CW: Attempt of self-imposed heteronormativity, violent assault.

Chapter 24

On the second off-day of the tournament, Azula had breakfast together with her father and Zhao. She was relieved about being largely ignored by her father and his right hand man, the two of them discussing some dodgy business scheme. Azula found herself unable to follow their conversation, already busy plotting her own scheme to somehow escape Ozai's attention and leave the hotel. After the breakfast, her father went up to the penthouse suite with her, but instead of staying for more Pai Sho drills he simply left her with the latest copy of The Harmony Ring (the most popular of the few Pai Sho magazines). Ozai had marked down several games that he wanted Azula to spend her day analyzing, and then he had left again, telling his daughter that he would check up on her progress before leaving for the business soiree in the evening.

Azula spent a brief while surveying the relevant games and making some quick notations. The kind of studying that Ozai expected of her was very time consuming and would take her up to four hours, if not more. Still, Azula reckoned that she could slip out of the hotel and get back in time to still manage to complete her father's task. Having decided on her course of action, Azula did her hair and makeup before slipping into one of her leather jumpsuits. She then took the elevator down to the lobby, hoping that she wouldn't accidentally run into her father or Zhao. Her father had given her a task which meant that she didn't have a good reason to be wandering about.

She decided to take a cab to the restaurant they had dined at the previous day. It was around midday when Azula arrived at the restaurant. It was Monday and the restaurant was clearly not serving customers this early in the day, but the front door was not locked and Azula decided to enter anyway, hoping that perhaps Jet would be around.

Some members of the staff were indeed on the premises, doing some light cleaning work, but mostly just goofing around. One of the waitresses sauntered up to Azula and gave her an appreciative look, clearly admiring her outfit. "Hey honey, we're not serving lunch on Mondays," the girl stated in a silky, flirty voice. "Although it is a real shame to turn you away."

Azula blushed slightly. "Uh, I was actually hoping to find one of the waiters who was here yesterday," she stammered. "He goes by the name of Jet."

"Ah, you're one of Jet's girls," the face of the waitress fell slightly. "Well, that figures."

One of Jet's girls? What does that even mean? Ugh, whatever, it's not like I'm angling for something serious. I just want to have a bit of fun with a handsome boy, that's not too much to ask for, is it? "So, is he in today or not?" Azula did not relent.

"It's his day off," the waitress replied. "Poor bastard probably needs it after what happened yesterday."

"What did happen yesterday?" Azula asked. She felt herself becoming really tense and nervous.

"Just some minor altercation, think nothing of it," the other girl shrugged. "Anyway, like I said, Jet's not coming in today."

"Right," Azula frowned. "I don't suppose you could give me his phone number? Or even better, his home address?"

"Good grief, what is it about this guy that makes all the girls so desperate to get into his pants," the waitress laughed aloud, making Azula's face go beet red. "Well, whatever it is, he should bottle and sell it. Easiest million ever made."

Azula sighed, pulling out her wallet and retrieving a fifty yuan note, pressing it into the palm of the grinning waitress. "Can you help me or not, miss?" she asked, urging herself to remain polite.

"I can help you, sure," the girl immediately became very cooperative, pulling out her little notebook and pen, starting to write down the address. "You know, Jet's forwarding me a part of his tips for every hot chick I hook him up with. I reckon you'll be good enough for another fifty from him."

"Uh… well, good for you," Azula rolled her eyes, snatching the note with the address from the waitress' hand and quickly turning around before the other girl had a chance to embarrass her further.

Once outside the restaurant, Azula quickly flagged down another cab and read the address to the driver. As she had feared, the destination was deep inside the Lower Ring of Ba Sing Se, although fortunately not in the seediest of its sub-districts. Still, in her leather jumpsuit and designer sunglasses, Azula stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the dwellers of the Lower Ring. Realizing that there was a very real danger of getting mugged if she stuck around for too long, Azula asked the cab driver to wait for her as she proceeded to enter the slightly dilapidated brownstone as indicated by the waitress' note.

