A/N: Thanks for the reviews, everyone! To Gundleer: Azula is definitely feeling frustrated, and in this chapter we'll see her try to find a way out of her situation. To Guest: I will be exploring the psychological aspect of Azula's situation in this story, but it won't be the sole focus of her journey, as she will soon figure out that there are multiple aspects to a single issue.

I hope you enjoy the chapter!

4. Extended Stay

When Azula woke up the next morning, she opened her eyes into darkness and felt her eyelashes brush against a piece of cloth. A scream rose up in her throat, but just as she jerked up to let it out, someone hastily untied a knot at the back of her head and pulled the blindfold off, revealing the brightly-lit bedroom. Nira's face appeared in front of her. "Oops! Sorry, honey. It's past ten in the morning, so we went ahead and turned on the lights. I decided to blindfold you so it wouldn't bother you."

Azula blinked her eyes. Mira stalked by at that moment, carrying a stack of freshly-laundered towels. "We should've just woken her up. She's already late for physical therapy." She placed the towels into a cabinet and left the room.

Nira unstrapped Azula from the bed and removed the IV tubes that were in her arms. Then she lifted Azula to her feet, handed her the red jumpsuit and shoes from the day before, and guided her out of the room by the arm. Kira met them in the hallway, and the two nurses steered Azula to the right, into a small bathroom with a mirror and sink. Nira closed the door, while Kira took the jumpsuit from Azula's hands and started to fold it out.

"All right, honey, let's get you dressed."

But Azula snatched the garment from the nurse's hands. "I can do it myself!" she snarled. "Now if you two lout-heads don't mind."

Nira nodded brightly. "Oh, of course! Come on, Kira, let's give her some space." She quickly stepped out of the bathroom and Kira followed suit. Just before the door closed behind them, Kira poked her head out. "We'll be right here if you need us, honey."

Azula gritted her teeth and pushed the door closed the rest of the way. Enjoying some semblance of imagined privacy, she began to change. The jumpsuit did fit her well, though the color reminded her a little of what the prisoners had worn at the Boiling Rock. Azula slipped on the shoes, grateful at least to be free from touching the cold floor with her bare feet, and left the room.

"I'm done," she announced, harshly biting out the words. Nira and Kira smiled at her.

"Great! Now let's have some breakfast." Kira took her by the arm again and steered her back into the bedroom. She sat Azula down into the wheelchair, ignoring the straps, and placed a tray of rice porridge and vegetables onto her lap. But before giving her the chopsticks, Kira brought forth a bottle of purple liquid and poured some out into a teaspoon. She brought the spoon to Azula's mouth and Azula flinched back.

"What is that?"

"This is the serum that suppresses your firebending," Kira said. "You'll have to take it every morning by spoon now. And don't try to wheedle out of it — either you take it yourself orally, or we start injecting it intravenously again and keep you in straps all day."

Azula grumbled, but took the spoon from Kira and gulped down the liquid. It tasted absolutely like nothing, but the viscous, almost gelatinous texture nearly made her gag. In a matter of seconds after swallowing, Azula felt her pulse quicken, and the familiar, leaden heaviness settle into her limbs. Her heart thumped. "What is this? What are you doing to me?" She looked around at the nurses in alarm. "You're poisoning me!"

"We're not poisoning you," Kira said. "Lethargy is just a side effect. It'll go away in a couple hours, once your body gets accustomed to it. But look on the bright side — at least you have the freedom to move around."

Nira, who had begun to rummage through the bookshelf, looked over her shoulder and nodded. "Yeah, and you won't have to sleep with those annoying straps anymore either. Because we'll use this!" She turned all the way around and showed Azula a pair of handcuffs attached to a long chain. She unlocked them with a small key, and hooked one of the cuffs around the bar of the bed. "Don't worry, this doesn't mean you're our prisoner or anything. It's just a little reminder for you not to run off wild. And trust me, it'll beat having your lungs crushed every night! I actually asked Mira to put me in a bed like this once, just to see what it was like, and I was sore for hours. It was horrible! She did it a bit tight, though; we tried to keep yours as loose as possible, since—"

"Okay!" Kira lowered her arm on Azula's shoulder. "We'd love to chat with you, Nira, but we have to go. Dee's going to get impatient."

Nira nodded and waved. "All right, have fun!"

