perFormative
Mai stared up at the ceiling from atop her bed and threw a blade.
A whisper of air, a glint of steel, the thunk of pierced wood. The little razor, although discarded from Father's trim-kit as too dull, was stuck firmly in the ceiling. But it was a finger-span from where it had been aimed. A failure. Landing such a thin blade with any real strength was difficult.
But she needed to learn. She wanted to achieve this. Ty Lee had gone on vacation with her family last spring and came back spouting nonsense about auras and the healing powers of crystals, but now she could bring down hardened fighters with a finger-jab. Azula had always been and always would be a prodigy. And the boy whose contribution to the war was supposed to be heart and wisdom-
He was gone. Six months, now.
Mai threw another blade, a half-scissors. Another miss.
Mother's footsteps heralded her arrival in the bedroom's doorway. "Quickly, Mai! Your father must be wondering where we are."
"Just waiting for you." Mai slid off her bed and made a show of unnecessarily smoothing the fancy robes she'd been wearing for the last hour. "Killing time."
"I had an ill stomach again today, but I'm fine now." Mother grabbed Mai's hand and pulled her along. "Your Father needs us to look perfect. Be on your best behavior, quiet and gentle. Do not attempt to share your sense of humor with anyone."
Familiar words. And so Mai departed on another grand adventure of being a living prop.
The carriage ride out of the Caldera was quick, whisking Mai and Mother into South Harbor City. It was a squalid, industrial place, nothing like the capital, despite sprawling just beneath its slope. But the carriage's ultimate destination was trying to be something quite different. No longer a construction site, its ugliness was covered over with crimson elegance, massive drapes and hanging flags hiding rough scaffolding and stained bricks. A servant led the way up a set of stairs, their temporary nature almost hidden by shadow, to where the air smelled almost fresh and the blue sky stretched above.
The platform built atop the scaffolding was walled with potted hedges, blocking out the view of the rest of the city, and tables of food spiced the air into a breathable state for the people gathered here in their finest robes. Wealth and beauty hid the foundries of war, just for today. It was all very nice, all very fake, all very dull.
A lot of work for just another party.
Mother put on her Social Face, turning a small smile and hungry eyes not on the food, but on the people gathered here. Mai recognized many of the faces from previous occasions where she was expected to keep her mouth shut, but names were purposefully forgotten. She put no effort into her own facial expression, as there was nothing here to make her feel anything. She couldn't even summon anger at these people, at what they tolerated- she had run out months ago.
Mother smiled and exchanged pleasantries, leading the way through the crowd. Mai kept hands folded in sleeves and bowed silently whenever she heard her name, receiving smiles and compliments in return. Such a wonderful girl. So proper. So respectable. A perfect companion for the princess.
If only. Azula preferred people to be useful. Just like the Fire Lord.
They found Father at the far side of the platform. There, the fence of potted shrubs gave way to something like a balcony, a space from which to gaze down upon a supposedly scenic work yard. A metal bridge, segmented with curving supports, extended from the balcony's edge to reach across the open air. It terminated at the base of a wooden model of a city, perched atop a tall pole in the center of the space.
So, the guest of honor had already been introduced. Father's big idea, a way to reach cities that wanted to be left alone, mechanical bridges that could defeat Isolation itself. Or a kind of isolation, anyway. So far, science and engineering had failed to find a cure for feeling alone in a crowd.
Father was on the balcony with another man, hunched towards each other with faces twisted in frowns. As Mai approached with Mother, she heard the stranger saying, "...add some kind of covering, at least."
Father shook his head. "Too much weight. I ordered the math done, and even a light canopy would halve the extension length."
"But-" The stranger pointed at the prototype. "Even if the bridges work, how many of our people will die as they cross? We need a shield, or-"
"Enough!" Father lowered his voice, but Mai's time with Azula left her good at hearing whispers. "Let the generals worry about their losses, if they care. War Minister Qin is formally approving the design in his speech today. Are we to send him back to the Fire Lord and say we changed our minds?" He gave a wave of dismissal, and then finally turned to Mother and Mai. "Ah, here you are! I was starting to worry. Anything wrong?"