The look inside the house was even less appealing than the look from outside. There was a foul smelling puddle of obvious origins at the bottom of the stairs. The paint on the walls was peeling off in large sheets. A part of the banister was broken, seemingly for years, and never replaced. Azula did not understand how poor people could live in such terrible conditions. Why didn't they just move somewhere more pleasant? In any case, she was hoping to conduct her business as quickly as possible and then get out of here.

Azula quickly climbed the stairs up to the third floor and then located the doors to apartment 11A. The button for the doorbell had fallen out a long time ago, and a bit of red tape was plastered over it, leaving her with no other option than to knock on the door. She didn't have to wait long for the doors to be opened by Jet himself. He was wearing casual ripped jeans and a slightly smudged grey sleeveless shirt. As soon as Azula looked up and into his face, she took a step back with a startled gasp. Jet was sporting a rather impressive shiner surrounding his left eye.

"What on earth happened to you?" she exclaimed, even if she already knew the answer. What the hell, father? You asked your thug to punch a guy in the face just for talking to me? This is so fucked up!

"I've no idea, a guy just showed up and sucker-punched me," Jet shrugged. He didn't look too bothered. In fact, he was acting as if that sort of thing happened to him with certain regularity. "I'm more interested in finding out what you're doing here, Azula. I wasn't sure if I was going to see you again after yesterday. I'm delighted to have been proven wrong."

Curiously, it didn't seem as if Jet had made the connection between making a pass at her and then getting punched in the face by one of Ozai's bodyguards. Perhaps it was not surprising. He couldn't have known that the thug was employed by her father. Jet had probably assumed that it was some jealous ex-boyfriend of one of his girls, or simply a result of whatever sort of sordid web of affairs he was carrying on. But Azula still felt really bad about Jet getting punched in the face. After all, it had happened because of her. Maybe she could somehow make it up to him.

"Well, I couldn't put our conversation out of my mind, so I stopped at the restaurant and asked for your address," Azula confessed, blushing lightly. "Besides, there was that fortune cookie, remember? I guess I can't argue with what it told me to do, right?"

Jet chuckled softly, looking amused. "I guess not," he winked at her. "I'd love to take you out on a date, Azula. Are you free now?" Jet asked.

"No, I have to run some errands first," Azula lied quickly. "But I should be free after eight in the evening."

"That sounds perfect," Jet grinned. "How would you feel about a night at the movies? Or at least, a night that begins at the movies?" he added with another wink. "After all, I said I was going to show you all the fun there is to be had in Ba Sing Se."

"I like what I'm hearing," Azula smiled. "Where should we meet up?"

"The Blackstone Movie Theater, any time between eight and half-past," Jet replied. "Ever seen 'Psycho'?" Azula shook her head. "Oh, you're going to love it," he chuckled. Honestly, it sounded like the kind of movie that boys took girls to so that they would get scared and want to be hugged and feel protected, leading to lots and lots of making out. And that was exactly what Azula wanted to experience, so the choice of film seemed perfect to her.

"Alright, then I guess I'll see you in the evening," Azula said. She enjoyed Jet's company, but she didn't necessarily want to spend more time in these depressing surroundings. The smell in the hallway was pretty awful, a mix of rot and mildew.

"I would ask you to come in, but I have my extended family over," Jet said apologetically, pointing towards his apartment. Azula could vaguely make out the voices of some younger kids, arguing passionately. In truth, Azula wasn't too keen on entering Jet's apartment. It seemed a little on the filthy side. His servants were probably slacking off. Oh wait, poor people don't have servants. He probably has to do all the cleaning himself. Goodness, that has to be horrible, no wonder the apartment is in such a state.

"It's alright," Azula quickly excused herself, turning around to leave. "Looking forward to the evening… Jet," she added with a sultry smile as she looked back over her shoulder.

