The knock on the door took Song by surprise. She had been busy working on lunch when she heard it. She left the duck she had been preparing, and she made to open the front door while wiping her hands with a handkerchief.

Her eyes snapped wide open when she found a Royal Guard at the other side of the threshold. And it wasn't any guard… the golden hem on his outfit gave away his identity right away.

"Oh… good day," said the Captain, bowing down respectfully towards Song, who gaped at him in surprise for a moment before imitating him.

"G-good day, Captain," she mumbled, her voice faltering when she realized she didn't know his name. Had he told her what he was called? She didn't remember if he had… "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"The gladiator has a fight today," replied the Captain, a frown on his face. "Didn't he inform you of that?"

"Uh… no, he didn't mention…" said Song, frowning. She hadn't been talking much with Sokka lately, but he should have told her about his upcoming combats. Maybe he had forgotten about the fight?

She peeked over the Captain's shoulder and caught sight of the Royal Procession. Everything looked the same on the outside, but Song could tell something was wrong. Her intuition told her Sokka's bad mood wouldn't improve anytime soon, and she was sure the Princess wouldn't put up with his crankiness if she was as mad at him as well…

"I'll get him for you," said Song, smiling weakly and turning around. She was about to head to Sokka's room when she caught sight of him at the foot of the stairs, fully clad in his black-and-blue armor, his helmet under his arm. The icy look in his eyes was as cold as ever.

"No need to go get me. I'm here," he muttered, walking to the door.

The Captain couldn't help but feel a surge of anger when he saw Sokka's face again. The frown on his features annoyed him thoroughly. He honestly didn't know what he had been expecting to see when he found himself face to face with the gladiator once more, but Sokka's apparent anger felt out of place to the Captain. He should be repenting for having hurt the Princess instead of being angry.

"Let's get this over with," grunted Sokka, glaring at the Captain as if he could tell that the man was scowling right back at him.

"Good luck…" Song whispered. She would have been distraught because Sokka hadn't told her about his fight, but the tension in the atmosphere was such that she didn't even think about reprimanding him for it.

"See you later, Song," Sokka muttered before walking past the Captain and heading towards the palanquin.

The Captain huffed in annoyance and shook his head, and Song bit her lip in concern.

"I'm sorry about that… he's been moody all this time, I don't know what to do about it…"

"It's nothing you should be apologizing for," said the Captain. "So long as he performs his duty as he's supposed to…"

"I'm sure he will," said Song, although at this point, she wasn't sure about anything regarding Sokka.

"Farewell," said the Captain bowing at her. "We will return with the gladiator in a few hours, as always."

"Sure," said Song, beaming. "Have a good day, Captain!"

"You too," said the Captain, smiling weakly under his hood and walking towards the palanquin as well.

Sokka's glare didn't leave the palanquin as he came closer and closer to it. He could see Azula's silhouette through the drapes, and he could see she hadn't turned her head around to regard him. Her back was perfectly straight, her legs were crossed before her, her arms folded over her chest and her eyes set on the road. Well, had she been acting any other way he would have been truly shocked. He didn't want to interact much with her, and he was sure that would be the only thing they could agree on these days. He had no idea what would happen when they came face to face again…

Azula had decided she would keep her body from reacting in any manner as she rode the palanquin. She didn't want to look at him. The mere thought of being near him again was enough for her heart to shatter once again. She had tried to pull herself together during the week they had been apart, but now she could tell it had been to no avail. Just knowing he was so close threatened to tear down the calm façade she had been composing these last few days.

Her eyes betrayed her and flickered towards him even though the rest of her body remained immobile. Dread sank within her chest when she glimpsed his shape through the palanquin drapes. Her hands balled into fists as she closed her eyes, refusing to let her heartache disturb her any further. They had business to attend to, and she wouldn't allow their fallout to cause more trouble than it already had. She'd had enough of that nonsense.

The Procession began moving when the Captain returned to formation. Sokka gritted his teeth as he followed the group, his brow still furrowed. There she was again, raised above everyone else. It was her rightful place as a Princess. It was where she would stay from now on, he could feel it… and it was where he wanted her to stay. They didn't belong together. They couldn't belong together. Especially after what had happened a week ago.

He didn't feel like looking at her again. Before this crisis he had wanted to steal as many glances at her elegant figure as he could get away with, but doing so now would only make him feel worse about himself. He was certain she could understand that, being as smart as she was… therefore, as soon as they had arrived to their destination, he had headed towards the Arena's gates without waiting for her to climb off the palanquin.

The palanquin bearers set down the vehicle and opened the drapes just as Sokka entered the Arena. Azula only caught sight of his back before the door closed behind him. She rolled her eyes and huffed, her chest heaving with anger. He had no shame left, did he? He couldn't even try to behave as he was supposed to, by letting her lead the way, seeing how she was the master and he was the slave. No, there seemed to be nothing left in that hollow head of his. All that talk of honor Piandao had given him had gone to waste, just as it had with her brother.

In a way, though, she was somewhat relieved. She had no idea how to face him again. Maybe he didn't know how to face her either. But Sokka running away like a coward only served to anger her more.

"Princess… do you wish to be escorted inside?" asked the Captain, but Azula shook her head and climbed off the palanquin.

"No need. Stay here, as you always do," she ordered him. She had no idea how this situation would develop, but she certainly didn't want the Captain to witness whatever might happen between her and Sokka this time.

"Yes, Princess," said the Captain, bowing down as she entered the Arena. He couldn't help but clench a fist, his gut telling him to follow her… but he was a soldier. He knew better than to disobey the Princess's commands.

Azula entered the vestibule and people gazed at her in admiration, as usual. She ignored them as she scanned the crowd, searching for Sokka and finding he was already heading downstairs. She shook her head and walked to Shoji's counter, trying to ignore the urge to run after Sokka and yell at him for being such an idiot.