Kira wheeled Azula out into the hallway at that point, turning right. They coasted past the familiar rows of doors, and due to her more heightened degree of awareness this time, Azula noticed that there was a middle door as well, which would have divided the wing into two sections if it had been closed. She looked ahead at the distant section of the hallway, trying to glean as many of its details as she could, but she only had time to see the same rows of closed doors and dead end before she was turned and wheeled into the physical therapist's room. Dee awaited them behind her desk as before, and once Kira had parked the wheelchair, the therapist hoisted Azula to her feet and guided her towards a floor mat.

"Okay. We're going to start off with relaxation. I want you to lie down, make your body completely flat, and close your eyes. Focus on your breath."

"That should be easy, right?" Kira put in.

Azula gave her a death-glare. But Dee dimmed the lights moments later and sat back behind her desk. "Come on. Let's get started."

Azula lowered herself onto the mat, feeling the leaden weight of her own body pulling her down. Kira did not leave the room, but closed the door and settled into the chair in front of Dee's desk. She crossed her legs and gave a sigh.

"Mm. This should be relaxing!"

"No talking, please," said Dee. "And I want eyes closed," she said to Azula.

Azula grumbled and closed her eyes.

For a minute or so, she focused on her breaths, but over time her attention shifted further inward to check in with the heaviness. The sensation, which had started out in her muscles, had spread itself out through her entire body and was beginning to thin out. Azula found it slightly easier to move when she discreetly lifted her arms from the ground. But the serum hadn't deactivated - rather, it seemed to have progressed somewhere deeper, and was now slowing down some smooth, continuous flowing of energy inside of her. Hazarding a guess at what was happening, Azula tried to make fire from her hands. The current stirred with a sluggish hum, as if some internal motor were trying to rev itself up, sending some slow, tangible signals to her palms. But the exhaustion rushed back in a matter of seconds and she was forced to stop. Azula could hardly believe it. She was feeling the flow of her chi. The serum was slowing it down to a crawl, but almost as if in compensation, the flow was becoming more and more noticeable to her. For a while, Azula simply lay there, paying attention to it.

A clock ticked away on Dee's desk, and for a long time, the only other noise was the rustle of paper. Azula gradually grew bored and began to daydream, then dozed off and began to dream for real, before suddenly jerking awake, her heart hammering in brief panic. She cracked open an eye. Kira seemed to have fallen asleep, and Dee was still working beneath a shaded desk lamp. Azula lowered her head again. She quietly went through a few more cycles of dozing and wakening, before Dee finally squinted at her table clock and stood up. "All right, that's enough for today. You can get up now. But take it slowly; you might feel dizzy."

Azula rolled herself over onto her side and pushed herself up. She did feel slightly dizzy, but as she stood up, it faded, and she found that she felt a bit more like the earlier-morning version of herself. Kira sat her down into the wheelchair again, thankfully forgoing the straps, and wheeled her out of the room. But instead of taking her back to the bedroom, she turned to the right again, and pushed open a door on the other side of the hallway. This room had the size and furnishings of a classroom, with a large wooden desk in front of a blackboard, some bookshelves, and another plain table in the back. But there was only one writing desk in the center. Kira parked Azula's wheelchair behind it, right next to a group of potted plants along the wall.

Azula scowled. "And what's this supposed to be, gardening class?"

"No. This is where you'll have mind therapy." Kira closed the door and went to the bookshelf near the desk, where she began to look through the folders and boxes. "Dr. Low has recommended that you start slowly, by doing activities that will calm you throughout the day. Even I find that when I'm stressed, it's nice to retreat to a hobby or craft I like to do to help me relax. What kinds of things are you interested in, Azula?"

Azula didn't answer.

Kira opened a box of paper. "Do you like to draw?"

Azula kept silent.

"Or perhaps paint?"

Azula looked away.

Kira sighed. "Maybe this will help. What did you spend most of your time doing on a daily basis when you lived in the palace?"

"I never had time for stupid childish games," Azula snapped. "I was too busy preparing to rule the country!"

"And what kinds of hobbies did you occupy yourself with while you were doing that?" Kira continued. "Did you stitch, perhaps?"

"I firebended! I trained with the best tutors in the Fire Nation!"

"Writing? Collecting?"

"Helping plan strategies for the military!"

"Reading?"

"Walking by ranks of soldiers and if their stances were off by the slightest margin, I had the authority to take them out of line and punish them!"