"I can't wait, Azula," Jet winked back at her as she quickly ran down the stairs and jumped into the taxi, seeking to flee the Lower Ring as quickly as possible.

After returning to the hotel, Azula tried to put all the distractions aside in order to focus on her father's task. The games he had asked her to disseminate were lengthy and complicated, and Azula ended up skipping dinner just so that she could finish her father's task in time. Ozai had come up to her room a little past six in the evening and they had gone through her notes together. Despite criticizing her for sloppiness in some places, her father had remained satisfied with her overall effort. He had then left again around half past seven, graciously allowing Azula to watch some TV on the condition that she was in bed and sleeping by ten in the evening.

As soon as Ozai had left, Azula began to prepare for her date. She didn't want to wear anything that exuded too much self-confidence. Cute, vapid and easy-going was the order of the day. Azula ended up settling on a cute black collar mini dress, fishnet stockings and matching black go-go boots. It was a few minutes past eight when she finally snuck out of the hotel and found a cab to take her downtown to the Blackstone Movie Theater.

Jet was already waiting for her outside the theater, having a smoke as he leaned casually against a wall. He was wearing a pair of bell bottom jeans and a black leather jacket thrown over a white shirt underneath. Azula had to admit that Jet cleaned up rather nicely when he put in the effort. She also enjoyed the way his eyes lit up in appreciation when he spotted her walking towards him. "Whoa, looking gorgeous, babe," he grinned at Azula, pulling her close for a kiss on the cheek. Azula winced a little at the overpowering smell of cheep tobacco. She was never particularly fond of Ozai and Zhao smoking like chimneys, but at least they were puffing expensive cigars. In comparison, Jet absolutely reeked, but Azula tried her best to ignore it.

"Thanks, you're not looking too bad yourself," Azula smiled back at him. "You've got us the tickets already?" she asked, nodding at the entrance to the theater.

"Obviously, and the best back row seats, too," Jet winked at her, waving the tickets around as they proceeded to enter the theater. Azula hoped that since this seemed like a fairly respectable downtown establishment, it would have some standards when it came to cleanliness. She had heard some horror stories from the girls at Li and Lo's about the back rows in cheap ass theaters and how the seats there were covered with certain disgusting male fluids. As far as she was concerned, that sort of grossness was not going to take place on this date.

Once they were in their seats and the movie began, Jet's arm predictably slipped around her shoulders. Azula didn't mind it at all, leaning in against him, while all the time analyzing how it made her feel. So far so good, was the verdict. Azula soon found herself completely enthralled by the movie, so much so that she was watching the gruesome murder of Marion Crane in avid rapture, completely forgetting to act like a frightened schoolgirl. It was only the cries and gasps of the other girls in the theater that reminded Azula that she was supposed to cling more tightly to Jet for comfort which he was more than happy to provide, together with a few more kisses on the cheek.

The movie was about halfway in when Jet rose and excused himself. "Sorry, babe, but I have to take a leak," he apologized with a goofy grin. "Be right back. Want me to bring some popcorn and a soda for you?"

"That would be nice, thank you," Azula smiled at him. She hadn't eaten since breakfast and she was starting to feel a little nauseous by now.

"Anything for you, babe," Jet winked at her before boldly leaning in and kissing her on the lips. He then walked away, leaving Azula wondering how she felt about the kiss.

Honestly, it didn't feel as bad as she had feared it would be. It was definitely different from both Ty Lee and Zirin. Comparing this kiss to her making out with Ty Lee didn't really make much sense because they had been inexperienced thirteen year olds back then. Making out had been a sloppy and awkward mess, even if it had felt immensely fun and enjoyable at the same time. When compared with Zirin, kissing Jet felt a little lacking. Azula couldn't deny that for some reason she felt some kind of inner tension and slight lack of comfort with Jet. She could probably get around it and endure these sensations, if that was what it took for her to be seen as straight and normal. At the same time, it made Azula wonder if the fear she felt towards her father was spilling over and seeping into the relationships she tried to forge with other men.