"Princess," said Shoji, smiling. "Good to see you… uh, where's the Blue Wolf?"

"He went on ahead," Azula muttered, trying not to betray herself by showing how bothered she was by Sokka's attitude. "Are we due to fight already?"

"Oh, yes… right away, actually," said Shoji. "Your opponent still hasn't arrived, but you can go ahead and settle down while you wait for him."

He gave her a weak smile as he talked, trying to be reassuring but failing in the process. Azula didn't grin back at him.

"Alright then. Sign us in," she muttered. "Write down his usual choice for weaponry, I don't think he'll use anything unexpected today."

"Right away, Princess," said Shoji, nodding. He had already memorized Sokka's weapons after only ten fights. Azula didn't find this boy to be particularly interesting, but his prodigious memory was quite impressive. It seemed he knew every single one of the five hundred fighters by heart. He wrote down Sokka's file for the day before smiling again and exclaiming. "Good luck!"

Azula nodded and turned around, a sigh leaving her lips as she walked to the stairs. She felt sorely tempted to go upstairs and ignore that fool completely… but she had to tell him what the Savage Hook was capable of. The two-point gap between Sokka and the Blind Bandit could be closed down today, and telling the moron about Shoji's warnings might help her tilt the odds to their favor.

Her heart began beating faster when she walked downstairs. What was she doing? Could this be any use? Would it help their circumstances somehow? She rather doubted it. She could tell he was just as angry as she was, and he wouldn't respond positively to anything she could tell him. Still, she had to do this. She had no choice.

Sokka heard her footsteps as she walked down the hall, recognizing the sound instantly even when she wasn't nearby yet. He had to hold back the urge to panic. Was she going to tell him off for not waiting for her? Curses, why was she unable to understand he was trying to put some distance between them for their own good?

Azula entered the stand-by room to find Sokka fixing his gloves and armguards. He was staring pointedly at the sand pit, refusing to acknowledge her presence. Nevertheless, she knew he was fully conscious that she was there. Azula took a deep breath, at a loss for words. How was she supposed to start with this? Was there any way to break the uncomfortable silence? She had no idea if there was… but she had to try to break it somehow. It was obvious he wouldn't be the one to do it.

"Sokka…" she muttered, the name stinging her heart as she uttered it.

"You didn't have to come down here," he stated suddenly, taking her by surprise.

"As a matter of fact, I did," Azula growled back. "Perhaps if you hadn't stormed off as you did, this conversation wouldn't be developing as it is."

"Oh, so it's all on me…" said Sokka, rolling his eyes. "Yeah. Sounds about right."

"Will you stop behaving like the fool you are for ten seconds and just listen to what I have to say?" Azula was exasperated. She kept glaring daggers at the nape of his neck, catching sight of the scars she had placed there a long time ago. Oh, why hadn't she struck a vital point and killed him when she had the chance? If that had happened she wouldn't have suffered through so much because of him… letting him live was, without a doubt, the biggest mistake she had ever made.

"Sorry to say I can't stop being the fool I am. It'd be the same as if I asked you to stop being the princess you are. Can't do it, can you? It's engraved in your soul. Well, being a fool is my personal curse. Can't get out of it no matter what I do."

Azula brought a hand to her forehead, growing more impatient by the minute.

"Fine. But you can shut your mouth for now, or are you plainly unable to keep your jaws together?"

"You know, I've had about enough of that," Sokka grunted, turning to glare directly at her. "Stop it. I feel bad enough about myself these days for you to try and make it worse."

"Oh, you feel bad about yourself?" asked Azula, raising an eyebrow and baring her teeth at him. "You're saying you feel so bad you've regretted every single decision you've made in the past two years? You're saying you feel as if your heart had been torn right off your chest and you can't stop the pain no matter what you do? Is that how bad you feel, Sokka? Is it?!"

Sokka froze for a moment, the emotions in Azula's eyes taking him by surprise.

"And the part that makes you feel the worst…" grunted Azula. "Is that you've brought this hell on yourself. You were naïve enough to read everything as you wanted to instead of thinking things through…"

"Azula…" he muttered, making her cringe when he whispered her name. His hand moved on its own accord towards her, but Azula jumped back at the sight of it. She wanted to keep those hands as far from her as possible. She wanted to keep Sokka altogether as far from her as possible.

"No, just… no," she said, shaking her head. "Forget it. This isn't worth it. You're not worth it. Go out there and get yourself killed for all I care."

"Az-…" Sokka started, but her fierce glare was enough for him to freeze where he was. She stormed out of the room without another word.

Sokka grimaced and struck his forehead with the palm of his hand. No, no, no… this didn't mean anything. It didn't mean she actually cared about him. It didn't mean her tears had been real. Yet why did his heart ache when he looked into those conflicted eyes? Why did he stare at that enticing gold that would always make him feel at a loss? Glancing into her eyes felt as if he were glancing straight into her soul. And he could see the disappointment, the anger and hurt that dwelled within her. And all of those emotions had been born because of him.

Yet it didn't change anything. It couldn't change anything. If he had hurt Azula so badly, it should serve to keep their relationship as platonic as it should be. Maybe she hated him now, but that wasn't going to change anything either. The words she had uttered a long time ago crossed his mind once again…

"Nobody said you had to like me."

If things had worked back then, they could work now as well. They were only supposed to be a gladiator and a sponsor. That was the way it should be. The way it should have remained at all times.