Kira paused, looking down at Azula with pursed lips. Azula smirked back.

Kira sighed. She pulled up a stool and sat down across from Azula's desk, folding her hands in her lap. "All right. So, from what I can tell, you spent most of your time preparing yourself for a life of official duty. There's nothing wrong with that. But that's not all what life is about, right? No matter how demanding your schedule is, you have to make time for yourself. So that's what we're going to do here. Make time for ourselves."

Azula rolled her eyes.

Kira got some paper and a pencil from the shelves and scooted her chair closer to Azula. "All right. We're going to play one of my favorite games. It goes like this: I name an object, and you draw it. Do it however you want. No constraints whatsoever." She placed the paper and pencil in front of Azula and tapped her chin. "Let's see. Draw me a… tree."

Azula just stared at the nurse as if she were a moron, but after a few seconds she realized that Kira was actually serious and wouldn't leave her alone until she got a response. With a frustrated sigh, Azula grabbed the pencil and drew a box-like trunk with reedy branches. She pushed the drawing at Kira.

"Good job!" The nurse smiled and flipped the paper over. "All right, your turn. What do you want me to draw?"

"A map of where we are."

Kira smiled wryly. "That was clever, honey, but it won't fly. I need a concrete object."

Azula crossed her arms. "A statement of my release, then."

Kira pursed her lips. "All right. I'll think of something myself. You tell me what it looks like when I'm done."

She bent over the paper and began to draw. Azula crossed her arms and looked at the blank blackboard.

Right then, the door opened. Azula's eyes immediately flew over to it, and she nearly did a double-take when she saw Dr. Low step into the room. He was holding a clipboard and pen. Kira looked up at him, but he waved for her to continue, and went to sit down at the back table. The doctor placed the clipboard into his lap and began to write something down, his military uniform a splotch of maroon against the bleak wall. He might as well have just come from the palace.

Azula narrowed her eyes at him. "What are you doing here?"

Dr. Low looked up at her, but instead of responding he lowered his gaze to the clipboard again.

"All done!" Kira held up the paper, showing a picture of a basket. "What is this?"

Azula kept her gaze fixed on Dr. Low, who was still looking at his clipboard. She gripped the handles of her wheelchair. "What are you writing? I didn't even do anything, and you're analyzing me already?"

Kira reached for Azula's shoulder. "Come on, honey, focus. The doctor's just here to see how things are going."

"No!" Azula swatted Kira's hand away and looked back at Dr. Low. "I know what you're doing. You're recording my answers so you'll know how to crack me!"

Dr. Low looked up at her again.

"Well it's not going to work!" Azula said. "Because I'm not going to say anything! Not to your stupid nurses, and especially not to you!"

"Azula, please. Concentrate." Kira held up the drawing. "If this doesn't interest you, all you have to do is tell me and we'll do something else."

Azula continued to glare at Dr. Low, seething with anger. The doctor held her gaze, then almost casually dropped it back to the clipboard. Azula dug her nails into the pad of the armrests.

From behind, she heard Kira put the paper down. "Fine. We'll do something else." She scooped up the supplies and went back behind the desk. She searched around the shelves for a bit, then returned with a deck of cards. "This one's a classic. I'm going to show you some pictures, and you're going to say the first word that pops into your head when you see them."

Kira sat down and flipped the first card. The picture was of a random black splotch.

Azula drew back in revulsion. "What?"

"All right. Next!" Kira flipped the card, showing a similar splotch with smeared edges.

Azula snarled. "This is stupid!"

"Say a word, honey. Any word."

"Butterfly-worm!" Azula blurted.

"All right!" Kira flipped the next card. "How about this?"

Azula blinked. "Black!"

Flip.

"And this?"

"Dagger!"

Flip.

"And this?" Kira brought out another card, and for the strangest reason, an image immediately flashed in Azula's mind, making a connection almost too rapid for her to realize. Her mouth opened of its own accord. "Mai—"

But the minute she realized what she was saying, Azula stopped and closed her mouth. She stole a glance at Dr. Low, who paused in his writing moments later and looked up. Azula narrowed her eyes and turned away. "Ink."

Kira lowered the cards. "It seemed like you were about to say May, the fifth month. That's a pretty time of year; does it mean anything special to you?"

Azula slapped the table. "I said this is stupid! "

Kira sighed. "Fine. I'll get another game." She went back to the shelves and put the cards away.

