Mr. Chen held the front door open in solemn deference. She stepped over the threshold and found herself back within the confines of the charity home. Immediately, her nostrils flared with the wonderful scent of Katsumi's cooking.

The sun was nearly set by the time they arrived home and dinner was being prepared much later than normal; her housemates had waited for them to return.

She heard the door click shut behind her and the deadbolt slide in place. She began to slip out of her sandals.

"Thank you, Yuki," the charity home's patriarch spoke in a quiet, solemn tone. "I'll tell Mrs. Chen what's happening…" He breathed a long, deflated sigh. "I wish things had turned out better."

She noted his sentiments but made no reply. Her mind lay elsewhere.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Dinner was served and Azula sat down at her usual place at the table: Katsumi to her left, Rong to her right, and Hao… Not there. Neither was Meilin in the other room.

Her brow remained knitted and her eyes narrowed as her mind continued to plot and imagine future events. After a while of sitting in silence as everyone else had begun eating, she took a deep breath, smoothed her expression and blanked out her mind. She grabbed her chopsticks and stared at the meal that Katsumi had prepared: an anemic fried rice with only a few bits of vegetables and eggs.

"Katsumi," she spoke mildly, turning to her older roommate. "This looks wonderful but… Did you not go grocery shopping today?"

The young woman frowned. "No. None of us left the house since returning from the hospital. We weren't—" She stopped suddenly, her face turning clouded. She glanced away. "We weren't sure what could happen." She sighed and turned her gray eyes back to her younger friend's. "What is going to happen?"

The young woman six years her senior was asking her.

Rong stopped eating and turned his head to view the much younger Yuki.

In contrast to their worried, anxious looks, she favored her scared, native-born friend with a soft, warm smile. "The Mori Clan and I have come to an agreement. The hostilities between us are over."

Katsumi's jaw dropped. "You mean… You've…?"

Azula's smile broadened a bit more. "Yes, but let's not talk about that now."

She returned to her fried rice and began picking at it with her chopsticks, opting to not use a spoon as she normally in compensation for her crippled left hand. She wanted her meal to take a while; the sun had not fully fallen and the evening was still early. She was in no rush to finish her dinner.

She needed the void of night to arrive.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Azula participated in the after-dinner chores as usual. Once those were complete, instead of heading to the laundry room to fold clothes, she sought out Rong.

She found him in the carpentry and leather-crafting room. He was organizing jars of paint and brushes in a slow, somber manner.

"Rong," she addressed the nineteen year old politely.

Rong turned and gazed at her with tired, haunted eyes. She was certain she knew the reason he appeared this way…

… But she ignored that for now. "I need two small jars of black plaint," she ordered. "Please."

Rong's brow wrinkled. "Why?"

"I have to…" She paused. She didn't expect to actually be asked. "It's a surprise."

"Okay…" He sighed, turned and pulled two small jars of charcoal-black oil paint off the shelf. Facing back around, he handed her the jars.

She cradled both of them in her right hand since her left was useless for the task. "And two brushes," she added.

"What size?"

"Um…" She gazed at the various options. "Medium ones."

He handed her two horsehair medium-sized brushes.

"Thank you." She took the brushes and started to leave.

"Do you think," she heard the older teen begin to say. "That if you had been there, you could have saved them?"

She halted in the doorway. "Had I been there," she replied coolly. "They wouldn't have even tried." She left the room.

Next, she sought Katsumi. The charity home's chef was located in the kitchen, doing something with the cupboards. Her movements also appeared sluggish.

"Katsumi," she alerted the young woman to her presence.

The young woman faced around slowly, her eyes red and puffy. "Yes?" She muttered.

"I need your help for a moment. Come with me upstairs, please."

Katsumi sniffled. "Okay." The young woman stopped her aimless organizing of the kitchen and followed her younger roommate up to the third floor.

Azula opened the door to their darkened bedroom. Without delay, she visited every wax candle positioned throughout the small space and pinched their wicks between her thumb and forefinger. Fire flashed between her fingers and soon orange candlelight filled the room. With sufficient light available, she moved to her sleeping mat in the corner, next to which lay the burlap sack containing the clothes and armor she had arrived with. It had never been opened.

Also next to the bag was Meilin's empty sleeping mat.