He sat down on a bench within the stand-by room and placed his head between his hands, wondering what on earth had he gotten himself into when he had accepted the deal she had offered him so long ago…

The Princess's frown deepened as she fueled her rage towards Sokka. To think he had dared accuse her of being selfish… he had no idea what he had put her through! And he didn't even care! Was it the first time he had ever taken into account that his words could hurt her? Yes, he had claimed she was poison… yet so was he. And he had stung her worse than he imagined. All she could do was resist and attempt to survive that venom of his that hoped to destroy her.

She entered the sponsor's balcony and dropped on her seat, throwing her head back as she tried to cool herself down. Letting his idiocy affect her would do her no good. She had to perform to her usual standard, never showing any weaknesses to anyone. He would likely learn his lesson about listening to her by the hand of the Savage Hook, and, hopefully, he would understand his place in the world after the wild lunatic she had heard about was through with him.

The door creaked when someone else entered the room. Azula hardly registered the sound, her mind so invested in hating Sokka that she hardly realized she wasn't alone anymore. She straightened her back and stared at the Arena determinedly, hoping the opposite sponsor would understand she wasn't to be bothered today.

"Ah, I can hardly believe I'm finally before you, Princess," said a man's voice, bringing Azula out of her musings. She frowned before letting her eyes shift towards her left to study the man she had challenged…

He looked to be at least twice her age. He had a Manchu hairdo: his long strands of black hair composed a braid that scrolled down to his waist. He also had a long and slender mustache, and his green eyes matched the green garments he wore, which Azula found quite inappropriate. Green was the color of the Earth Kingdom… which no longer existed. A gladiator could wear green to show he was an earthbender, but a sponsor doing the same was quite displeasing. It felt like an affront to her, to her father and to the Fire Nation.

"I'm afraid I can't say the same," Azula spoke viciously, her previous anger peaked when faced with a stranger she had come to dislike instantly. "I assume you're the Savage Hook's sponsor."

"Oh, where are my manners?" said the man, chuckling and shaking his head. "My name is Long Feng, and I'm…"

"Oh… Long Feng, you said?" Azula repeated, raising her eyebrows and eyeing him with further disapproval. "It seems I actually know who you are, despite what I thought…"

"You do?" asked the man, smiling as he took his seat next to Azula.

"You attempted to double-cross the Fire Nation when the war was at its peak," Azula muttered. "You were Ba Sing Se's Grand Secretariat, and also head of the Ba Sing Se law enforcers, the Dai Li. You were striking bargains with the Fire Nation in secret, knowing there was no way you would withstand the power of our armies if they attacked your city, yet you hardly ever kept true to your own deals. When the comet came for the second time, Ba Sing Se and all its leaders were forced to surrender to our forces, and even though you had already proven your quality as a traitor to your own, you sought to retain all your titles and positions by claiming allegiance to the Fire Nation. My father knew better than to trust a man like you, though."

"I'd say otherwise," muttered Long Feng. "I had nothing to gain by betraying the Fire Nation once more…"

"You had nothing to gain by betraying us in the first place," Azula declared.

"There are risks a man must take when he knows he's playing for the losing team," said Long Feng. "It's no easy feat to juggle your fate between two sides of the same war."

"In that case, you only prove you're not too bright," said Azula. "If you knew you were standing on the losing side, it would have been easier to join the winning side than to hop from one nation to the other recklessly."

"Betraying my people wasn't as simple as you might believe," said Long Feng. "Even though I was still on the losing side, odds could have been tipped to our favor eventually. Betraying them right away was too dangerous a decision for me to make."

"Which is all I need to know to understand how unreliable and unworthy of being part of the Fire Nation you are," said Azula. "If you can't make up your mind about how you're going to play your game, you don't even deserve to be a player."

"Harsh and powerful, just as the rumors said," Long Feng commented, smiling. "I only hope your gladiator is as sharp as your tongue, Princess."

Azula clenched the armrests of her chair, her nails digging into the soft fabric at the reminder of her gladiator. Oh, he wasn't as sharp as her, that much she knew. Yet…

"Why do you believe he should be that sharp?" asked Azula, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, the man I sponsor is not like me, Princess," said Long Feng, chuckling. "He knows what side he's playing for."

"And what side might that be?"

"The side that is willing to slice his opponent to shreds," said Long Feng, smirking cruelly.

Azula frowned, wondering if he truly believed Sokka could be reduced to nothingness so easily. His trash talk was somewhat worrisome, yet Azula kept reminding herself that he was a betrayer. He wasn't to be trusted.

"He sounds far more reliable than you, if that's the case," said Azula, just as another person entered the room.

"Princess, Lord Long Feng…" said an Arena staff member, bowing down at them. Azula frowned at hearing him address the man by her side so respectfully. Despite Ozai had removed him from his seat of power, Long Feng remained in control of the enforcers and retained a lordship he had been granted by Earth King Kuei many years before. She hadn't approved of that decision when it had been made, and she most certainly did not approve of it now. "What shall the time limit be?"

"Oh, twenty minutes should suffice to enjoy the show," said Long Feng, smirking. "Don't you agree, Princess?"

"I suppose," Azula muttered, her frown growing stronger. The way Long Feng smiled… it was enough for her to tell he basked in the violence. He genuinely enjoyed the gladiator fights.

"Twenty minutes it is," said the man, writing the number down before leaving the room with another bow.

"Where were we…? Ah, you said he was reliable, didn't you?" said Long Feng. "I wouldn't say he is, unless you're relying on him to butcher your gladiator. You are most welcome to trust him in that regard."

"You seem to believe blindly in him…"

"I believe in his wild side," said Long Feng, smirking. "He has gone mad with grief, my gladiator. His village was burned down by the Fire Nation when he was but a boy. He tried to fight against the Fire Nation in his teenage years, but he was caught and forced to become a gladiator. Several friends of his died upon capture… if you remind him of it enough, his black heart will begin to beat wildly and he will attack anyone that stands in his way until he satisfies his thirst for revenge. But that thirst of his is unquenchable. His rage has made him completely oblivious to reason. He only cares for blood and death."