Azula watched the nurse rummage around, and snorted. "Games. Is that really how you heal your patients?"

"Of course," Kira replied. "Relaxation is essential for successful therapy."

"Perhaps I'm not in a hospital at all, and you're just keeping me here to do something with me."

"If by 'do something' you mean heal you, then yes," Kira said. "That's what hospitals are for."

Azula crossed her arms. "What kind of hospital keeps its windows boarded up?"

"The kind that doesn't want its patients to get distracted."

"So you do the same thing for everyone else?"

"Of course."

Azula frowned. "And how many patients are there?"

Kira looked up at the ceiling. "I'm not sure. I don't know the exact number, of course, but there are dozens. And everyone's treated the same."

"And will I get to see any of them?"

"Don't be silly. Your treatment is yours and yours alone. Nobody else should be involved with the process."

"But what if I'm the kind who needs company?"

She heard a chuckle, and whipped her head around to see Dr. Low smiling to himself. He looked up at them for a moment, but lowered his gaze to the clipboard before Azula could look him in the eye.

Moments later, Kira came back to the table. "That's enough," she said flatly. She set down a scroll in front of her. It was filled with mathematics problems. "Solve these. You have one hour. No talking."

Azula narrowed her eyes. But she took the pencil and slid her chair closer to the desk, sitting primly and perfectly, just as she had done in school. Periodically, she looked up at Kira, who nodded for her to keep going. From the side, Dr. Low didn't make another sound. And yet, he was the one who seemed to be getting exactly what he wanted. The more Azula paid attention to him in the corner of her eye, the more prominent he seemed, like a giant dark spider in web of white skirts and smiles that had ensnared her.

...

At the end of the day, Kira wheeled Azula back to her room and left her alone for what she called "mindfulness hour". For once, the activity was appropriate. Azula was indeed mindful, and by the end of the session, she had formed a plan of action. She would get out. She would be free.

When the door opened again, it was Mira carrying a tray of dinner. The nurse tried to act cool when she handed it to Azula, but couldn't resist a wayward, calculating glance before she turned away. Azula immediately caught Mira's gaze, compelling the nurse to keep looking at her, and smiled.

"So. Is this what it's going to be like every day?"

"I don't know what you mean." Mira started to walk away, and Azula leaned forward in her chair.

"I mean, aren't you going to do anything else? Or take me anywhere else?"

Mira stopped in the doorway and turned around, placing a hand on her hip. "Freedom is a privilege. You haven't earned it." With that, she away primly and closed the door.

Azula ate her food in silence. When she was done, she rolled her chair to the counter and put down the tray. Then, she scooted herself behind her bed, peering down at the tangle of wires that fastened it to the wall. During her earlier investigation, she had found that all of them were just simple hooks, which were attached to a metal ring on the wall and kept closed by twist fasteners. Azula bent down and untwisted one of them, which caused the hook to open effortlessly, and let it hang on the ring. She did this for several others, but let the rest be, just in case one of the nurses noticed. Smiling in satisfaction, she sat back down in the wheelchair.

Kira came in a minute later to prepare Azula for bed. She pulled aside the blanket and lowered her down, closing the handcuff around her wrist. "Sleep tight." She smiled, placed the key deep into the bookshelf, and went to turn off the lights. Moments later, the door closed behind her.

As always, she didn't lock it.

Azula waited for a couple of minutes, then crawled up to the front of the bed and felt around for the hooks. She managed to untwist the rest of them, detaching them from the wall and letting them hang loosely from the bottom of the bed. Then she sat up on her knees and pushed off from the wall. The bed rolled smoothly along the floor and stopped at the bookcase with a quiet bump. Azula leaned towards the shelf and searched it with both hands, feeling around for the little silver key. When she found it, she let out a grateful breath and began to pick at the lock until the handcuff popped open. She lowered her feet onto the floor and rolled the bed back into place. Then she reached for the doorknob and pressed her ear against the door. When she didn't hear any sounds coming from the hallway, she opened it.

The hallway was as dark as ever, but a little to her right, there was a slip of light coming from beneath a door on the opposite wall. The light wasn't much, but with her dark-adjusted eyes, Azula could see the outlines of the other doorways around her. She went left, approaching the dividing door, and to her surprise, found that it was closed and locked. Azula went back, carefully tiptoeing past the occupied room, where she could hear the voices of Nira, Mira, and Kira chatting away. She pressed her palms against the dead-end door and tried that knob as well, but it was firmly locked. She breathed a sigh.

