Azula had blown it. She had gone there to track them down and came away with nothing but heartbreak and repressed memories. She curls up on the bed and wonders how long it will take before they tire of her. Before they finally stop coddling her and demand that she gets on with her life. When they will tell her to get a job and stop taking up space in their infirmary.

And yet she can't get herself out of bed. Fresh out of fury for revenge, she has no reason to do so. Nobody to get up for and, by Agni, she doesn't want to get close to anyone. Not ever again. Not when they will be taken from her or grow to resent her upon finding out who she is. Hajime and Atsu were rare gems, she can't imagine that she will come by anyone else who would be willing to accept her.

She isn't sure that she wants them to.

She knows for certain that they have no more compassion or patience for her a few days later when they inform her that they need bed space for several new patients. When they offer her only shrugs and pitying looks when she asks where she can go.

Life becomes so terribly unbearable after that.

It was hard to cope with before.

Now, people don't even look at her. They go out of their way to pretend not to see the pathetic, shivering, dirty woman asking for a place to stay or something to eat. They put an effort into taking no notice of the ratty woman infested in body with lice and in spirit with survivors guilt.

With any luck, she won't be a survivor for long.

There is only so much a survivor can survive before the instinct burns out.

There is just enough of a flicker of that instinct for her to seek out a job, a way to make some coin. But the people of Chin know her too well already; they know that she is crazed and dirty. They have no interest in working with someone who'd earned a reputation for hallucinating a healthy pregnancy.

She still feels the kicks. She still hears the cries.

She now knows...accepts that they aren't real.

But she still covers her ears.

They avoid her with all of the effort they put into avoiding those afflicted with disease. That is the company Azula keeps now. On occasion she talks to the lepers and those with smallpox. She keeps her distance mostly conversing from the opposite end of the alley, though she doesn't particularly care if she falls ill herself.

They are nice enough but she doesn't get attached; their time is short.

Go-Hara is her favorite among them. Her face is swollen and bumpy, her hands puffy and disfigured. She has less time than the rest of them. Allegedly, she has been afflicted with leprosy since early teenhood.

Not a soul has spoken to Go-Hara, so she claimed, not until her. "You're not afraid?" She had asked.

"Not at all."

"I am a monster." The woman had brought those puffy hands to her lumpy face.

"No more than me." Azula had declared, though her rot and ugliness comes entirely from within.

Go-Hara had laughed, hoarse and unpleasant, more like a death rattle than a chuckle. Right after Atsu's screams and Hajime's last breath, it is the worst sound she has ever heard. "Pretty girl, you are. Pretty face…"

"So what?"

She laughed again.

"I'm not afraid of monsters because I'm one of them." She had thought of Hajime of how he'd always reassured her whenever the doubts had crept in. She hurt all over again, thrice over.

"You don't fear the disease?"

"I wish it would take me." She had said. Azula knew that Go-Hara was worth speaking to when the woman laughed at this too. She still isn't sure of exactly what was so funny about her death wish.

Today, she sits at the other end of the alley and tosses Go-Hara one of the mangos she had snatched from one of the traveling merchants. "Come closer." Azula demands.

"I will not." Go-Hara says again. Azula is still leprosy free and to no credit of her own. Go-Hara avoids close proximity with her as though she is the leper and not the other way around. The woman bites into the mago. "Very good. Thank you."

Azula nods. Sometimes it is a silent day, they will just sit at opposite ends of the alley and enjoy having the company.

When Azula finds herself staring up at the sky she knows that today is a silent day.

That is fine with her, she doesn't have much to say anyways. But apparently, Go-Hara has different intentions. "Can I tell you about my family before they abandoned me?"

"Go ahead." She is a seasoned listener after enduring so many after work dinners with old man Ojihara. It dawns upon her that she misses his irrelevant boyhood tales. "Please, go ahead."

And Go-Hara does. It is very different from Ojihara's tales. The old man was all logic and lessons-each of his tales ended with some sort of cautionary lesson; don't go hippo-cow tipping because it isn't as funny and lighthearted as many young folk think it is, stealing possum-chicken isn't a funny prank either.

Go-Hara's stories are all whimsical and nonsensical. Oftentimes they have no point and Azula wonders if they really happened at all. She supposes that, that is why she enjoys them so well.

Sometimes it is nice to hear about something so absurd that it has to be true despite such surreal overtones. She can very easily see a pre-teen Go-Hara making her way into a badger-mole den and causing a stampede of singing gophers.

"Your turn!" She declares when her story is through.

"My turn?"

"Humor me. Tell an old woman a story. It doesn't even have to be true."

And because her time is so short anyways, Azula tells her a story. She tells her a story about a fire princess who could have been something remarkable.

Go-Hara mentions it to no one else.

Azula hadn't expected her to.

That day she learns that some of the best people are the shunned people.

.oOo.

Sokka isn't sure what to make of it. He has been analyzing and overthinking their conversation for hours now. He is almost certain that she had implied, several times, that she is in love with him, or at the very least, that she is getting there.

And he thinks that, that is a fragile place to be with her.