"Not really. But we should talk later." Mother dipped her head towards the stranger. "Engineer Majun, I hope the day finds you well."
Majun's eyes remained on Father. "And you. But excuse me, I have matters to attend to. Ukano, I hope your department's work honors the Fire Nation." He gave a bow and moved away, following the curve of the balcony. Mother and Father turned their attention to each other, but Mai's eyes stuck with the man who seemed to value lives more than her own family did.
And so she noticed him take a white ribbon from his sleeve and toss it off the balcony.
Odd.
And interesting.
So interesting that for a moment she didn't know any better. "That man who you were just talking to-"
"Mai," Father hissed, "These are not matters for women. Now that you're here, we should go greet War Minister Qin. Be as pleasant as you can manage, and there will be no talk about Majun, do you understand?" He reached out and cupped Mai's chin in his hand, angling her head so that she would have to look straight at him, holding her jaw closed.
It was not a child's place to speak to a parent unless invited. Even if the child was right.
Mai acquiesced by lowering her eyelids and sighing. Father nodded and let go of her.
If he had been a moment later, he might have dragged her down with him when the air echoed with a crack, the floor shuddered with a groan, and the whole balcony collapsed beneath them.
Mai reacted instinctively- artificial instincts constructed in the special Combat Program that Azula had dragged her to at the Academy. She shifted her weight even as the floor beneath her feet lurched down to become a steep ramp, making herself fall backwards so that she was sliding against the wood instead of tumbling into the air. Her legs braced her enough to slow things down without flipping herself forward.
Then she pulled a piece of broken mirror out of her sleeve.
Most of its length was wrapped in an old towel to protect her fingers, but the exposed glass tip was more than adequate. She stabbed it into the wood hard enough to bring herself to a stop.
Only then did her thoughts catch up with her, just in time for Father to tumble into the cloud of dust rising from the workyard. Mother was sliding down after him, screaming the whole way.
Mai was losing her family.
Her sleeve yielded a trio of tarnished coins with edges sharpened over long hours; thrown properly, they would curve elegantly as they flew. Inhale, aim, loosen the wrist, exhale, and throw.
Mother's slide was temporarily arrested when the first of the coins curved around to nail a sleeve to the platform, but it didn't sink in enough to hold. The second of the coins hit hard enough to nearly bury itself in the wood, but just missed the collar it had been aimed at. The third coin hit too early and Mother flipped when her feet struck it. She wrapped her arms protectively over her middle as she rolled into the cloud of dust.
No. Mai couldn't lose anyone else. Not even-
She pulled her glass shank free and let herself slide after her parents.
She landed in a world of gloom and debris and three big men about to hit her father with sledgehammers. The remains of the balcony, metal bridge prototype, and model Earth Kingdom city had created a field of wreckage, keeping her from getting to Father fast enough. Even if she could fight like Ty Lee, there was no chance of even trying.
Mai's heart nearly leapt from her chest as she reached into her belt for the folded handkerchief that contained her little collection of rusty nails. She took three in between her fingers, broke the situation before her into a series of vectors, and took a deep breath held just long enough to mingle with the energies flowing through her body. Then she exhaled, projecting those energies into her hand, and flung the nails at the man about to bring a hammer down on Father's head.
Landing such little things with any real strength was difficult.
That's why she used three nails.
Two of them hit, one bouncing off the sledgehammer's head with enough force to throw it off course, the other taking the man in a thigh hard enough to slam him into the pile of broken logs behind him.
The other man twisted to face Mai, pivoting his sledgehammer into a guard position, and that probably saved his life. Two of the nails she threw went wide, but the third landed in the hammer's shaft, right in front of his chest. The tool slammed into the man, the man slammed into some of the twisted scrap metal that used to be Father's prototype bridge, and the metal made a pleasant ringing sound.