Ozai had pretty much ensured that the only men in Azula's life were him and Zhao. She feared her father and despised Zhao. These were the only feelings she associated towards the men in her life. Ozai was violently opposed to the possibility of her dating other girls. But at the same time, had he completely poisoned the well when it came to Azula's attitude towards men in general? Azula had no answer to this question, at least not yet. All Azula knew was that she could never uphold a relationship with a guy, even a pretend one, if it carried even a fraction of the fear and anxiety that was ingrained in her relationship with her father. Maybe Katara had been right when they had had that argument a year ago. Maybe she was a filthy fucking lesbian and she just needed to accept that about herself.

Left alone with her thoughts, Azula realized that she had missed a good chunk of the movie. She also realized that Jet had been missing for several minutes by now, far longer than a visit to the bathroom and picking up some popcorn and soda should take. Azula decided to give him a little more time before starting to worry that he had bailed on her, which seemed a little odd after they had shared a tender kiss.

Five more minutes later, there was still no sign of Jet and Azula was becoming a little nervous. While the movie was so engrossing that she would have been happy to finish watching it, Jet or no Jet, Azula still wanted to know whether she had been ditched or not. So, she rose from the seat and made her way out into the large foyer of the theater. Her attention was immediately attracted by a massive commotion outside. A crowd had gathered by the entrance into the theater, and she could see the flashing lights of an ambulance and a police vehicle.

Feeling curious, Azula decided to investigate. Something deep within the Fire Nation girl urged her to stay away, but she found herself overcome by sheer morbid curiosity. She began to push through the crowd until she could take a better look at what was going on. The paramedics had just finished working on someone and were strapping them onto a stretcher for safe transportation. Hidden by protective covering and the medics still fussing over their patient, Azula could not get a good look at the injured person, but from the amount of blood left behind on the pavement, they had clearly suffered a very vicious and brutal assault. It was only when the paramedics began to load the stretcher into the ambulance that they parted, allowing Azula to catch a glimpse of the assault victim. It was Jet.

Azula felt her legs turning into jelly and her head starting to spin as she looked at the bloodied face of her unfortunate date. She staggered forward, bumping into one of the people watching the grim spectacle. She tried to steady herself against the older man, but it was no use. Everything simply became too much and she promptly feinted, collapsing on the pavement.

She had no idea how much time had passed when she regained her bearings once again. Azula found herself sitting on one of the benches near the entrance to the theater. A policeman was standing nearby, speaking with one of the female ushers at the theater, the girl who had checked her and Jet's tickets. The other cop was leaning inside the police vehicle, speaking with someone through the transmitter. Azula didn't like how the usher kept nodding and pointing at her when speaking with the policeman. She had no idea what they were talking about and she hated how the cops kept ignoring her even after she had regained her senses. Was she under some sort of suspicion? That was too ridiculous to contemplate.

Finally, the cop speaking with the girl usher waved her away and walked up to Azula, sitting down next to her. "How are you feeling now, miss?" he asked, not unkindly. Azula shrugged. "Are you ready to answer a few questions for us?"

"I don't know what to tell you," Azula shrugged again. "My evening date went to the bathroom and to pick up some popcorn and soda for me. He never came back, so I came out to look for him."

"I see," the cop replied, pulling out his notebook and a pen, scribbling down something. "How well do you know the victim, Mr. Jet Patel?"

"Not well at all. I didn't even know his last name," Azula replied. "We only met yesterday. He asked me out and I agreed."

"No previous connection, interesting," the cop remarked, writing down some more notes. Azula had no idea what was so interesting about what she had just said. "Did Mr. Patel mention any trouble he was in, anything of the sort? Did he act in a way that could be considered suspicious or unnatural?"