"And you seem to be pleased by that," said Azula, raising an eyebrow. "Do you thrive in other people's misfortune, or are you simply aroused by the thought of blood?"

"When you're in a seat of power, Princess, you merely watch as everything else develops beneath you. Pain, misfortune, suffering… they're amusing to witness from afar, are they not?"

Azula's nostrils flared at those words. She hated to realize she had used to think in the same way as this man. She had been convinced that emotions were useless, just as her father had taught her… and she would sit back and witnessed the way others drowned in pain, enjoying the show just as Long Feng was hoping to do right now. But she wasn't that girl anymore. She knew the toll emotions could have in a person. She was still paying the price for having feelings for that stupid gladiator of hers. Enjoying the way others suffered merely for entertainment was the practice that had led the Fire Nation to create the Gladiator business. And what good came from watching pain? What good came from agony? A long time ago she would have given those questions a formidable answer. But as she was now, she couldn't answer them.

The golden grids from the stand-by rooms moved upwards as the man with the megaphone introduced both fighters. Azula was surprised when her heart didn't jump at the sight of Sokka. It seemed her conversation with Long Feng had been the first thing to get Sokka out of her mind effectively in a very long time.

Sokka took a deep breath and looked up at the sponsors' balcony. There she was, looking troubled and angry. He sighed, realizing they needed to talk this matter out as soon as possible. At this point he was willing to shut up and let her say everything she needed to say… but they had to solve this somehow. Perhaps he had managed to ascertain they would never be together, but this had gone much farther than it should have. There had to be a way to return to what they had been before…

"… START!"

He had been ignoring the man on the megaphone, not paying any heed to what he was saying. It was only with that last scream that Sokka realized he had entered the Arena and he was about to face off against the Savage-…

Sokka's loss of concentration almost cost him his head within a second into the match. His opponent had attempted to strike him with an impressive sword, a long blade with its tip shaped as a hook. The gladiator had jumped at him so quickly that Sokka couldn't respond by doing anything but bending over backwards to avoid getting his throat slit.

Sokka jumped back, trying to put some distance between himself and his rival, but the man lunged towards him, his two hook swords in tow as he glared at him with crazed and unfocused eyes. Was it Sokka's idea, or were his pupils larger than they should have been?

The Savage Hook's shaggy brown hair shook as he tried to hack at Sokka diagonally. Sokka kept jumping back, avoiding every blow that threatened to maim him. His hand darted over his shoulder quickly and he released his sword for its sheath just in time to parry the blow from the Hook's left sword, but the man's right arm slid towards an opening. He delivered a deep gash in Sokka's sword arm, the first place he found bare skin for him to cut.

Sokka yelled out loud at the unexpected pain, his hand growing too weak to continue holding his black sword. He pulled away from the Hook, snarling at him and performing a barrel roll to pick up his sword with his left hand and knock his opponent to the ground. But rolling on the floor served no purpose, since the Hook hopped right over Sokka's frame and turned to attack him again. Sokka was forced to take his sword into his left hand to fight back somehow. This man was a monster. He didn't stop, he didn't slow down. He simply attacked with a single thought in his mind: murder.

Sokka grimaced upon this realization: he was going for the kill. He was really trying to kill him.

And using only one sword to fend off the Hook would be no use. He had to even the fight somehow, although his right arm felt so numb he was afraid he wouldn't be able to hold his own against his opponent. He couldn't quite feel how the blood trickled down his arm, but could hear it dripping on the sand. For some reason, he could hear the blood although he couldn't hear the crowd. His senses were focused in the combat and nothing more.

He took a few steps back, wary of his opponent. His gaze flickered towards the sponsor's balcony, although he didn't get to see Azula properly. In order to set things right with her, he had to survive today. In order to return home one day, he had to survive. He had come too far to fall before a wild psycho with twin hook-swords.

And thus, he forced Azula out of his mind completely for the first time in months. He had to focus on the fight and on the fight alone.

It took a lot of effort to move his right arm, yet he clasped his sword with it as his left reached out for his boomerang. It might be no good to fight dually against the Hook with two different weapons, but he had no other choice. The Savage Hook lunged at him again with a roar, attacking Sokka's right flank in hopes to worsen his injury.

Sokka spun around just as the Hook came closer and he delivered a blow with his boomerang at the Hook's unprotected head. The boomerang was bloody after digging into the Hook's skull, but Sokka didn't have time to process that. As he fell to the ground due to the impact, one of the Hook's blades found its way to Sokka's neck and the hook's tip lodged itself in the small gap between his neck and his armor, injuring his collarbone badly before Sokka could detach it, groaning in pain once more.

The Hook shook his head, having it hard to see properly as his own blood ran down his face. He wiped it away with his hand, albeit knowing his eyesight would be blurred by red again shortly, but he only needed to clear his vision enough to attack the Blue Wolf once more.

He yelled and brought one of his blades down on Sokka, who parried the blow with difficulty while using Space Sword. He tossed his boomerang at his opponent, attempting to injure him in the same manner as he had hurt him earlier. The weapon struck the Hook in the ear, and blood oozed out of it. Had he cut his earlobe? Sokka didn't know and neither did he care. He brought out his knife now, seeing how the boomerang hadn't returned to him, and he tried to use the Hook's momentary confusion to his advantage.

He had to jump back when the Hook linked his swords together by their hooks and swung them around dangerously, keeping Sokka at bay effectively. His fighting style was wild and rash… but the Hook seemed to be stronger than Sokka. He wouldn't win at this rate.