Katsumi wandered into the room behind her more energetic roommate and turned her gray eyes to her other roommate's empty sleeping mat. She frowned. "It's sad that Meilin and Hao aren't here." Her voice was low and spiritless, and in stark contrast to her remaining roommate's rapid, decisive motions.

Azula said nothing as she arrived at the burlap sack.

Katsumi breathed a shaky deep breath as her eyes began to blink with tears. "I've known Hao for years," she said tremulously.

Azula grabbed the knot tied at the bag's throat and jerked it loose.

"I can't believe he's gone."

The knot undone, she reached down and grabbed the bag by its bottom.

Katsumi took her eyes off her absent roommate's items and gazed at her other roommate. "What do you need help with, Yuki?"

Azula lifted the bag from the bottom, turned it upside down and spilled its contents onto the floor. Boots, socks, silk clothes and sheets of laminated armor lay in a haphazard pile. First, she separated her boots from the pile, then sifted through the rest in search of her raised, reinforced, protective collar.

Katsumi's face went blank and her bleary eyes blinked as she gazed at the bizarre assortment before her. "What is all that?" She asked in a quiet, tentative tone.

At last she found the collar; it was buried within her one-piece silk tunic. She placed it next to the pile alongside the boots. After that, she handed Katsumi one of the heavy, metal-clad boots. "Paint over anything that's shiny or yellow," she directed the young woman without looking.

"Uh…" Katsumi took the boot hesitantly.

Next, Azula handed her roommate one of the jars of black paint and a brush. She then took her own jar, opened it and began dabbing the inky-black paint across any sign of royalty she could find on her reinforced collar.

"Umm…" Katsumi remained troubled, idly holding the hard, armored boot and set of painting tools in her hands. "What are we doing?"

"Painting over anything that reflects light or is yellow. Come on, get started." She started on the yellow, gold-threaded trim around the neck. The paint was a bit watery so it would take many coats.

Katsumi's hesitant eyes studied the newly-revealed contents of her roommate's bag until her gaze fell to the strange metal-and-leather boot in her hand. "This looks like… Armor… And… Silk…" Her words were slow as her mind came to. "Yuki…?" Her eyes turned to her friend. "Why do you have this?"

"Because I wore it when I ran away from home," she explained curtly. "Start painting."

"Yes, but… Why do you have it?"

Azula stopped, hearing the suspicion and fear in her roommate's voice. She raised her head to meet the young woman's eyes. "You want to know why I'm so good at fighting? You want to know why I'm not afraid of those fiends like you and Mr. Chen and everyone else?"

Katsumi's face was blank and her lips were parted in vague confusion. Her lingering tears dried on her cheeks.

Azula scowled. "Because I was training to be a town guard in my hometown. That's why," she said boldly. "This is my uniform. I wore it when I ran away from my awful family, so I could be safe here. You have to help me put it on. I can't tie the straps with my bad hand." She dropped her attention back to the collar and resumed painting.

"Oh… Kay…" Katsumi replied uncertainly, some of the confusion leaving her face. "But… Why are you putting it on?"

Azula stopped painting altogether. She lowered the piece of armor and turned to gaze into the young woman's soft, scared eyes, her face hard in defiance and resolve.

"Because I'm going to do what I was born for."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Mr. Chen sat in the living room on a futon sofa, his back slumped and his expression tired and despondent. His chest rose in a deep breath and fell in a long sigh.

Mrs. Chen was in the room too, along with their fourteen year old granddaughter Chiyo. Meilin and Chiyo got along very well, including with Hao.

Mr. Chen's wife and youngest granddaughter were seated on the other sofa in the room and were joined by three of the more competent female wards as they worked on various knitting projects together. Rong, Jing, Katsumi, Yuki and his adult son and his wife were elsewhere in the house.

Heavy footsteps treaded down the stairs as if somebody was wearing hard-soled shoes. Mr. Chen's brow wrinkled but he paid it no attention until he heard the one-two step of someone arriving at the base of the stairs. His head turned slowly to view who had arrived from upstairs.

His eyes widened.

Standing in the living room's threshold was the image of a teenage girl, her slender, hourglass form adorned in layers of red, maroon and pink-colored clothes.