"Absolutely not," Azula shook her head. "Besides, I don't think he would have told me about any shady activities he might have been involved in. As I said, we had only just met."

"Well, we have to exhaust every avenue, miss," the cop frowned at her. "Do you have any current or ex boyfriends who might have viewed Mr. Patel as a threat?"

"What? No! I don't have any boyfriends," Azula exclaimed, starting to feel annoyed at being treated like some kind of a suspect. "I'm not even a local, if you must know. I'm from the Fire Nation. If I had any boyfriends, I doubt they would have come to stalk me in Ba Sing Se. I am here visiting with my father and his business associate."

"Ah, so you're a guest from the Fire Nation. Indeed, you don't look like a local," the cop said, a little disrespectfully, or at least Azula thought so. Thankfully, at this point, the other policeman walked up to them and pulled his colleague aside, starting to whisper in his ear. The cop who had been interviewing her then turned pale, casting a fearful glance at Azula. "For fuck's sake… I'm too old to be dealing with this shit," he swore quietly and then walked away, leaving his colleague to approach Azula.

This other cop was all polite smiles as he sat next to Azula. "Please accept the humblest apologies on behalf of the Ba Sing Se Police Department, Miss Nakamura," the man spoke, bowing his head respectfully. "It took us far too much time to confirm your identity, and for that I apologize most sincerely. I have been instructed to return you to your hotel, if you would be so kind as to follow me to the vehicle. There will be no further questions asked."

"Thank you," Azula said, rising from the bench to follow the policeman. He opened the passenger side doors for her and Azula got in and strapped herself into the seat. Moments later, they were on their way, Azula once again having to admire the power and influence carried by her family name. It wouldn't surprise Azula if her father could literally get away with murder, and perhaps by extension, so could she. "So, what do you think happened to Jet?" she decided to ask the copper.

"Jet Patel is Lower Ring trash with criminal record full of minor transgressions," the cop shrugged in response. "He hasn't been on our radar for a while, and apparently he's been trying to stay on the straight and narrow. But the past of being involved in gang violence has its way of catching up with kids like him."

"But you're going to continue your investigation, yes?" Azula continued.

"I'm not going to lie to you, Miss Nakamura," the policeman smiled politely. "Cases like these usually don't justify the time investment needed to crack them. If Mr. Patel can credibly ID his attacker, or attackers, we might be able to do something about it. If not, well… I wouldn't hold much hope." Azula had the sinking feeling that Jet would not be able to identify his attackers, because they most likely were Fire Nation goons in the employ of her father.

"How… how badly was he hurt?" Azula asked. She felt absolutely devastated by what had happened to Jet. She already felt guilty about him getting punched in the face at the restaurant. What had happened outside the movie theater was… absolutely insane. It just didn't seem like this could be real.

"Quite badly," the cop sighed. "It was fortunate that someone called the ambulance right away. One of the paramedics told me that he would have bled to his death if left unattended for two more minutes. But his life is not in danger, even if he was seriously worked over with a knife and a knuckle-duster." Azula swallowed heavily, trying to fight off the forming gag reflex. The policeman seemed to notice her state of discomfort. "Grim stuff, indeed," he said in a kind voice. "I'm sorry that this is the side of Ba Sing Se you had to see, Miss Nakamura."

"You don't have to apologize about that," Azula replied quickly. Yeah, you really don't. My family brought this shit-show to Ba Sing Se.

The police vehicle finally pulled up at the hotel entrance. The policeman at the wheel did not immediately get out, instead turning towards Azula. "Are you going to be alright, Miss Nakamura? I can see that you are still a little shaken up. Is there anything I can do for you?" he asked, looking concerned.

"No, I think I'll be fine now," Azula replied. "I just want to get back to my room, shower and go to bed. And try not to think about what happened," she said, already knowing that not thinking about what had happened wasn't really an option. This wasn't the kind of preparation she needed ahead of her game tomorrow.

