Zuko figured that his sister's bitch fit last week had to have come from something beyond him. Not that she needed a reason to get under his skin. She relished in doing so and would never pass up an opportunity. But there was a cold, bitterness - moreso than usual - when speaking of their mother.
As he stood at his locker peeking around its corner to get a glimpse of the busy corridor, he thought he had discovered something afoot. At the crossroads of the hall, each girl - Azula, Ty Lee, and Mai - stood paused looking like deer caught in headlights.
The trio had never really been very…friendly. Not in the sense that other, more normal people would define. No hugs, no calls to make sure one another got home safe, nor the usual gossip that befitted girls their age. No. Everything about the three girls was calculated on all fronts.
Azula was…herself. With no experience at all with affection nor tenderness, all she could ever rely on was inflicting fear in others to keep them at bay. She was cold, calculated, and always prodding at your weaknesses. In one look, she'd be able to tell your entire story and know just the moment to use it against you.
Mai was always very careful what she said in front of the two. She knew how to say just enough that made it seem like she was engaged that you couldn't even tell that you had learned nothing about her by the end of the conversation.
Ty Lee was a people pleaser. Always bending to the will of those she thought superior to her in some way. Zuko thought her - and Mai to a certain extent - to be spineless. The girl never had a single thought of her own. Always groveling and apologizing to make sure that no else was uncomfortable even if just talking about the issue would set them free. Maybe that was why their 'friendship' was doomed from the start.
As they stood at the mouths of entrances flooding with other students coming in and out, Zuko was never more thankful for the cruelty of Ozai that had left him without the ability to form deep relationships. If they were anything as painful and awkward to look at as his sister and her friends right now, he thought he could go a lifetime without companionship.
It took a few moments before the three girls stuck their noses up at each other and pretended to not notice the other. Thankfully, they were all able to go their separate ways. Their schedules must have permitted it.
When Zuko closed his locker, he finally realized the breath he was holding in as he felt his chest decompress. Maybe it was simpler being a loser.
….
The whirring of the printers and fax machines didn't soothe her as they usually did. In fact, as Azula stood in her father's office, she couldn't help but notice how loud everything sounded. Her heartbeat, the clock on the wall, Ozai's fingers sliding along the report card on his desk, even the sweat drops that rolled her back and absorbed into the fabric of her unchanged school clothes.
She'd been slipping lately - in more ways than one. Usually when report cards came out she'd be able to get them while at school and then hand them to her father once she got home. Unfortunately, something had happened with a paper shortage and a botched printer in the teacher's office that many children had to settle with having their grades mailed home.
Azula had been keeping track of the mailman's schedule. The trucks would usually come around one - meaning that it would be delivered while she was in school. School released everyone around 2:20 PM and she was banking on her commute - now extended because of Ozai's punishment - being swift enough to get her home before her father got off work at 4:00 PM.
Unfortunately for Azula, today was one of the day's he'd decided to take off early. Wasn't it just her luck? Hadn't this year been enough of a shitshow so far?
Her grades had slipped. Drastically at that - or at least in the terms of a girl used to straight A's. And all roads lead back to fucking Chan. When that piece of shit had destroyed her textbooks, it had been the week before midterms. To make matters worse, he had been so slow in buying her new ones that she ended up having to make the best of what she had in her notes.
Midterms - no matter how hard you had worked during the rest of the semester - accounted for 30% of your overall grade. Leave it up to Azula for the first time in her life to not thoroughly document what a teacher had explained in class when she had to deal with a situation like this.
Damn it all to hell! She was going to brutally murder that prick.
As she stood there sweating bullets while her father mulled over the C's and low B's on her report card, she fantasized about all the ways she could gut him like a fish, make sure his suffering was long lasting, and how he'd know never to underestimate how evil she truly could be ever again.
But that would have to wait. Right now, Ozai wasn't making any hums of consideration, held no emotion behind his eyes, and he sat as relaxed as he would be on a beach in the islands. It did nothing to quell the queasy feeling in her stomach.
Several dreadful, painfully long moments before he minutely raised his head to meet her eyes. She gulped harshly. Azula didn't think she was prepared for anything that was about to happen.
Ozai swiveled to the side in his chair. He slid his foot to a spot in front of him and tapped gently on the floor, summoning Azula over. Azula dragged her feet over to him, head hung low and unable to meet his eye. It didn't seem to bother her father at all.
"Are you going to tell me what I'm looking at or will I have to pry it out of you?" her father asked in an even, icy tone. Azula couldn't fight the shivers that ran through her body.
"Well, as you know, that situation with the kid who vandalized my locker and my textbooks. I didn't have any resources to study with and-"
Azula felt like she'd been hit by a brick wall. She'd toppled to the floor, half of her face burning from the strength of her father's palm. He looked down at her pathetically from his swivel chair, expression unchanged as if slapping his daughter around was a common occurrence.
She felt small and meek as she sat sprawled on the floor holding her hand to her cheek. She could taste blood on her tongue. The chair creaked as Ozai stood to full height, not even bothering to look at her anymore as he adjusted the buttons on his shirt.
"You know as well as I do that that was a hypothetical question," he explained coldly. "I don't give a fuck what the circumstances are. How many children go to that school? You could've asked anyone to use their books to help you study the material."
Not when you don't have any friends, Azula thought sullenly.
"You are a reflection of me at all times. Do you think grades like that are acceptable under any circumstances?"
Azula figured that was another hypothetical question and kept her eyes lowered to the ground. Her father continued on, a mild anger coloring his tone.
"Lately, you've been like Zuko," he said casually. The corners of his lips upturned menacingly, enjoying her suffering.