The other doors around her were closed as well, the rooms beyond them darkened. There were six of them. The two on either side of her bedroom were storage closets. The one to the left of that was the bathroom. The door on the opposite wall, near the middle boundary, was the check-up room where the nurses had examined her the previous day. That left two rooms unaccounted for - the one that was occupied, and the one to her left, near the dead-end door.

Azula turned to it and tried the knob, and with a swell of relief, she felt it turn. She gently pushed it open.

Inside, she saw a large space, filled with hazy dark blocks of furniture. The room was about the size of her bedroom, but was more generously filled - along with the ever-present counter and cabinets around the door, there were also three narrow beds, a dresser, a vanity, and a writing desk. Azula stood still near the doorway for a moment, and when she had assured herself that there was nobody inside, she went in. She felt the frame of one of the beds, and was surprised to touch wood - real, actual wood, not the metal that hers was made of. The beds were all made and kept neat, likely on Kira's orders to have everything in "Tip-top shape!" Azula practically heard the nurse's voice in her head, and snorted.

She went farther. The silence of the room was pervading, making her every shuffle seem to echo. She went towards the vanity table, glimpsing the shadowy reflection of her head and shoulders in the mirror. As she looked at her own face, trying to discern her features, she felt a faint rush of Déjà vu kindle inside of her. For a minute, she imagined being five again, wandering through the family wing in the dead of night when everyone else was fast asleep. Now that she thought about it, she had always been the peculiar one in the family, always the one to go snooping. Zuko had never done it. Early on, she had always tried to tug him along on her excursions, but he had always refused. Was it because he had been afraid of breaking some fictive, unspoken rule? Or had he been afraid of the palace itself? Of what he might discover there? On her part, Azula had never been afraid... or, rather, she had been, just a little bit, but instead of repelling her, that fear had drawn her in, morphing in some strange way into curiosity. The very things she had feared as a child had lured her, calling to some part of her that she had never fully understood. Even in the daytime, she could vaguely feel the secret inner rooms of the palace calling her, like some great beast waiting with its mouth open. Calling for her to wander in, to be swallowed. And never be seen again.

Azula looked at the reflection of the darkened room, and felt that brief childhood panic stir up inside of her. She again got the feeling that something was there with her, or perhaps that she had dipped herself into some different plane of existence. But before the feeling could get too strong, she tore her gaze from the mirror and stepped away.

She went back into the hallway and took a final look at the dead-end door. Then she tiptoed back to her bedroom, but as she passed the occupied room, she slowed down and pressed her ear against the door. From inside, she heard the clink of silverware, followed by the unmistakable sound of a tin tray being placed onto a table.

"All right, girls, dinner's up," came Kira's voice.

Nearby, someone sighed. "Noodles again?"

It was Nira. There was some movement, then Kira answered. "What were you expecting, Nira, a gourmet menu?" There was a pause. "It's all we have. No one said we'd eat like kings."

Azula could almost imagine Nira dully leaning her cheek against her hand. "No one said we'd be so unprepared either…"

"Don't be so morbid," said Kira. "Everything will come in time. What's important is that we have the essentials."

"I guess…" Nira said. "But I hope Dr. Low calls those construction people back soon. This place has too much steel." There was the shift of a padded seat. "And I can't keep looking at that furnace any more. I know they burned coal here, but gosh, that thing is huge…"

This was followed by a scoff. "Please." Without a second's delay, Azula recognized Mira. "That's the last thing on anybody's mind. They're not going to turn this place into a sanctuary. They're only going to do enough to make her buy it, and if we have to live like cavepeople in the meantime, then that's just the price we have to pay." A sip. "Pay for getting ourselves into this mess…"

Azula's eyes widened. She lowered herself to her knees, bringing her ear close to the gap by the floor.

Moments later, Kira responded. "What's wrong with you, Mira? I thought you wanted to help out."

"Yeah, medically!" Mira replied. "But this psychology stuff is really starting to annoy me. If you ask me, if someone's so sick that there's something wrong with their mind, then they're beyond help. I don't know what Dr. Low's up to, but honestly, I don't think it's going to work. Stuff like this is something you're born with. He needs to just suck up his pride and realize that she can't be kept free."