"It would seem your fighter knows how to bite back," said Long Feng, smirking. "I don't know when was the last time someone managed to cut himself a slice of Jet…"

Azula tried to remain impassive at his words, but he was truly disturbing. She wanted to think Sokka deserved getting cut and hurt by his opponent, wanted to keep thinking he had asked for it… but the Savage Hook's brutality was beyond what she had expected. The man would only recoil at the pain for a couple of seconds before attempting to slay his foe again. His skill with his weapons was remarkable and terrifying at the same time. Could Sokka win this fight? Could he really?

Sokka grimaced when he realized the best way he could have attacked his opponent right now would have been with his boomerang… which was out of his reach at the moment. How more foolish cold he get? An idea came to his head when he realized the handle of the second sword was spinning very close to him…

He stabbed the end of Jet's weapon with his knife, his aim impressing even him when he managed to nail the sword's handle to the ground. But the Savage Hook lifted his other hook sword, releasing them from their joint combination and flinging his second sword upwards. The sword's momentum helped it slip out of the grasp of Sokka's knife. The sharp edges of the hilt nearly sliced Sokka's nose as the sword flew overhead.

Sokka snarled and lifted his knife again just as Jet caught his sword in his free hand. Despite being the wild brute he seemed to be, the man had some brains too. His skill was extraordinary. No wonder he was so high in the ranking.

The Savage Hook attacked again, unwilling to take any breaks. He attempted to stab Sokka's face several times, and the Blue Wolf parried and avoided the blows even though he was starting to feel weary from the blood loss. There was a pulsating pain all over his left shoulder and his right arm felt almost numb. What made the Hook most dangerous wasn't his wild side: it was the fact that he knew exactly how to cut up his opponent's odds with his blades.

The Savage Hook brought down both his swords on Sokka at the same time, and the Blue Wolf had no choice but to hold the blow back with his two weapons, his arms trembling as he did. Sokka felt the sweat dropping from his forehead, saw the furious look on his rival's face, realized he was in danger of getting killed… it was all too reminiscent of his life as an amateur gladiator. Back then he had been determined on surviving no matter the cost, and he would always find a way to defeat his enemy… could he find a way to beat this wild beast?

Jet pushed him, the rage in his eyes growing stronger. The blood on his face only made his appearance more intimidating. Sokka used all his strength to push back in hopes to get Jet off him… but the Hook ducked suddenly, making Sokka tumble forward. Then he hooked his blades around Sokka's sword and knife to keep him from using his weapons. And, crouching on the sand as he was, the Savage Hook stabbed Sokka's thighs with the sharp tips of his swords' hilts.

Sokka grimaced, refusing to scream when he felt the pain running up and down his body. Were the hilts of the swords digging into his bones? He couldn't tell for certain. He tried to pull away, but the pain was too strong. He ended up falling on his back, the swords still attached to him, and the Hook dragged them down his legs, tearing his skin open…

Azula's eyes grew wider and wider as she witnessed the way Sokka's body was being ravaged by his rival. He was getting sliced to shreds, just as Long Feng had told her before…

And the man had the guts to laugh under his breath right next to her. He was actually amused by the fight. He was enjoying the slaughter as if it were a stage play. Azula resisted the urge to electrocute him right where he was, revolted completely by the man. He would be even more amused if she let him see how disturbed she was by this mad carnage.

Sokka had no idea what to do, his body unwilling to respond to the pain. On a desperate whim, he took the bomb he had carried on his belt and he threw it down at Jet's head as powerfully as he could. The smoke released by the bomb took the man by surprise for long enough for Sokka to sit up and detach the blades from his legs, his fingers getting cut by the sharp weapons in the process.

He crawled out of the smoke cloud, reaching out for the nearest furniture piece, one of those unusual wooden constructs that had never been much use. He used it to force himself back on his feet, but his legs kept giving away. If it weren't his legs, his arms would be the ones to fail him. No… it couldn't end like this. He couldn't end like this. He wouldn't go down, not without fighting back.

He finally got to his feet again, cringing as he felt the sand grains seething into the wounds on his legs…

"Bastard cut my pants…" he said, chuckling as he thought of how ridiculous it was to be upset about the pair of pants instead of his injuries.

Using the smoke to get away from the Hook's grasp had been a good idea… for now. But it didn't seem such a great thought when he feared his rival would hop out of nowhere to tear his throat open. He grimaced and shook his head, refusing to falter. He had to win. There was nothing else to it. Losing wasn't an option. The Hook had decided it would be kill or die… and he sure as hell wasn't going to die today.

The smoke dissipated and Sokka caught sight of the Hook's figure. He was coughing due to the smoke, but he had his swords at the ready, looking around himself in hopes to find his prey. Sokka gulped and realized he had to give the Hook the same treatment he had delivered to him. He had to cut him where it hurt. Killing the beast by the head was no use if the beast's limbs continued moving.

He stumbled as he made his way towards the Hook as silently as he could, but he heard him anyways. The Hook spun around and parried Sokka's sword with his sword's hilt, making Sokka stare at him in despair. How many uses did those damned swords have?!

The Hook swung his other sword at Sokka's neck from below, the hook at the end of the weapon getting attached to the edge of the Blue Wolf's helmet to fling it off his head. The rim of the blade grazed Sokka's neck and cheekbone, leaving another large gash on him, but Sokka didn't care. He struck the Hook's ribs with his knife, thankful to discover his armor wasn't sturdy at his flanks. The Hook yelped before flinging down his sword on Sokka's breastplate, trying to tear it off, but Sokka continued prodding at his ribs, twisting the knife inside him until the Hook was left with no choice but to push him away with his other sword.

Sokka fell back, dropping on the ground right next to the well. He helped himself up with the help of the furniture once more, his eyes never leaving his enemy. Jet removed the knife from his body and glared at it angrily. He tossed it aside and moved towards Sokka, limping, to the Blue Wolf's satisfaction. At last, his attack had taken its toll on his enemy.

