Avatar: The Last Airbender & Characters © Michael Dante DiMartino & Bryan Konietzko
I do not own anything, and this is just for fun.
A/N: I'm trying a bit of a different writing style than I'm normally used to with this one, but anywho, this is a maiko piece that is just going to be little snippets from different times in their life. It probably won't be very long, either.
Zuko hates playing with Azula and her friends. The way she speaks to their mother infuriates him. She elicits the desired response, forcing him to join in her game. Forcing him because Zuko cannot—will not—say no to his mother, no matter how much he hates playing with Azula and her friends.
He doesn't hide his indignation, expressing it in the angry slant of his eyebrows and the stubborn jut of his pouting mouth. Azula displays that snide grin she hides in their mother's presence, and he just knows she's laughing at him. In that moment he thinks he hates his sister. But he's still a child, and hate is only a nasty word.
He shifts his gaze to Ty Lee, who is annoyingly sanguine with her wide, pretty eyes and her playful smiles. She sidesteps towards him and elbows his arm affectionately. He groans and looks over at the third one, the quiet one. Their eyes meet for a second, before her gaze falls to the ground. He feels his expression falter, and suddenly he isn't so angry anymore. He decides in that moment that Mai is his favorite of Azula's friends. She never laughs when Azula torments him, and he likes that about her.
Immediately after anger, he feels disinterest—whatever game Azula has planned is sure to bore him, he thinks. He is wrong, of course. The game is a cruel one, but the target is Mai instead of him for a change, and his heart begins to race when the apple stem catches fire. Horrified for her safety, he sprints forward to knock the ablaze apple from her head—but realizes his overeager stride only too late, as he collides with her slim, feather-light figure, and sends both of them into the fountain with a startled yelp.
He looks down at her, relieved to see that her hair isn't burnt. There is an expression of contained rage on her face, and he mistakenly thinks she is looking at him. Embarrassment seizes him, and suddenly he is angry once more. He gets up quickly, without offering to help her up, and strides from the garden. Girls are irritating, and also confusing.
Her face burns with humiliation. Mai wonders if she will ever get over this embarrassment. She will, with time, but right now she feels as though this is the worst thing that could have ever happened. She remembers sounding stupid when she cried out, having realized he was going to run into her. Her face feels even warmer.
She glances at Azula, who is positively tickled with glee. Mai feels the resentment boil in her gut, and she wants nothing more than to explode. Instead all she manages is a half-sentence, something to get her point across—Azula acts as though she doesn't care, and Mai doesn't know why she expected anything else. Ursa approaches the pond and offers her a hand out. Mai looks sheepish, as she allows the Fire Lady to help her out of her predicament. She misses the threatening glare Azula gives her.
Ursa looks apologetic, but says nothing as she sweeps Azula into the main house to peruse whatever letters General Iroh has sent them. Ty Lee is at her side the moment Azula disappears from sight, slipping an arm around the sulking girl's shoulders. Mai recoils from the embrace.
"I'm sorry, Mai."
It is not entirely sincere. There is that simplistic, blissful indifference in her tone—indifference towards the things Azula says and does. Things Mai seems to have difficulty accepting sometimes. Mai knows it was wrong of her to expect Ty Lee to do anything about it. She shrugs, and her shoulders feel heavy in her wet robes.
"It's all right." She still feels self-conscious, so she adds quietly, "Do you think he's mad at me?"
Ty Lee laughs a different laugh than before, one that isn't directed at her misery. Already Mai feels a little reassured, though also a little nervous. She had always admired Zuko from a comfortable, respectful distance, but just then he had rushed towards her recklessly—clumsily crashing through any personal boundaries that had been constructed between them. She is afraid to hope that he had been sincerely concerned for her safety. She is also afraid that someday he will be disappointing like so many other things in her life. She hopes anyways.