There was another pause. It was broken by Nira's soft voice. "What do you think is wrong with her?"

Mira seemed to ponder her answer for a while, then finally lowered a glass onto the table. "I think it's just a matter of personality," she said. "Some people are normal, and others have worms in their heads that make them angry at everything. Take two of my friends for example. They both have daughters the same age, around five. One's the sweetest, most lovely girl you could ask for. She's always helping her parents, playing fair with other kids, and never says a mean word to anyone. And she wouldn't hurt a fly. The other one would scream and smack things all over the room when something didn't go her way. No matter how many times people taught her patience and respect for property, it seemed like all of it just went through one ear and out the other. Once when I came to visit, I caught her outside smearing mud over the house wall. I didn't know where my friend was looking, but I obviously couldn't let it slide, so I told her to stop. And she took a fistful of mud and flung it at my skirt. What do you say about that? What kind of person do you think she'll grow up to be?"

"That doesn't have to mean anything, though," said Nira. "It could just be a phase. And kids are emotional by definition; even that good girl probably gets angry."

"Yeah, but there's a difference between normal anger and sick anger," Mira said. "A temper tantrum doesn't have to involve biting other people's hands or using your dolls as mallets. Sometimes you can just look at a kid and see that there's no joy in anything for them; everything's too hot, or too small, or too boring. They don't care about anybody else unless those people are giving them presents. Sometimes the parent can be too slow to step in. And sometimes, the child's temper is just too strong to break. You can usually tell it when you look at a person. And her… I don't know about you, but I think when you see her, you know there's something wrong. For these past few days we've done nothing but help her, and she spits in our faces like we're the scum of the earth. I give her food and she talks back to me." Mira paused, and made a quiet scoffing sound. "And you'd think. A royal child."

Nira gave a hmm. "Well, you can't assume too much about what it's like to be a royal, either."

"I'm not assuming anything, Nira. I'm just telling you what I've experienced with people, and what I can conclude based on those experiences. And I say all that stuff about good discipline is a lie. You're either born with the right sense of how to behave, or you're not. There's just no other explanation." Mira gave a pause. "Now, I don't know if it runs in her family or not. That I can't assume anything about. But whoever her mother was, I almost feel sorry for her. She probably tried her best to control her, but it didn't work." Mira paused again, and seemed to be making a disgusted expression. "You should have seen the way she looked at me. Like I was some kind of monster..."

The other nurses were thoughtfully silent.

Mira seemed to shrug off her cloudiness a moment later, and started again in her regular voice. "I just don't see why we have to be dragged down with her. That's all."

"Then why don't you go back?" asked Nira.

"She can't," Kira cut in. "None of us can. It's security protocol."

"Oh, right, right. That makes sense…"

Kira sighed. "Look, Mira, no one said it would be easy. But we're here already, so we might as well stick with this to the end. Dr. Low will probably have a diagnosis ready soon. Then he'll give us a better idea of what to do."

"Right… So, how does he diagnose people again?" asked Mira. "Does he read the answers she gives for the image test or something?"

"No, I think he looks at how she reacts to the games themselves," Nira said.

"I don't know what he does, girls," Kira replied. "My guess is as good as yours. But I know he knows what he's doing. I've heard him explain his field to people before, back in the upper city, and if there's anyone who should lead a job like this, it's him."

Mira sighed. "Well, I hope you're right..."

They didn't dwell on the topic any more. A moment of silence passed, then Nira made a remark about the mismatched chairs, and their conversation drifted to simple, moronic topics. All the while, Azula remained crouched on her hands and knees, her heart pounding. She kept listening, waiting for them to say something else about her, even the shortest phrase. She ignored the cold floor and the growing pain in her knees, until the sound of footsteps from behind made her jump up. Someone was coming.

Azula started to scramble away, but the feet stopped before they reached the dividing door. Moments later, she heard a knock.

"Dee, do you have a moment?"

The voice of the physical therapist answered. "Isla, is that you? Just a second." From the other side of the hallway, the door to the office swung open.

"Hi, Dee," said Isla. "This might seem silly, but do you have the key to the closet? I think I left mine in the check-up room."