"That all you've got…?" Sokka asked, reaching out for his last weapon, his club. If he was lucky he might get around picking up his previous weapons, but his club and his sword would have to suffice for now. If it came to it, he would use his teeth and nails to defeat his rival, but he wouldn't lose. He refused to lose.

The Hook grew even angrier at Sokka's bravado, and he yelled loudly before running towards Sokka again, his killer intent enhanced now.

Sokka would have wanted to duck and make Jet fall into the well, just as he had almost done while facing the Eastern Wayfarer, but his legs wouldn't respond so quickly this time. He lifted his sword and club, his injured fingers stinging him as he braced himself for the impact against the Hook's weapons.

The Hook avoided the club, realizing it was quite a heavy weapon, too heavy to be used by a man who had lost that much blood. Tiring him out should make him drop that weapon, and it would render him powerless with only one sword. Once he couldn't defend himself, the Blue Wolf would be at his mercy.

Sokka tried to fling his club at the Hook's head, thinking he just had to deliver a strong enough blow to defeat him… but Jet kept dodging his blows. It was no use, the club was too heavy and large for him to wield when his left clavicle had been hurt so badly and his arm was begging for mercy.

Almost unwillingly, Sokka let go of the club, knowing he would be signing his death warrant both by dropping it or by continuing using it. But he had gotten himself backed into a corner, and wasting his energies with the club would be no use when he could save his strength and pick up his boomerang or his knife later. He lunged at the Hook with Space Sword, trying to strike him on his still unhurt flank, but his sword was caught between his blades. The two hooks were keeping his weapon in place, making Sokka grimace as he tried to find a way to release himself from Jet's grip. The Savage Hook seemed pleased by having the Blue Wolf at his mercy, and he must have begun wondering how to finish him off…

But Sokka suddenly jumped towards him, Space Sword sliding through the hooks of Jet's swords and digging its way into their owner's stomach, the powerful metal piercing through the armor much like he had cut Kyoshi's Heir's sword in two.

Jet snarled and released his opponent's sword, and he attempted to chuck Sokka's head off by moving both his swords towards the base of his neck. Sokka managed to tilt his neck back in time, but the rims of the swords caught his chin and drew two red lines under his jaw.

Sokka stumbled back for a moment, Space Sword leaving Jet's stomach. He had been about to attack again, trying to ignore the pain in his new injuries, but he found himself knocked to the floor by a knuckle-fist delivered by the Savage Hook. He had used his sword's hilt to make his punch even deadlier, and he succeeded in slashing Sokka's cheek and having him bite his tongue accidentally upon the unexpected hit. Sokka spat blood out, his hair strands coming off his wolf's tail. The Hook attempted to stab his legs again, but Sokka miraculously managed to roll away, pushing himself up thanks to surges of adrenaline he didn't know he had in him. He caught sight of his boomerang a few feet away… if he could reach it, maybe he could survive this fight. If he could even the ground between him and the Savage Hook, maybe he could win somehow…

But the Hook attacked him again, his swords aiming at Sokka's head. He was really intent on beheading him, wasn't he? Well, it was only logical. Sokka's armor was far sturdier than his, and he had no choice but to lunge at the unprotected skin on Sokka's neck, legs and arms…

Who was winning? Who was losing? Sokka honestly had no idea at this point. But it didn't matter. The outcome to this fight wouldn't be decided by the judges, that was a given. The one to survive would be the one to win, just as it had been in the old times. And just as in old times, Sokka would survive. The image of Azula appeared in his mind again, but not in the way it used to do it back when he had been in the Amateur League. Back then he had pictured her smirking cruelly at him, mocking him for being weak… now he could see her tears. He could see her anger. He could see how disappointed she was in him. He might never be able to make up for the pain he had caused her… but he had to win here to avoid letting her down as her gladiator as well. It was the only thing in which she would rely on him these days. It was the only thing he was any use at. He couldn't fail her here.

Sokka ducked when the Hook reached him, and his head dug into the wound on his opponent's stomach. Jet's blood drenched his hair, making him grimace in disgust, but he made use of his rival's momentum to flip him over his head and throw him on his back on the sand.

Jet's head was the first thing to collide with the ground. His entire body weight was supported by his head only momentarily, but it was enough to overwhelm him for once. He had almost let go of his swords due to the hard fall he had taken, and the blood that oozed out from his wounds was staining the sand around him, but even so, he found the strength to turn around and stand up. He had to keep fighting. He would never falter.

Sokka stumbled his way to his boomerang, clasping it with his maimed fingers. Blood clung onto the weapon just as it had a long time ago, when he had killed a man for the first time… He flinched as his legs became unable to hold his weight, and he fell on his knees, pain making his eyesight blurry.

By chance he looked upwards… and he found himself staring at the sponsor's balcony.

He could see her clearly. Maybe he couldn't see anything else… but he could see her. He could see the concern in her eyes, the way her already pale skin was losing its color as she witnessed a bloody combat worthy of the strongest fighters in the ranking. Her red lips seemed to form a name… he had no idea if she was actually calling out for him, but he could hear it… he could hear her voice calling him. He could hear her asking him not to give up even if his body refused to respond. And he had to obey… he would obey. For she was his Princess, and he was her warrior.

He jumped to his feet at the right timing to stop Jet from bringing his hooks on him. Sokka grimaced and pushed him away with the weapon he had recovered, his fingers paining him further due to how hard he was holding his boomerang's edge. His eyes began glistening with rage too, much like Jet's, and he found himself powered by strength he didn't know he still had in him.

