a closer eye on you. Maybe you need to be escorted to school. Is that it?"
"You're overreacting," Mai said. Her voice was flat. She was done with this conversation. Still, in some sick way, she was glad she'd ended up getting caught. Perhaps her mother would see now that she wasn't her doll. She could do what she liked. What did it matter as long as she didn't ruin her parents' plans for her future? It didn't matter even if she had smoked a thousand cigarettes. They didn't care about her. They just cared about image. "I'll wash up better next time."
Michi's eyes flashed. "Don't speak back to me, Mai. Go to your room, now."
"I'm sorry." Mai turned and brought her bag with her. The smell of cigarettes lingered around her, a reminder of a girl with cold eyes and a hard laugh who pantomimed putting a gun to her head and pulling the trigger.