"Of course. Here." There was a metallic jingle, and moments later Azula realized that the middle door was being unlocked. She scampered back to her room and closed the door, just as the one to Dee's wing opened. Isla stopped by one of the narrow closets and unlocked it, pulling a few boxes from the shelves. Then she went into the check-up room. Isla turned on the lights, rummaged around inside, then left. She went back through the dividing door and closed it behind her, and her footsteps retreated into the distance. But she didn't lock it.

Azula waited for the silence to settle in. Then she crept back into the hallway and approached the middle door. She carefully turned the knob, gave it a push, and peered past it. Beyond it, the hallway continued for several doors on either side, a few of which had strips of light in front of them. There was one door open in the distance, casting a square of light on the floor where she could see Isla's shadow moving about. But moments later, the nurse reached out for the doorknob and closed it a little, plunging the wing into darkness.

Azula inched her way forward, keeping close to the darkened rooms. She crept towards Isla's door, which was open by a crack. She peered through it.

Inside, she saw a counter and cabinets, and a narrow bed standing beside the wall. This bed was also regular, made of wood, just like the beds of the other three nurses. Isla had placed the boxes onto a table beside the window, which had a myriad of other mixtures and solutions in various stages of preparation. Moments later, Isla herself stepped into view from the corner and approached the counter, where she laid out a metal frame and began to piece together a new test tube holder. She spent some time adjusting the poles and tightening the screws, then finally managed to get a standing replica of what she had before. Once she was done, she sat down at the mixing table and took one of the many bowls, this one with a pair of chopsticks. She began to eat, looking askance at her shuttered window.

Azula watched the nurse for a little while longer, then decided not to push her luck and kept going. She proceeded up the hallway with bated breath, feeling around the walls for doors as it got darker. Past Isla's, there was only one other room that had its lights on. As Azula approached, she noticed a dark gold bar attached to the door. It read: DR. LOW.

Azula's eyes widened, then she narrowed them and pressed her ear to the door. Inside, she heard the subtle flipping of pages and the clink of a teacup. But nothing else.

She tiptoed away and moved on. Up ahead, there was nothing but darkness. Azula didn't feel any more doors on Dr. Low's side, and one more on Isla's. She kept going, reflexively lifting her hands in front of her, till she felt her palms make contact with the dead-end door. She had reached the other end of the hallway.

She felt around, and her hand closed around the doorknob. It was firmly locked. The door didn't even have a gap on the bottom. Azula turned around and pressed her back to it, glancing out at the hallway in its entirety. For some reason, it seemed much smaller than it should have been.

After waiting another few seconds, Azula started to creep back the way she came. She got through the dividing door unnoticed, slunk past the closets, and slipped back into her bedroom.

She climbed back into her bed, took the key from the bookshelf and locked the handcuff over her right wrist. Then she put the key back on the shelf where it had been before. She had just finished rolling her bed back to its place by the wall when she heard the lounge door open, and the three nurses step out. She quickly jumped under the covers. Someone went up to the dividing door and pushed it open, then paused.

"Wait," said Nira. "Did we lock this when we came here?"

"Of course," said Kira.

"Well, then someone must have opened it."

Mira let out a breath. "Oh great…"

But right then, there was the sound of rushed footsteps, and someone opened the door. "It was me," came Isla's voice. "Relax. I went to get some things from the closet."

"And why didn't you lock the door?" asked Mira.

"I forgot. I was just on my way to lock it now."

"Isla, you can't forget," said Kira. "I know we 're here on this side, but we're not all-powerful. What if Azula got out without us knowing?"

Someone opened the door to Azula's room and peeked inside. "It's okay, she's in there," said Nira, and closed it again.

"Are you sure?" asked Mira. "You should go check."

"She's sleeping."

"Then she won't notice you."

Nira sighed. Azula closed her eyes and hung her handcuffed arm over the side of the bed, keeping still as best as she could. Nira went back into the room and leaned over Azula's shoulder, then turned away and left. "She's asleep. Relax."

Mira and Kira breathed sighs of relief.

"Good," said Kira.

"Are we happy now?" asked Isla. "Crisis avoided?"

The other three nurses were silent.

"Just be careful," Mira mumbled tiredly. "Every time someone loses their keys, she has the chance to grab them and make a run for it."

"Relax," Kira said. "Isla has her keys. She won't lose them again. Period. There's no need to get all hyped up."

"Yeah," Nira said. "And anyway, even if Azula does get out, there's nowhere really to go."

Mira sighed in agreement. "Yeah. I guess."

Whatever that meant, they left it at that.