"Running off to mother already, Zuzu?"

Zuko stopped buttoning his shirt to turn and stick his middle finger at Azula. The girl could do nothing but smirk. Her brother was so predictable. He made an even worse liar.

"Stop calling me that!" he shouted, now cross with his shirt for the buttons not being properly aligned.

She stifled a laugh behind a dainty hand. Riling up her brother was one of her favorite past times. He just made it so easy. How could she resist?

"Aaaww…don't be so fussy older brother. You never used to have a problem with my nickname."

"That was before you became an egotistical maniac."

"Egotistical? Confident? Whatever you prefer to call it, I'm not going to stop," she shrugged as she plopped down onto his bed.

For such an erratic personality, Zuko's room was surprisingly devoid of all his quirks. Albeit, that was due to Ozai's controlling hand, but there weren't any objects like sculptures or posters that truly represented the zany boy. It was as if he didn't even live here.

Well – technically, he didn't. Azula had been keeping track of his moves since his mother showed her face again. Slowly, like a bird building a nest, he'd been taking a few of his belongings at a time to his mother' house. She must've had a spare room for him somewhere. Or maybe he finally had the balls to really defy Ozai and go live with Iroh.

Azula scoffed at the idea. Her brother was stupid, but not that stupid. Zuko frowned at Azula. He slapped her on the hip as he moved to grab his overnight bag off of the bed. Azula feigned hurt for a moment before rolling off of the bed. She was never one to remain where she felt unwanted.

She moved around the side of the bed until she was standing near the door. She watched Zuko continue to rummage through his drawers for clothes. Her lip curled at the mess he made. Did he have to be such a slob about everything?

"How much longer do you think you'll be able to creep out on Father before he becomes cross with you?" she asked, her arms folded with an irritated brow raised.

He looked up at her with a smug grin. Zuko walked over to Azula until he was close enough to clamp a hand over her shoulder. She shuddered at the sudden intimate contact.

"I'll be able to keep this up a little longer considering he'll be grilling you soon about not being captain."

Azula blanched. It had been a terrible blow to her pride reading the results of the tryouts. She waited a week just for that bullshit to come out and she wanted nothing more than to rip her hair out when she saw it. She tried to dispute the error with Coach Kyoshi, but the woman had proven to be difficult. She said that she felt that Azula would fare much better without being the boss of something, but rather, learning how to work as a collective along with the rest of the group.

She'd seen her matches the years' prior, spoken to her previous coaches, and watched her carefully in tryouts just to pull that crap?! Azula had been furious. She still was. But no one's anger would rival her father's. She dreaded dinner tonight.

As Zuko walked out with his head held high and a skip in his step, she wished for nothing more than to be mediocre for once. They all seemed content with their lot in life.

….

Dinner was long and drawn out. Azula was hyper aware of everything. She muffled her chewing, kept her bites small, made sure not to gulp too loudly as she sipped away at her water, and avoided her utensils from dragging across the plate at any point in time.

She knew Ozai.

Any little thing could send him over the edge, especially with the big disappointment she assumed that he already knew about. That was the thing about her father. He could unnerve you without even being in your presence. Just the thought of his disappointment was enough to deter Azula from making mistakes.

So how could she explain this to him?

He was finishing the last of his meal. She watched him as he chewed at the last morsel on his plate. He hadn't looked at her once in all the time they'd sat at this table. Her stomach dropped. There was nothing more she hated than being ignored.

"So am I going to have to pry it out of you or are you going to tell me why you aren't the team captain?"

Her head shot up at his authoritative voice. The walls shook from the strength of it. He hadn't yelled – yet - but he already had such an impact on her. The familiar fear blanketed her body until she felt her knees wobble in her seat. She could only wait for his next words in fear.

Ozai was now staring directly at her. His folded hands rested underneath his chin in a princely manner. He was always so regal no matter what he did.

Suddenly, Azula found it hard to function. She couldn't chew properly, falling out of rhythm every time she tried and even occasionally biting her tongue or cheek. Difficulty with sitting arose. She couldn't get comfortable, her feet were falling asleep, and her legs were clammy out of nowhere. Her motor skills were also out of whack. Her grip on her utensils had loosened. She spent a good minute trying to hold it in her hand again to no avail.

Ozai was not impressed.

He watched her fumbling around like an idiot with a disdain greater than that of what he felt for Zuko. She cowered, wishing nothing more than to fold herself into a ball and roll away.

"I thought I did well-"

"Well, it's obvious that you thought wrong," her father countered, unfiltered in his critique of her.

Her grip tightened on the edge of the table. It was her fault she wasn't in the position she was supposed to be in. She'd have to endure his scrutiny for just a little while longer.

"Coach Kyoshi said she's familiar with my work. I asked her why I wasn't placed in my rightful position since she'd obviously seen so much evidence towards my ability, but when I came to dispute it, she said that it would be better if I learned to work as part of a team and not a-"

"There's no need for this long winded explanation," Ozai silenced her.

Azula clamped her mouth shut into a tight, thin line. This time, she placed both hands on the ends of the table and dug into them with her long, sharp nails. She clenched the table until her knuckles turned white.

"Your coach is telling it as she sees it. Maybe surrounded by all those mediocre players at your old school you were the best. But now, you hardly hold a candle to anyone on your new team. You've regressed, gotten too comfortable with what you thought things were supposed to be, and now you're shocked that others have caught on."

Azula felt the anger bubble under the surface. How dare he? Mediocre?! Compared to everyone she'd seen at tryouts? He'd have laughed if he only saw those plays she sat through. Why was he all of a sudden taking the side of some bitchy, washed up teacher at her school? He'd never had a problem propping up her superiority before.