"That's a very good idea, Miss Nakamura," the policeman smiled at her. "There's no reason for you to keep dwelling on this incident. Rest assured we will make sure that your name is not connected to the case in any way. You will not be asked any questions about it in the future." Azula nodded gratefully and the cop got out of the car, walking around it to open the passenger side door for Azula. "Goodnight, Miss Nakamura," the policeman bowed humbly as Azula ran up the stairs to the hotel entrance and quickly made her way to the elevator and the safety of her penthouse suite.

Back at her room, Azula spent a good quarter of an hour standing in a hot shower, as if hoping for the scalding water to wash away all the disturbing unpleasantness of the evening. It didn't really work and she didn't feel any less upset by the time she was out of the shower and dressed for bed, hiding under the duvet. The tempting thought of sneaking out to visit Katara had occurred to her, but she had reluctantly dismissed it. First, it was already quite late, past ten in the evening. Second, Katara would probably pick up on her being upset and would coax the story out of her. And this wasn't something that Azula really wanted to burden her friend with. This shit was starting to get really dark. Hearing about something like this would probably freak Katara out.

But maybe Katara should be freaked out. Maybe Azula shouldn't be spending her time with Katara and her friends. Ozai had asked his goons to keep an eye on her and tail her on this date with Jet. What if he reacted the same way to Katara and her friends? Ozai seemed fine with her having female friends. As long as there was nothing romantic between her and Katara or one of her friends (and Azula definitely had no such intentions!), perhaps Ozai would not react in such a drastic manner. But then again… lately Azula was struggling to predict her father's reaction. He was becoming increasingly brutal and it frightened Azula more than ever. Perhaps staying away from Katara and her friends would be for the best, but… damnation, the thought alone hurt so much. Azula wasn't sure she could force herself to stay away.

Azula rolled over in the bed, struggling to put her mind at ease, and as a result, sleep kept staying away. She could almost physically feel the resentment against her father building deep within her, more and more. It had already been bubbling strong after the events of the past few months, and then with that scene at the restaurant. But this… this was something else. Ozai clearly didn't care whether his thugs killed Jet or not. He had literally given permission to kill someone just because they had dared to take his daughter out on a date without his express approval. How fucked up was that? Azula felt a new kind of feeling growing within her, stronger than resentment, something she thought she could never feel towards her father, something that felt wrong and disrespectful to harbor even now. Still, deep within her, hatred for her father began to grow and spread.

And with it, came the uncertainty and anxiety over her future. She would come of age in a year and five months. But what would that mean for her? Would it really mean freedom? Disobeying Ozai and walking away from her father would clearly mean losing her inheritance. Could she survive living like lower-class trash, in terrible conditions like Jet and his extended family? Azula didn't think she was cut out for that sort of existence. In a way, perhaps enduring Ozai's beatings and emotional abuse was a small price to pay for her life of comfort and luxury. Or was it… Azula was no longer so sure. Besides, how did one even walk away from someone with such reach and influence as Ozai? He could make sure that all of her future prospects would be ruined, job or study applications denied. Her father held all the cards in this situation, and Azula… well, she was just his property.

That was the depressing reality of the situation. However… perhaps it didn't need to always remain this way. Perhaps she could come up with something that would allow her to gain freedom from her father. Yes, Azula felt that she had the makings of a plan. She would stop with this pointless rebellion against her father. It was only making things so much worse. No, she would try her best to appear the model daughter that she had earnestly aspired to be for so many years. But this time, she would do so merely to earn her father's trust and with it, perhaps access to obtaining something that would eventually allow her to extract herself from these toxic and unhealthy circumstances.

And this plan needed to succeed, because Azula knew that given enough time, her father was capable of completely breaking her will to resist him. She had a choice between succeeding and literally losing herself.

Next chapter: Who will win this year's championship? Will Katara clinch the title that appears to be hers? Will Azula complete a miraculous comeback? Or will a surprise contender upstage them both?