He finds her in the garden again. He is fairly certain that she is just out there to be out there, he can't imagine that the seeds would have sprouted that fast even with the palace's rich soil.

"Hey." He greets.

Azula turns her head. "You're up early."

He shrugs. "I get the prettiest views in the morning."

"You're welcome." Azula replies.

"I was talking about the-"

"Princess of the Fire Nation?" She interrupts. "I know."

He laughs, he is glad to find her in better spirits. Her gaze is fixed upon the gold-blue of the sunrise as it throws shadows over the garden. "We should add strawberries to the garden."

"Strawberries?" She quirks a brow. "Next to the turnips? Sokka, that make no sense."

"It's your garden, you can arrange it how you want to."

"Yes." Azula agrees. "And I would like to keep the fruits with the fruits and the vegetables with the vegetables."

"Or you can spice it up and lay it out in a fruit, vegetable pattern."

Azula shakes her head. "I know that there aren't any crops in the tribes but I think that it is common sense, that the fruits and vegetables are kept separately."

"Can you say that with confidence?"

Azula nods. "I've traveled to various parts of the Earth Kingdom and have passed many farms. Not one of them arranged their crops in a fruit, vegetable pattern. It is because they know that that's a ridiculous idea." She adds for good measure.

"Alright fine, we'll put the strawberries all the way on the other side of the palace. Happy?"

Azula shakes her head, "that is too much unnecessary walking. Optimally the strawberries would be placed…"

He had forgotten how carefully she likes to lay out every detail. How concise even some of the most trivial things must be. But then he might not have truly know that to begin with, he has only heard Zuko mention it on occasion.

"And that's why it's important to keep the strawberries near the watermelons."

He flushes, realizing that he hadn't been listening at all. Though he isn't entirely confident that strawberries and watermelons have the same growing season. "Azula, can you answer something honestly?"

She nods.

"Do you even know what you're talking about?"

She thinks for a moment. "Not entirely. Seukhyun usually helped me with my gardens. I can't quite remember everything he was trying to tell me about it." She pauses. "I suppose I can ask the palace gardner…"

"Or we can figure it out together through trial and error. Don't you think that, that would be funner."

.oOo.

She supposes that it could be. She'd had a nice time the last few times that he'd taken her somewhere new. Spontaneity isn't exactly her first choice but it has its merits. "That's a strange way of asking if you have permission to plant your strawberries next to my turnips."

He bursts out laughing again. The sort of barking laugh that includes holding his hands to his belly until the fit passes. He wipes a tear from the corner of his eye. She didn't think it was that funny. "So is that a yes?"

Azula sighs, "fine. But only because I can shift the blame to you if my turnips don't turn out well."

It is quite therapeutic to do garden work. She thinks that if they had let her give it a try at the institution that she might have received it better. But then, she wasn't exactly ready for something like that then. At that point, gardening was still entirely a peasant's work. She supposes that it kind of still is. And she knows it by the curious looks she is given throughout the day, particularly when she re-enters the palace with muddy pants and dirt smudged hands and cheeks.

"New hobby?" Zuko asks.

Azula nods.

"I remember when you were burning things in the palace garden for being ugly."

"My garden is going to be too pretty to set on fire." She declares. "I have come inside for lunch and tea."

"It's almost ready." Zuko smiles.

"Where are Mai and TyLee?"

"They went for a stroll around the capital. Where'd Sokka go off to?"

"He's on his way inside."

"You've gotten...close." He notes.

"Yes." She replies. "What of it?"

.oOo.

He shrugs as he sets out a few teacups, "I guess that it's just nice to see that you're making friends. It's just…" he trails off. It's strange. Surreal. Unexpected among other things. It isn't the bad sort of strange and unexpected, not that he can see. In fact it is very much a relief to know that he won't have to listen to constant bickering and mediate between she and everyone else.

Generally, she seems like she is doing significantly better.

"Did you finish reading it?"

It takes him a moment to connect the dots. "Almost." He replies. Truth be told he has been hesitating to finish reading the journal. He knows already what is going to happen, he just isn't ready for it. Doesn't want to know the details and the how's. Atsu is...was a sweet boy and he doesn't want to flip the page only to find that he has died.

Agni, if he can't even read it…

He looks at his sister. At the scars on her neck and the very subtle bags under her eyes. He can't even begin to fathom it.

She takes her teacup and cradles it in her hands the way she always had since they were kids. Sokka walks into the room and suddenly her eyes don't seem so weary and tired. "I'm glad that you're doing better." He says finally.

Azula nods, "thank you."

Sokka comes to stand in front of her, "you got dirt all over your face!" He declares boldly. "Let me just…"

She takes one look at his hands and grumbles, "Sokka, don't you dare."

Despite her protests, Sokka rubs the dirt from her cheek. By rubs, Zuko meant smears. He doesn't just smear the dirt, Zuko thinks that he has added more to. His suspicions are confirmed at the crinkling of Azula's nose.

"Zuzu, come here."

Zuko steps closer. Honestly, he doesn't know what he was expecting. She takes his sleeve, his lavish Fire Lord regalia and rubs her cheek clean. "Better, thank you." She remarks.