It was then, as the last fighter standing, that Mai realized an expression had grown on her face.
She was smiling.
It died when she heard the scraping of a blade against a leather scabbard, a cry from Mother, and the voice of Father's 'friend' Majun saying, "We can end this without any more violence."
Mai turned to find Majun holding Mother in front of him with a knife held to her throat.
The knife was shaking. As was his hand.
Mai met his eyes and waited.
"You- you can end this," he managed. "You- your parents- you can all walk away. Alive. Healthy. Just- just tell everyone that- that the bridge collapsed on its own and brought the balcony down. You're Princess Azula's companion, r-right? People will believe you over your parents. Just- just tell them. Please!"
Was that true? Was her word more valuable than Mother's and Father's? Was she more valuable than the both of them?
Mai let the thought drift away and continued to meet Majun's gaze. His hand was shaking even more.
Mother sobbed. "Mai! Don't! I- the baby-"
That was the last piece of a puzzle Mai didn't realize she had been solving. Mother's recent illnesses, the thing she wanted to talk to Father about, and the way she held her middle as she fell. Mai's family was growing.
She used her long sleeves to hide the movement of her fingers as she retrieved a lone sharpened chopstick from her belt. "Does Father know you're pregnant?" She was impressed at how flat her voice was.
Mother could only manage a shake of her head, but Mai didn't actually care about the answer. She got what she really wanted:
Majun's knife-hand wavered. "Pregnant? But- I just want to save lives. Our soldiers-"
Mai thought of her mother, her father, and the baby on the way. She moved, breathed, and threw. Landing such little projectiles with any real strength was difficult.
Majun and Mother both cried out.
But only one had been hit.
The chopstick was sticking form Majun's hand. His knife dropped from bloody, numb fingers. Mai had been right on target. Mother scrambled away.
Mai approached Majun as he sank to his knees. "That's what happens around here when you try to save lives. Better to just protect your own. And maybe, someday, things will change." She finished things up with a flying kick that did the Royal Fire Academy for Girls proud.
Servants and guards arrived soon after that. Mai told a story about saboteurs and rivalries that matched her parents' exactly, trying to feel proud for not making Zuko's mistake and almost succeeding. Almost. The baddies were all taken away, and Father insisted on staying with his family to accept War Minister Qin's approval of his bridge. Mai stood by Father's side while he gave a speech about his dedication to the Fire Nation, her eyes moving over the crowd of ministers and engineers. More than a few flinched when they caught her gaze.
Good.
They didn't get home until after dark, weary and dusty and disheveled. Mai intended to go straight to her room to avoid any further drama, but she didn't even get out of the front hall when Father said, "Wait, there's a package on the foyer table. It's- it's from the Princess!"
Mai sighed and examined the package. The case was covered in rich leather, and the note on the top read, 'I heard about today. Good work. Keep practicing.' Azula's signature and seal made it official.
Within the case was a collection of weapons - knives, needles, razors, hinge-blades, cutting discs, and more - of quality, all trimmed with Fire Nation red.
"Perhaps," Father said, looking at the blades with approval, "I can have my engineers develop some weapons for you, as well. To better protect our rising family- our growing family!" He turned a smile on Mother, and she came over to his embrace.
Mai decided to leave them to their whatever and hefted the case over her shoulder to bring to her room. There, alone, she ran her fingers over the gifted blades and let out the sob that had been gestating within her since she nearly lost her family. Tears splashed down on silver cutting edges, and hands shook enough that she nearly cut them.
A little display of emotion, swift and deniable, and then it was choked and smothered and put back in the dark.
She took a stack of razors and flopped down on her bed, not even changing out of her ruined clothes. Her life had changed today, she knew. Just like when Zuko was sent away. But, for now, she merely wanted to be herself- whoever that was.
Mai stared up at the ceiling from atop her bed and threw a blade.
END