Ozai glared at the little bald monk who'd been his only visitor in the last month. "What are you doing here? Come to torment me further, have you?" he hissed from the pile of hay that was now his only friend.
"No, I just wanted to see how were you doing," Aang said timidly, anxiously twiddling his thumbs.
"I'm fantastic, thanks for asking. Avatar Roku's ghost visits to slam trash can lids together and scream 'you got beat up by Caillou' at me in the dead of night." Ozai rolled his bloodshot eyes and pulled his blanket tighter around him. He couldn't stand to look at the boy any longer. "I haven't slept in days."
"Well, either way, I wanted to give you something." Aang removed a slip of paper from his robe and passed it through the bars.
Ozai eyed the offering suspiciously, then grabbed and unfolded the sheet. "…Is this for me to eat?" he asked, puzzled.
Aang grinned. "No, it's supposed to be you, made out of noodles! I thought you'd want it, with all the statues of you being torn down to usher in the new regime and whatnot…"
"Are you just rubbing it in, boy?" Ozai growled.
"No, no, that's not what I meant. Maybe you could use it to decorate your cell. After all, you're going to be here for a long time. Probably the rest of your life!"
"Get out!" Ozai roared.
"Okay, I couldn't resist that one," Aang snickered. "That was mean. Sorry."
Ozai clambered to his feet, and held the noodle picture up against the wall, across from the pile of hay. "I think I'll put it right here. How does that look?"
"I like it. I'll come visit again, and I'll bring real food next time. And I won't make fun of you, either," Aang promised. "See ya!"
"Thanks, kid." Ozai cracked a weary smile for perhaps the first time since his imprisonment. Perhaps the noodle fanart would ward off the ghost.
AN: The 'you got beat up by Caillou' line was stolen from a tumblr post by adventures-in-poor-planning.