It wasn't the first time he'd felt pity for his sister, but tonight was the first time he'd ever seen genuine sadness in those normally devious eyes. My own mother thought I was a monster. For years he'd told her she was a monster and she'd just laughed at him, she hadn't cared about their mother's disappearance.
He took a deep breath and knocked on her door.
"Azula?" he whispered. She came to the door, her hair in a messy ponytail, and rolled her eyes.
"Zuzu, if you still need to whine about betraying Uncle Fatso-"
"It's not that," he said. "Listen, it's about Ember Island, what you said about our mother."
"Oh, that." She shrugged. "I was just going along with the crowd, it didn't mean anything."
Zuko sighed, of course she would say something like that. It was just like Azula to pretend, after all, even as a little girl when someone brought up a moment of her weakness she'd make a big joke of it, call them crazy or insist they were dreaming.
Still, whether or not she meant it she still deserved to know what he'd come to tell her.
"She never thought you were a monster," he said. "Mother loved you, Azula, she loved you with all her heart." He absently reached up to brush a strand of hair away from her face. "You just didn't let her."
He saw her twitch, and that look of sadness return to her eyes.
"...Zuzu, you're interrupting my beauty sleep. Get out," she snapped. Zuko nodded, stepping back before she could slam the door in his face.
"Goodnight, Azula." The door slammed, and he slipped back down the corridor to his room. You don't let anyone love you, and soon it'll be too late.