He brought down his sword on Jet's second weapon and they pushed at each other, doing their best to find the perfect opening…

The Savage Hook's leg suddenly struck Sokka's stomach, making him lose his breath… yet he kept his arms up, barring his attack. Jet continued kicking at him until Sokka leaped and took his foot between his knees, flipping him over and knocking him to the floor unexpectedly.

Jet was about to attack from the ground when he discovered he couldn't move his arm… something was stopping it. He looked down to find that the something was the edge of Sokka's boomerang, hacked into his skin. Jet yelled and pushed Sokka off him, but the pain on his arm, ribs and stomach was too much for him to remain as agile as before. He stood up and gritted his teeth, dropping one of his swords shortly to throw the boomerang away, but as he tried to take the weapon off him, his previously uninjured arm was met by a black blade. Sokka had no idea if he had pierced his bone with the powerful thrust, but he had the feeling he probably had.

The Hook shouted and tried to hit Sokka with his remaining blade. Sokka took the boomerang from Jet's skin and used it to strike him on the shoulder. His armor protected him from most the blow, but it made him recoil regardless. Sokka aimed towards his neck now, finding skin he could tear at, and he attacked without second thoughts. The Hook yelped in pain and fell to his knees, Sokka still striking him at full power.

It took a moment for Sokka to realize the Hook wasn't holding either of his swords anymore. Jet still seemed to strive to attack him, but his eyesight was clouded and he couldn't sense anything around him anymore. He stretched a hand towards Sokka, finding his leg and clawing at him, just hoping to damage him a little further…

Sokka slammed his sword's hilt down on Jet's hand and raised the blade, ready to deliver the final blow… when he realized he didn't have to deliver the final blow. His despair to survive dissipated as he stared at the Hook's writhing figure at his feet, and he took a few steps back as Jet collapsed, unable to move anymore.

Sokka's chest heaved as he stared at the man who had nearly taken his life. He had spent his adrenaline and his every emotion in the deadly combat. His legs gave away beneath him, his mind becoming clear for the first time in what felt like ages.

He'd had the chance to kill a man. And he hadn't taken it.

He had always feared that, whenever his vicious side took over him, he would become completely unreasonable, just like the man he had just defeated. Back in Hui Yi he had killed more men than he could count, and he had always told himself afterwards that it had been the only way. The blood staining his hands would always disgust him, making him wonder if he had become a monster or if he still knew how to hold back from killing a man if he was given the choice.

Knowing there still seemed to be a shred of humanity within him was enough to appease his self-hatred, if only for a moment.

"T-the winner is the Blue Wolf!" the man of the megaphone shouted, not sure if Sokka would drop unconscious as well. Upon seeing he wouldn't faint, at least, not yet, the man stumbled and gave out his declaration.

"What a magnificent combat," said Long Feng, smiling and bringing out a bag of money. "You have quite a powerful gladiator. It's what I should have expected from the Princess, to be able to find such a strong fighter."

Azula grimaced at his words. That snake didn't even care for his gladiator's wins or losses… it wasn't even about the money. It was only about the blood. He simply enjoyed the sight of two slaves cutting each other up in attempts to survive in the sand… She had hoped these sorts of people would keep to the Amateur League. It was a far more appropriate place for heartless bastards like this man.

"I look forward to pitting our gladiators against each other on another occasion," said Long Feng, standing up and leaving the bag of money on his now vacant seat. "Farewell, Princess Azula."

Azula didn't reply, sickened as she was by the man. She had never thought she would see Sokka fighting like that again. She couldn't believe he had been driven to such extremes. He had won almost miraculously… she had no idea how he had managed to stand up with those long gashes running down his legs. How much blood had he lost? How had he found the strength to keep moving?

She saw how the staff members helped both gladiators out of the sand pit, picking up their weapons as they led them to the waiting rooms, which had pretty much turned into hospital wings by now. Azula's hands slid up to her hair as she shook her head, stuck in denial. Yes, they had surpassed the Blind Bandit now… but at what cost?

The horrible wounds she had seen Sokka sustain filled her eyes with tears. Why? Why did she feel like crying when she had been expecting him to get badly hurt? He deserved the pain… he did. He had it coming…

But she didn't want to see him in pain. She couldn't bear it. It didn't matter how hard she tried to hate him, she couldn't do it. Her mind wanted him to suffer in the same way she had because of everything he had put her through these days… but her heart couldn't stand seeing him in pain.

She shook her head again, desperate. Nothing made sense anymore. She had become a living contradiction. He had turned her world upside down without her awareness, turned her into someone she could hardly recognize anymore. And after meeting Long Feng, she was actually glad to have changed so much. To think she had been anything like that man…

Her legs trembled as she stood up, picking up the green bag with the money. She gritted her teeth and left the room, feeling her strength failing her as she headed towards the waiting rooms, hoping the medical staff would be healing him already.

She gazed into every room, coming across the one where the Savage Hook was being tended in. Azula was surprised to see almost a dozen doctors were working on keeping him alive, yet, as expected, there was no sight of Long Feng in the room. She walked away to the next room and she finally found Sokka, sitting on a couch, alone.

"Where are…?!" she gasped, looking around in shock. "Why aren't you being treated?!"

"They're all… with the Hook," replied Sokka, his voice sounding weaker than usual.

"There were at least ten physicians working on him! I'm pretty damn sure one of them could be healing you instead!"

"He was unconscious… he's a priority…" Sokka whispered, repeating what he had heard the men saying.

"That's bullshit!" Azula yelled, careless about her cursing. "You're my gladiator! They should be tending to you right now!"

"C-could you… stop yelling…?" Sokka asked, grimacing.