Her boots were tall, formfitting and rose to her knees. They were constructed of black, glossy leather while the soles were plated with serrated, red-painted steel plates that curled to a protruding point at the toe, with the laces themselves shielded by more red-painted steel plates that ran to the top of the boot and ended in a sharp arrowhead.

The girl's pants were a dark shade of pink, billowy at the thighs and stuffed into her boots as if she were an animal rider. Her tunic was red and tied around her waist with a sturdy maroon leather belt; her sleeves were long and a lighter shade of pink; her forearms were sheathed in black, lacquered leather guards of similar appearance to her boots, and a stiff, raised collar encircled her neck, made of leather that was painted a vibrant shade of red bordered in black plaint.

The girl's long, black-brown hair was pulled into a topknot and tied with a red ribbon, no bangs showing, while her left hand was wrapped into a strange two-finger point using a narrow leather band.

Most strikingly, however, were the two articles of clothing draped across her shoulders and hanging from her waist: plates of laminated, leather-and-metal armor.

Mr. Chen's jaw dropped. "Yuki?"

The others turned their heads and showed similar expressions of puzzlement.

Azula stood in the doorway for a moment before she turned and disappeared into Mr. Chen's office. When she returned, both his brass telescope and antique warrior face mask were secured to her belt.

Mr. Chen performed a double take. "Wait, what are you doing with those? Why are you in those clothes?"

Her face was a cool, unperturbed mask. "They're mine," she answered smoothly. "I wore them when I arrived in Taizao. As for your items, I'm commandeering them for the night. Don't worry, I'll bring them back when I return."

"Return?!" The old man exclaimed. "Where are you going?!"

"Out."

"Out?! But it's hours after dark!"

"I know that..." She squared herself to all who were present and showed them a confident expression. "I will be away for a while," she spoke authoritatively. "To where and for what reasons I cannot say, but I will return. Do not concern yourselves with my whereabouts. I should be back by tomorrow morning…" She stepped into the living room to make her way to the front door.

"What?! Where—?!" Mr. Chen nearly leapt out of his seat. "Stop right there!" He demanded.

She halted in the middle of the room, her face drawn with a scowl as she felt obliged to respect his demand.

At this, Rong and Jing appeared from the next room over and stared at the developing scene.

"Tell me where you're going!" The charity's patriarch demanded angrily and with a discernible tone of panic.

"I already told you," she replied in a dark tone. "Don't worry about it."

"You're wearing a soldier's uniform!" He proclaimed accusingly, pointing his finger at her. "Why are you wearing a soldier's uniform?!"

"It is a soldier's uniform," she confirmed and said nothing further.

Mr. Chen nearly choked. "BUT YOU'RE NOT A SOLDIER!"

Her eyes narrowed. "To you I'm not." She started walking again. "Don't worry!" She growled. "I'll be back!"

Mr. Chen's face went pale. His jaw dropped and his heart sank into his knees. "Oh god… Oh god, no… Dear GOD!" He clamored to his feet with all the speed his old frame could muster. "DON'T YOU DARE GO AFTER THEM!" He shouted desperately as she disappeared around the corner. "YUKI!"

She didn't stop. "Don't worry about it!" She shouted in return. "You'll all be fine!"

Mr. Chen's chest heaved with panic. The others seemed lost and confused as to what they were talking about, why Yuki was in a warrior's uniform and what exactly she intended to do… And to whom. The charity home's patriarch followed after the armored teenage girl.

"For the love of god, stop this madness!" He called. "Stop this right now!"

She bared her teeth in a silent snarl but he said nothing. She kept moving.

Alerted by the sound of shouting, the Chen's son and his wife arrived from the second floor. Mrs. Chen and Chiyo instructed the wards to stay put while they all followed after Mr. Chen and Yuki.

"You can't do this!" Mr. Chen continued to plead in anguish. "You can't stop them! The police will come after you! Come after us! Have you thought about what will happen to you?! To us?!"

"What are you talking about?!" She sneered. "I didn't tell you anything!" She heightened her pace. God dammit! I knew I should have snuck out of here! She was almost at the door.

