Damn. I need some new music to write to. I can't write this story to 30 Seconds To Mars, I'm doing that for my other fanfic.

Aargh, I feel rotten for writing this. I like Azula, as nutso as she is. She's a really well-written and complex character, and I feel bad for doing this to her. But it seemed like a good plot idea.

Another song title for this chapter. I keep meaning to see the film Nightwish wrote it for, but never seem to have the time. It seems to fit this chapter though, in mood at least - it's got the same air of regret about it.

Vivisection

Chapter 37 - While Your Lips Are Still Red

Ozai smiled at her condescendingly. 'I heard about what happened at the palace yesterday.'

'Everything went according to plan, Father,' Azula replied, keeping her face carefully expressionless as she entered the room.

'Indeed. I don't recall an almost-defeat from Zuko as being part of the plan.' Ozai settled back in his chair. 'I think you might be losing your touch.'

Azula forced herself not to respond. She knew what he was doing, of course she did. He was trying to rob her of her ability to think clearly, trying to gain an advantage over her by goading and belittling her. It was what she would do, if she were in his position.

She also knew that, were she in his position, her secondary aim would be assertion - checking that she was still the one in command by observing her inferior's reaction to the taunts.

Azula did what she knew would gratify him. 'I apologise, Father.' She bowed. 'I admit that I did allow my form to slacken. However, I did it for a reason.'

'And why was that?'

'I wished to lull him into a false sense of security,' Azula lied. 'The more off-guard he is when we attack next, the better.'

To her relief, Ozai looked convinced. 'In that case, well done. I assume it took you some time to evade his soldiers?'

'Yes.' Azula nodded.

In actual fact, she had been the one caught off guard. She hadn't expected Zuko to have developed his firebending so much since the day of the comet two years ago. Then, they had been equally matched, which she had assumed was purely due to the comet rather than any increase in skill on Zuko's part.

Azula tried not to be too hard on herself. After all, she had expected to best him with ease, perhaps injuring him rather than killing him, in preparation for the secondary stage of the plan. She hadn't expected any improvement in her brother's firebending skill, and so she'd come close to losing by underestimating her opponent. It was a mistake Azula resolved not to make a second time. She had always been better than Zuko at everything since childhood, and she certainly didn't expect that to have changed over only two years.

Everything except how to behave around people without terrifying them out of their skins, that was. Even Zuko, with his crippled social skills, was capable of holding onto a relationship without causing the other party to run in fright. That made Azula depressed.

'I'm going out tonight, Father. I'll be back quite late.'

Ozai didn't say anything, just waved his hand in dismissal. That depressed Azula even more. She left the room, walking down the stairs through the dense, smoky air of the tavern, and went outside.

She had no idea what she was going to do for however many hours. She just knew she couldn't stomach being alone in that room with her father for another long, awkward night.

The streets of the Fire Nation capital city were lit with lanterns. It was quite pretty - Azula had never gotten the chance to see it. She had had no desire to, and in any case, a Fire Nation princess was sure to be a target out here for anyone with a grudge against the royal family.

No one knew who she was now, though. And even if they did, she doubted they would care.

The streets were filled with people, people laughing, parents with children. For a moment, Azula had the highly uncharacteristic wish that she was one of them. The thought surprised her so much that it stopped her in her tracks, and she stood still, her thoughts still and loud inside her head amongst a sea of people.

She realised that the uncharacteristic wish had been a desire to be normal, and happy. Azula had never wanted to be normal. She had always been better than normal.

A memory drifted into her train of thought - not one of the painful memories, but a memory from a little further back. Azula found herself remembering the beach party on Ember Island, and instead of feeling amusement at the teenagers whose house they'd destroyed as she usually did, she felt only sadness.

She could pretend to be one of these people, but eventually they would recognise her as an intruder, an interloper who didn't know how to be one of them.

A young man whose face looked oddly familiar, his arm around the waist of a pretty girl, was walking in her direction. Azula searched her fragmented memory for his face, trying to place it. To her surprise she realised it was the boy from the beach party, the one who'd kissed her.

Her first kiss. Azula remembered the smell of smoke from the lanterns, the sound of people laughing and talking coming from inside the house, the cool night air and the warmth of him. She wasn't so naïve as to say she'd been in love. But it had felt - nice. It felt strange to use that word. Azula had never really cared for anything nice.

The boy - Chad - glanced at her, and for a moment Azula thought he had recognised her. The eyes lit in recognition, and he frowned, pausing in his stride for a moment, as if trying to place her face in his mind like she had just done with his. It would only have been a few seconds that he spent standing there, but to Azula it seemed much longer.

Then the girl at his side tugged on his arm, laughing, saying something meaningless, and Chad turned back to her, smiling in return.

Azula watched them walk away, her eyes feeling oddly warm. She blinked angrily, harshly a couple of times. Doubtless it was the smoke in the air, because she had never cried, not even as a small child.