Zuko closes the heavy steel door behind him and steps toward the bars of his father's...cell? No. He would not allow a cell to be wasted on a monster like Ozai.
He stepped toward his father's cage.
"What do you want?" The former Phoenix King's throat is dry and hoarse, his voice unwilling to project after years of stale prison food and water with the flavor of rocks.
"Azula hasn't improved," he takes a breath and pinches the bridge of his nose, "and I want you to speak with her. I know I'll regret it, but if we don't get through to her she'll end up getting herself killed, or killing herself, or just staying like this until she dies naturally. She spent her entire life trying to please you. She thinks that she failed. If you tell her otherwise, maybe she'll come back to life and be less...crazy."
Ozai stands, turning to face Zuko. His greasy hair is too long and hangs down around his dirty face, no longer held in a topknot by a crown. The once-ruler is dressed in rags that smell too human.
He smirks.
"Why are you, great Fire Lord, suddenly so concerned with your sister's well-being?" Zuko's nostrils flare as Ozai's fingers wrap around the bars, scabbed knuckles brushing against his scar. Their eyes narrow harshly at each other.
"Unlike you, I know the value of family." Ozai's smirk returns as he swings away from the bars and saunters to the other end of the cage.
"That would explain the lovely amenities I am provided, hmm?" Zuko doesn't reply.
"Will you speak to her or not?" His father halts abruptly, feet falling into places of stability and arms locking behind his back. The stance wafts an air of authority that he doesn't have.
"Fine."
Sunlight streams through the windows of the lobby; the sky is clear and bright. A nurse scribbles something onto a piece of parchment before gesturing for the guards to follow her. For Ozai to follow her.
The hallway of the asylum is stark white; his eyes burn after spending so much time in dank darkness. Distraught giggling or abstract screaming emerge from every few doorways they pass; the nurse ignores every cry, save for sending a nearby assistant in if one is available.
They turn three times to the right before stopping at the end of a hallway. The room is isolated and silent.
"Fire Lord Zuko has assured me that Ozai will not harm her. You two can remain in the hallway. I will return when time is up." The nurse leaves and Ozai is pushed into the room. The door slams behind him.
His daughter is staring blankly out the window. Her hair is brushed free of tangles and hangs loosely around her head. Her back is straight and her hands are folded neatly in her lap. Her face is clear and free of the menacing makeup he had become to accustomed to seeing her in. She looks like she did as a child.
Innocent.
Azula turns when she hears his footsteps. Her eyes register surprise; the expression does not leave her face, but she remains silent.
"Azula."
She blinks once and turns back to the window. Ozai registers a faint sound as muttered words flutter past her lips.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
"It is unfitting for a princess to mumble, Azula." Unfitting for royalty to apologize.
She shakes her head and stares further into the distance.
"Monster, I was a monster, evil, such a horrible monster."
"You are not a monster."
Her hair tosses as she shakes her head again.
"Mother saw it, mother saw the monster."
He cannot claim otherwise. Ursa had seen the warlord inside of this fragile, broken girl long before that creature would come into play.
But Ozai had seen something else. Someone else. He saw the flicker of compassion deep behind her molten gold eyes and tried desperately to smother it before it grew into a flame. An action he failed to do in his son.
He saw Ursa in her and he hated it.
"You are like your mother in some ways, Azula."
A broken child panicking when she loses track of her father in a palace that dwarfs her. A fragile girl shrieking when the tongue of a stray flame licks at her palms. A jealous sister watching her brother be loved.
A terrified coward crying in his arms during a lightning storm.
"She hated me." Her words are no longer muttered, but they shatter the moment they touch the air.
"She loves you."
"You hate me." Not a mutter or a shard of speech; just a whisper. A breath.
"I love you." Azula falls to her knees, clinging to the thick white drapes.
"I failed. I am a disappointment. I am no better than–"
"You have never disappointed me, Azula."
And she cries. Held by the arms of her father and the silent words of her invisible mother, Azula falls further into the broken shell that she is allowed to be.
Abrupt endings ftw. I've always really wanted to see this scene because I don't think anyone other than Ozai would ever be able to get through to Azula. She spent her entire life trying to please him; quite frankly, I don't think she gives a damn about what anyone else wants of her. Probably even of what she wants of herself, if that makes sense.
And I believe that Ozai is a big teddy bear on the inside. So.