Holy poop! Two chapters in the same twenty-four hour period! Hooray! :D
As a reminder: italics are used to indicate a memory/flashback. This one isn't overly long, but it further explores the plot line.
7. We Go Way Back
"I assure you, father, the boy has no recollection of his life before the event," she said from her position on the ground beside me, "the treatments worked perfectly." Azula and I had been called upon a few hours previously to meet with our father, and we had discussed all of the odds and ends of the business before my least favorite topic was finally brought up.
I did not dare look up from the ground, from my knees that were bent under me; the man thought himself a God. The design and layout of headquarters was a testament to that; it was enormous, luxurious, and filled entirely with objects in different tints and shades of red. Gold accented half of every room; massive pillars that lined both sides of the entrance hall were coated with the stuff. It was lavish, expensive, and completely unnecessary, but no one questioned it, no one challenged his conception of himself.
"Where is he now?" Azula had inherited his ability to instill fear and intimidate with even the simplest of words, she had inherited nearly all of his abilities and traits. There was no answer, and I looked to my left to find that Azula was no longer there. I looked up at the large form above me, his shadow being all that I could see.
"Well?" His tone was full of irritation.
"Forgive me, father," I said before answering, "my sources last informed me that he left the facility with the girl, and is now staying with her." He made a sound of distaste.
"Why would you have let him return to the place he had lived in before we intervened?" He was getting angry, as was usual when Azula wasn't in the room with us.
"I assure you, father, we have him under surveillance," I bowed my head low, directing my eyes toward the wooden floor. I felt like a dog, scared into submission, my tail between my legs.
"We set up an audio feed inside while the girl was away," I continued, "the moment they begin discussing his memory returning to him, if that happens, we'll step in. I have men stationed around them at all times; several of the surrounding apartments have our people in them, listening, watching, waiting for orders."
This seemed to satisfy him, and he made another sound, one of approval, "Very well, you are dismissed, Zuko." He stood up and walked out of the room, leaving me in the dark, kneeling on the floor in front of his platform.
"Happy birthday, Aang," she said excitedly and rather loudly in my ear as she threw her arms around me. I smiled and gave her my thanks, returning her hug, and then continuing my walk home from school with her alongside me. I was only an inch taller than her and still in high school, junior year; she had graduated the year before but continued to meet me in the same spot every day. I was waiting for her to not show one afternoon, where she would call me later telling me that she was sorry, that she had found someone else, someone new, someone male to meet at the movies, or in a nice restaurant.
She looped her arm around mine, and I smiled, pushing my thoughts aside for the time being. "Shouldn't you be at school, too, ma'am?" She shook her head, her hair twisting and turning along with the motion; she had had such long hair all throughout her junior and senior years until she decided she wanted to cut it all off for graduation. It framed her face, falling in thick chunks all around the middle of her neck and ears.
"I told you, I don't need to go to college to be happy and successful," she said firmly, "besides, I've already located a few potential places of employment, thank you very much." I laughed and threw up my hands in mock defense.
"I apologize, dear lady," I said as I tripped over a crack in the pavement, earning another laugh from her, giving her a scowl of embarrassment. She repositioned her arm, and continued walking in the direction of our houses.
"Oh, I almost forgot," her other hand rummaged through the pocket of her jacket, one that I had lent her a while back and that had slowly, but surely, become her own, "here." I took the piece of paper from her fingers, stopping where we were on the sidewalk to read it. It was a homemade birthday card; she always made me cards for every holiday and special occasion, she never bought any; I loved that. The outside of the card was beautifully decorated, she had cut paper into elegant swirls that appeared as though they were blown across the face of the card. The inside was just as attractive, more whimsical paper patterns blew across both sides. The message inside was written carefully, telling me of how much she cared about me, and how appreciative she was of my friendship, wishing me happy birthday.
I looked up from the card and smiled at her, opening my arms for a hug, "Well look on the back side, dork," she said, pushing me back with her hand. I flipped over the card, and sure enough, there was more writing. 'I didn't know what to get you, I couldn't find anything that I liked, I couldn't think of anything to make for you, so I decided that my gift to you this year would be truth.' I met her eyes with confusion, while she gave me a smile.
"Truth?" I asked. She nodded her head, and moved towards me, giving me the hug she had denied moments before. This hug was different than our usual hugs. Normally there was hesitance, like the both of us were afraid and uneasy of such closeness, even more so when she had found out that I had a crush on her; which had been no surprise to anyone but her. She held my body close to hers, her cheek met with mine, her eyelashes tickling my cheekbone; my heart was beating erratically.