"Listen to me, Yuki," he spoke urgently, taking a softer tone. "You aren't what you think you are. You aren't a soldier. For god's sake, you're a FIFTEEN YEAR OLD GIRL! You can't do this! For god's sake, LISTEN TO ME!"

Her eyes narrowed. "I know what I am," she muttered below her breath. She stepped into the recessed entryway and approached the door. She slid the deadbolt open and began to pull the door open.

Mr. Chen lunged. "DON'T YOU DARE LEAVE THIS HOUSE!"

Azula flinched when the door banged shut suddenly and she felt strong hands grip her armored shoulders.

"Gasp!"

She was shoved hard against the door and pinned against it. "What the hell?!"

"I'M NOT LETTING YOU LEAVE!" Mr. Chen cried. "HELP ME STOP HER!"

Azula growled. In one fluid motion, she raised her right leg and thrust it backward.

"Ahh!" Mr. Chen gasped in pain as Yuki's hard, steel sole struck his shin.

"Yuki! Stop!" Mrs. Chen shrieked.

Mr. Chen's grip weakened. She twisted out of his grasp, spun around and observed him hunched over in pain, along with the others several feet behind. She bared her teeth in a vicious snarl. Surging forward, she gripped his collar with her right hand and used every ounce of the strength in her legs to turn his body ninety degrees. Still holding onto him, she drove him backwards across the entryway, toward the wall.

Mr. Chen's back struck the wall hard and he grunted in pain. Mrs. Chen, Jing and Chiyo all cried something but she paid them no attention. Keeping the old man against the wall, she exchanged her right hand for her left arm and pressed her left elbow into his wrinkly neck to keep him there.

He coughed as the hard bone dug into his voice box.

That done, she clenched her right hand into a fist and raised it past her ear, aimed at his face.

Yellow flames burst around her hand.

All the others gasped in terror as the dim hallway was bathed in yellow-gold light. They were frozen in place, helpless to do anything to stop the armored firebender. Mr. Chen's face melted in fear as the flames shimmered in his eyes. Azula's brow drew down as her gaze locked onto his.

"I'm grateful for what you've done for me," she spoke in a low, menacing tone. "Truly, I am, but if you thought I was going to debase myself for those fiends, then you are sorely mistaken."

Mr. Chen's breath came in frightened, bewildered gasps. "But… But you said—!"

She cut him off. "I said what I needed to. Now I know where he lives, the layout of his home and a count of how many people are inside."

His jaw fell in speechless horror.

She kept him pinned. "I didn't know what to expect when I came here. I certainly didn't expect to receive this amount of generosity, I certainly didn't expect to enjoy it, I certainly didn't expect to make friends! And now I'm supposed to just throw it all away? For criminals?!"

Her voice rose sharply. After regaining her calm, she shook her head firmly without taking her eyes off the charity home's patriarch. "Not. A. Chance. I'm going to make this problem go away for all of us. I'm going to do what this feckless vassal government seemingly can't! I'm going to solve this problem the only way it can and if you try to stop me or tell anyone what you think I'm about to do, or what I did…" She paused and stared into his eyes harder. "Then you know who I'm coming for next."

Mr. Chen shrunk in terror.

After a glaring at him for a few moments longer, she retracted her left arm and took a few steps backward, her yellow flames still burning in her hand. The old man remained pressed against the wall, his chest heaving, his eyes wide and pointed at her, while the others remained rooted in place. At last, she lowered her right hand and extinguished the flames. She turned and made for the door.

"Yuki." She heard a familiar voice speak her name. She stopped and turned.

Katsumi had arrived from upstairs. She stood with Mrs. Chen, Chiyo, Rong and the other charity home workers who had been her caretakers and housemates these past few months. Two in particular were not with them.

"Please…" The young woman pleaded, her voice frail, her hands clenched against her belly as if she were ill. "You don't have to do this."

Azula's amber eyes lingered on her older roommate's gray. Her eyes darted back to the old man's before she swept her gaze across the rest. No one else said a thing, not Mrs. Chen, her adult son, his wife, Jing, Chiyo, nobody. Fear and desperation were written on all their faces, as if they knew there was nothing they could do to stop her.

Giving them one last look, she turned away from them, grabbed Mr. Chen's cloak from the hanger, draped it over her shoulders to conceal her conspicuous armor, and committed to her plan.