Maybe things had changed since Zuko was spending less time here. Only her and her father remained here most nights. They didn't talk about much, but he seemed to have far more criticisms of her lately. She could only hope that she was imagining things.

"What did I send you to that camp for? Do you intend to embarrass me and yourself by purposefully ruining any chance at a semblance of a career?"

"No, Father," she said calmly, holding eye contact with him the entire time.

She tried to keep her emotions at bay, but she was sure that she had the tiniest bit of a scowl plastered over her face. She hated being slighted.

"I will improve and take my rightful place as captain before long."

"I know you will," he replied as he took a sip from his glass. "You won't be getting any more allowance until you do."

….

Zuko found happiness in this new life. After all these years of unrequited love and a desire for his father's approval, he'd found the love that he'd been looking for all long. It was buried deep in the crevices of his heart, but now, with his mother and new sister here, he could have it all.

The bitterness that had accumulated in his stomach over the years cleared itself out the day his mother showed up on that porch. Like an angel, she came to answer his prayers. He didn't care how long it had taken her to come back. She had finally come back. What more could he ask for?

His little sister was Kiyi. She was no older than five or six and full of life. They played together, the kind of games and teasing that you'd expect of siblings. The kind that he and Azula used to play before she became…Azula.

She called him Zuzu and it didn't send shivers up his spine. There was no malice. No ulterior motives. No implication of a further annoyance. Only the love and adoration that a normal younger sister held for her older brother.

Ursa's new husband wasn't bad either. A completely forgettable man, but his mother had married him and that must have meant something. He made no complaints about any of Zuko's unannounced popups and welcomed him with open arms every time he stood at their threshold.

Uncle Iroh and Lu Ten came over sometimes, too. As much as it used to bug him before, Iroh's love for tea didn't bother him as much as it had before. Maybe the key to all things in life was tea.

Lu Ten was still just as great as he remembered. He was tall, boyish, and brutish with a heart purer than any diamond. He was the older, wiser brother that Zuko never had. Sometimes, he wanted to cry thinking about all that he had missed out on under Ozai's rule.

Slowly, he was putting the pieces of the puzzle of his fragmented life back together. He could start over. He could be loved properly. He could love properly. He could have a family. A real one full of love. Not that sham of one back home with Azula and Ozai. Having to watch your back at every second and walking on eggshells was not how a family should be. He knew that now.

….

"And how is the princess?"

Zuko snorted on his hot cup of tea. Iroh laughed jovially as he patted his nephew on the back. He was such an easy boy to worry about.

"Don't call her that," he sneered.

Iroh only shook his head humorously.

"You know she's anything but. I've never heard of princesses that set things on fire."

"Yeah, your sister is pretty crazy," Iroh joked.

Zuko rolled his eyes. He hated when his uncle got into a joking mood. It meant that the conversation would shift into something uncomfortable, even downright inappropriate. He steeled himself as he watched the older man place his cup of tea down on a holster and lock eyes with him.

"But really, how is your sister doing? How's she been treating you in our absence?"

Zuko felt his hatred bubble to the surface. He focused his attention on a cookie as he bit into it slowly.

"The same way she's always treated me," he huffed.

Iroh shook his head in disappointment.

"She's doing fine. I can't imagine how long that'll last since Little Miss Perfect didn't make volleyball captain this year."

A loud, boisterous laugh shook the room. Zuko caught whiplash snapping his neck in his uncle's direction. The portly man was holding his belly tight as if he'd burst at the seams. Zuko laughed nervously along with him to ease his worry.

Uncle Iroh wiped a tear when he finally stopped laughing. He placed a hand on his nephew's shoulder with a small smirk on his face.

"I'm sorry to have scared you, nephew, but it's always nice to see your sister be knocked down a peg. Why, if the same had been done to Ozai, maybe he wouldn't have become such a monster."

"I doubt this will deter Azula," Zuko countered, oddly defensive. "She always comes out on top. It's kind of her thing."

"Only time will tell, nephew."

….

"Oh, don't worry about it, Azula. Coach Kyoshi's a little rough around the edges, but she has everyone's best interest at heart."

Azula had to stop herself from visibly cringing as she closed her locker door shut. It was the ass crack of dawn and Ty Lee was already up and too cheerful for her liking. She didn't know how the girl did it.

Now wasn't a good time, though. Her father had chewed her out further last night when she dared to ask him how she'd provide for herself at lunch. He'd called her rude, unladylike, and a bunch of other things before he eventually decided that he also wouldn't be providing her transportation to school for the next week.

She rubbed her aching feet. She'd be hobbling around for the rest of the day. If he wanted her to assume her rightful position as captain more quickly, injuring a vital part of her body for sports was not ideal.

But it was Azula's fault after all. What right did she have to question her father after not measuring up to his standards? She could do better. They both knew that. Why was she coming up with excuses with her shortcomings now?

It really stung her when her father compared her to Zuko last night. It was such a sore topic. Neither one of them really ever spoke about it to each other. Azula only hyper performed because she didn't want to be treated like Zuko.

Maybe she had created unrealistic standards for herself.

Nah.

Azula was the greatest thing since sliced bread. In time, everyone would come to know this as fact just as she did.

"Thank you for your…words of affirmation, Ty Lee," she quipped in the ditzy girl's direction.

Ty Lee curtsied in thanks. Azula avoided slapping her forehead in annoyance.

"But this is only temporary. Kyoshi has a point to prove by not making me captain. She wants to fill these other girls' heads with the unrealistic idea that they, too, could be champions. Not everyone's made to do the work of the captain. You're either born a leader or you simply follow. When the results of our matches come back, she'll come to her senses."

"Wow, Azula! You're so smart!"

"I know."