"Oh, now you're going to tell me to stop yelling?!" Azula shouted, rolling her eyes and walking through the room, searching for the medical equipment she knew was stored in there somewhere. "No way in hell I'll stop yelling, you useless jerk…"

"Uh… I beat the guy, you know?" he muttered, closing his eyes. "I could've done… a lot worse"

"Oh, really?!" Azula shrieked, taking a humid towel from a drawer which she slammed shut roughly. "Well, guess what, fool? You could have done a lot better!"

"What are you going to…?" asked Sokka, frowning a little as Azula dropped beside him, the towel on her hand.

"Just… get that damn thing off" she said, taking hold of the armor and making Sokka wince.

"Ow! C-could you be… a little more careful?" he muttered, lifting his arms as she helped him remove the metallic plates that covered his body, revealing his badly bruised and cut-up body.

"Why the hell should I be?" she grunted. "I shouldn't even be doing this, damn it! You had it coming! You deserve to be in pain!"

"W-what? Oh, come on…" Sokka grunted. "A-are you actually glad I got… sliced up like that?"

Azula had been about to clean the wounds on his face when he said that. She dropped the towel on his lap, surprising him. Her nails dug into the couch, her head tilted downwards.

"Y-you think… you think I'm glad? Y-you really think…"

"A… Azula…"

"You're the worst! YOU REALLY ARE THE WORST!" she screamed, unable to hold back the tears of rage anymore. "I sure as hell am NOT glad you're like this! And if you weren't such an asshole, maybe you wouldn't be as hurt as you are!"

"W-what?" asked Sokka, shocked.

"I went down to that stand-by room just to tell you the Hook was a murderer! I was trying to warn you to be careful, that he had killed his opponents before! But you didn't listen! YOU WOULDN'T LISTEN!"

Sokka's eyes widened as he heard those words. So she hadn't gone to him just to talk about their situation… she had been trying to warn him about the Hook. Even though things had been so strained between them, she had been trying to keep to her end of their usual bargain. She had wanted to give him the edge she always provided him with, information about his enemy. And he had been stupid enough to let it go to waste for trying to read Azula beforehand… how many foolish mistakes had he made these past few days by being stupid enough to think he knew her? Why had he been stupid enough to believe he understood her? No, he didn't. He didn't know her. She remained a mystery to him, and now he was sure she would choose to remain one forever…

… Because as he saw the way her tears fell from her eyes once more, he realized she wasn't playing at anything. Those tears were real, as real as every wound he had sustained today. And her tears had been just as real a week ago, too.

He had already been disgusted with himself for most of what he had done… but now he realized the worst of his crimes had been his hurtful ways towards her. No, she hadn't meant to make him think she controlled him when she told him to have fun on his date. That kiss had been her last resort… she had been showing him what he truly meant to her. She had done it because she wanted to be with him. The words had been a display of her jealousy… because he had been flirting like a fool with another woman. Because she had thought what they had was special. And it was… even when they couldn't be together.

And he had misunderstood everything. He had ruined everything thanks to that overthinking brain of his. She had carried him on her back after Toph had pummeled him, even though she could have simply ordered someone else to do it… why had she done it herself? He hadn't been able to understand it… until now.

He hadn't been the only one smitten in this particular relationship.

And she had been the one to pay the price that night. Every damn thing he had said to her… what had gotten into him? Sure, he hadn't understood her intent by kissing him… but that hadn't entitled him to hurt her as he had. What he had said… as he looked back on it he couldn't help but be horrified. He had thought his dark side only came out in the Arena, whenever he had to claw his way to survive… but it had appeared that night as well. And all he could do now was regret every little thing he'd done, every little thing he'd said…

"Y-you're such an asshole… you… you just… I hate you…" she whispered, tears streaming down her face uncontrollably.

He was the worst, just as she had said. She really had cared about him. She had. And he had betrayed her trust in every possible way…

Not knowing what else to do, he took her body in his arms and brought her close, disregarding the pain that threatened to knock him unconscious any second now. Holding her against his body as she cried made his throat burn as well, tears dropping from his own eyes.

"I'm sorry…" he whispered, his head going to her hair as he hugged her with the little strength he had left. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry…"

Hearing those words only made her cry harder. She wanted to get away from him, out of those arms and run as far as she could. She didn't want to see him again for the rest of her life. He was the worst thing to ever happen to her…

"I'm sorry… I'm sorry…"

But she couldn't pull away no matter if she kept telling herself to get off his grip. He was weak, it wouldn't be so hard to push him off! But just as she wanted to get away from him, she wanted to stay with him too. She wanted to keep hearing him whisper those words in her ear. What was he apologizing for, exactly? There were so many things he had to repent for…

"I'm sorry… I'm sorry…"

But even if he had said those words for each and every time he had cut a deeper wound into her heart, she couldn't forgive him. She wouldn't forgive him. She had bothered trusting him, thinking of him as her partner… and he had thanked her by shattering her heart, by letting her down in every possible way, by proving her trust had been futile…

Trust was for fools. Fear was the only reliable way.

"I'm sorry, Azula… I'm sorry…"

He kept whispering into her ear even though he knew nothing he said could be of any use. The damage had already been done.

"… I'm sorry…"

A/N:

So… I feel obligated to apologize as well for all the hearts I've broken with these last chapters! SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO SORRY! I promise I'll make it up to you eventually! Going down this rough path with Sokka and Azula can be hellish at times, but I assure you it'll be worth it if you stick with me through this insane story! (at least, I hope you'll think it was worth it when we make it to the best parts of this fic…)

Just as I said in chapter 23, this story is nowhere near finished, take my word on that. This chapter closes off our second story arc and we'll be moving onto the third one with our next installment! Look forward to it! Our next arc will feature a surprise I'm sure you won't want to miss! And it also will tone down the craziness a little so you probably won't suffer much until further notice. So… sorry for the heartbreak again, and see you on the next one!