"Yes," she nodded, the feel of her smooth skin moving against mine causing a smile to boil up from the uneasy and nervous depths of my stomach, "the truth."She pulled back a little, looking me in the eye and smiling; it wasn't a smile I saw often from her, it was her 'I'm nervous' smile, and I immediately went back to the thoughts I had been considering only five minutes before, dread already beginning to weigh down my frame. Why would she want to break my heart on my birthday?
It completely shocked me when she leaned in and placed a kiss on my cheek, holding me tightly again, her lips positioned themselves next to my ear, and whispered, "You know, I think I kind of like you." My eyes widened, and I pulled her away from me so that I could see her face. Her cheeks were red; her eyes alight with happiness.
"Do you really mean that? Truthfully?" I asked in slight disbelief, "Me?" I had hoped and dreamed for years, since I had been adopted into the family that lived one house down from hers, of her returning my feelings.
"Yes, you, truthfully," she said softly, adding a nod for extra assurance. I smiled brightly at her, and pulled her into yet another embrace, holding her so tightly to my body that my arms almost wrapped all the way around her and met with my own body again. She laughed cheerfully and threw her arms around my neck.
"I figured you would like hearing that," she said.
"You have no idea."
Something cool and wet trailed over my forehead and down my cheek, something warm and dry following closely after it, pushing back my hair. I opened my eyes to see the face from my dreams hovering over me. I tried to sit up, but a hand stopped me, gently pushing on my chest, "You need to stay flat," her voice was low, soothing, and I nodded lethargically.
"That was incredible," I said, taking note of the pillow beneath my head. I was still on the floor by the door; I had no idea how long I had been laying here.
"You remembered something, didn't you?" She had a habit of making a question sound like a statement.
"It was so clear, detailed: we were younger, it was my birthday; you made me a great card," I said, and she smiled, knowing what was coming next.
"You kind of like me, huh?" She laughed and ran her hand down my cheek, nodding.
"Only a little bit," her finger trailed down along my nose, "OK, maybe a lot."
"I'm sorry," I said, "that I can't be what I was to you before. It hurts me to know that you're hurting." The guilt had been building inside of me; I was starting to feel something for her, feelings that paled in comparison to her own for me. After kissing her, and experiencing such intense feelings, blacking out, inducing such a wonderful memory, those feelings were growing deeper, my guilt along with it.
"Don't be, Aang, it's not your fault." I knew she was right, but also that she couldn't deter me.
My head was throbbing painfully and my stomach rumbled loudly. "I think that it'd probably be a good idea for us to eat now." I laughed, wincing when pain shot through my skull, my hands automatically moving to the spot at its base. She gave me an empathetic look before standing up and helping me to my feet slowly. My bladder felt like it was going to explode; all of the liquid in my body seemed to have dropped to one point as I rose to my feet.
"I'm going to go to the bathroom first," I said and walked as quickly as I could on my slightly unsteady limbs. I heard her open the boxes of food, and grab glassware, when she closed the door on the microwave and the sound of mechanical whirring as the food rotated, heating up, before I closed the door.
I looked at my reflection in the mirror, running my fingers over my face, stretching at my skin; I had bags under my eyes, and I looked much more pale than I would normally appear. My pupils were huge, even under the right light of the vanity light. My fingers found the back of my skull once more, the ever-prominent lump pulsing beneath them.
I flushed and washed my hands, splashing cold water on my face a few times before drying off, looking in the mirror at my appearance again; my eyes seemed darker, my head hurt more. I had yet to really look over my scars: the long angry mark that ran down the far side of my face, a deep gash just below my eyebrow, the starburst of white flesh that marred the line of my collar bone. There had been no mirror in the hospital room, I hadn't gotten to see all of myself, at least not the other half of me. I pulled my shirt over my head and turned away from the mirror, looking back over my shoulder at my reflection.
A thick blue arrow ran down the length of my spine, starting at the base of my skull; stemming from the source of my pain, and branching down past my pants line. An ugly, horrendous scar marred its path, cutting through its middle and wrapping around my ribs, a feeling of intense unease tore through my system, and I turned my head away, collecting myself before looking again. It looked like I had been cut and burnt, my body badly abused; I wondered if Katara had seen this scar yet, surely she had seen all of the others.
The most intense wave of pain I had ever felt washed over me, consuming all of my abilities to think clearly; a loud crashing sound broke through the bathroom door, glass shattering, a woman's voice calling for me. All of the sounds around me were muffled, I didn't understand. I felt a rough tug at my shoulders, and felt the ground as it slid beneath me, before losing hold of everything but my name.