Despite her knowing that it was obvious bait, she couldn't stop the carnal rage that ripped through her at the comparison. "I am nothing like that boy!"
"Really?" Ozai egged on. "You cause scenes at school that I have to clean up, talk back, and your grades are abysmal. You're more alike than you think."
Ozai didn't bother to wait for a response. He adjusted the last button of his shirt and left his daughter sitting in a pool of her own misery.
….
Practice carried on as usual. The other girls seemed particularly excited about some event that would be coming up soon at school, but Azula had become an expert at tuning them out a long time ago and hadn't caught on to a word they said.
Not that she felt particularly chatty either. The entire right side of her face still hurt from yesterday and talking only made it worse. She sported a sick looking bandage on her cheek from where the bruising had formed.
Either everyone was speculating about what happened to her behind her back or they felt that there was no need to discuss a girl who had so obviously gotten what she deserved after all her smack talk.
Azula didn't have the time to worry about that though. As she stood outside near the dropoff center waiting, going on two hours for someone - anyone! - to come pick her up, she had only her thoughts to keep her company.
She thought long and hard to herself about what her father had said to her. About being more like Zuko than she thought.
That couldn't be true could it? She was popular - or at least used to be. She had friends - well, she'd just lost them but that was besides the point. Only a fluke from a jackass feeling slighted by her superiority had led to her grades slipping. She was great at things like sports and pretty much anything she set her mind to. She'd go far in life.
Zuko - though it probably wasn't the nicest thing to believe about your family member - would probably just float around doing god knows what after graduation. If he even graduated. She didn't think she'd ever known a person so unmotivated to learn as her brother.
But her father had crossed that forbidden line. Said the two siblings were alike when they couldn't be more different. Zuko was angsty, emotional, and determined to be some kind of optimistic do-gooder despite growing up under Ozai's thumb. She didn't know where the hell he got it from.
He was also nice. Or used to be. When they were younger and experiencing their parents in the throes of violent nights and screaming matches, he would take her into his room and read her a book, rub her back until she stopped whimpering, or just let her sleep in his bed.
If Ozai was so sure that they were alike, then why didn't Ursa, Lu Ten, and Iroh like her?!
Before she could delve further into that train of thought, she heard someone lumbering down her way tossing their keys in the air and whistling. Azula took a quick glance and immediately looked away when she saw who it was. Of all times to be dealing with this bitch, Kyoshi just had to make an appearance as she was on the verge of tears and brooding about her shitty home life. The woman probably got a kick out of seeing her so down in the dumps.
The tall woman came to a stop as she observed her player sitting curled on the curb, no one in sight to pick her up. "What do we have here?" the woman asked, her voice taunting. "You practically ran out of practice. I thought you'd have been one of the first ones picked up."
Azula didn't respond. She felt too drained, too vulnerable at that moment. If she'd allowed herself to speak she's sure her voice would've wobbled. Instead, she buried her head further in between her knees.
There was silence on both ends that stretched so long that Azula thought she was in the clear. She peeked out through her arms to see Kyoshi still standing there waiting for a response.
The older woman kneeled down beside her and made herself a seat on the curb. She nudged Azula playfully with her knee. Azula took up looking in the opposite direction. She heard Kyoshi chuckle to herself.
"Alright. You don't have to talk to me. I've got plenty to talk about myself," she drawled in an oddly upbeat voice. Azula had only ever heard speak in a monotone, business kind of way.
"You're probably still pissed about what I said to you earlier in the year. I don't rescind my statement. I do think you could learn a lot from being knocked down a peg, but I admit my delivery was harsh. For that, I'm sorry."
That intrigued the young girl. She couldn't remember a time that anyone, much less an adult, had apologized to her. Everyone always just cast her off as some evil, calculated menace who deserved no sympathy. It was nice to be treated like a human.
But Azula was still wary of her coach. She hadn't proven herself to be anyone that could be trusted. Azula's back remained to Kyoshi. She heard the older women scoff humorously.
"Hmm, y'know, the boys' volleyball intrigues me. The simple fact that the girls' team is better by leagues - not to toot my own horn - but we receive so much less funding and support," Kyoshi rambled. "But that's besides the point. I've been seeing you hang out with that boy Ruon Jian. A real ball of sunshine isn't he? Not the sharpest tool in the box, but a joy to be around."
That got Azula's attention. She looked up at the woman through hooded eyelids, still refusing to speak.
"I think he suits you, Azula. He gives you that fresh perspective you really need."
Azula rolled her eyes. This woman was speaking as if she was giving her her blessing to date him. She had no relation to him as far as Azula knew. Kyoshi laughed boisterously.
"I know. I'm just some old woman who doesn't know anything about you and I should mind my business. I'll back off about your love life."
A blush crept over Azula's face. She knew that she liked Ruon Jian. She certainly tolerated him more than anyone else in her life at the moment. But she'd never consider them in the way Kyoshi was implying. She wouldn't wish herself on anyone. She was just too…much for most people. She didn't want to ruin anyone.
Kyoshi sat near her in silence for a few more beats before checking her wristwatch. "It's getting dark out, Azula. Are you sure someone didn't forget that you were here?"
"No one forgot me!" Azula shrilled.
She'd shocked herself and more than certainly scared the hell out of her coach. She felt embarrassed all of a sudden and turned away again. Tears were threatening to fall from her eyes. A soft palm landed on her shoulder. She couldn't bring herself to turn towards the woman.
"I think I'm beginning to understand you more," Kyoshi breathed against the chilly night. "C'mon. I'll drive you home."
