She has left Chin.

That was her only intent. But she knows that, that isn't good enough.

Not when her WuJing is within walking distance.

It's desecrated, skeletal shadow haunts her. She knows that she needs to get out from under its shade.

There is nothing in the Earth Kingdom for her anymore anyhow and somehow it has managed to instill more hurt and trauma than the Fire Nation had.

It is time to go home.

She isn't sure what she will do when she gets there, she is certain that they won't even take her back. Or that they will but they will transfer her right back into an institution where she belongs.

But she is going to do it.

She is going home.

.oOo.

The grasslands are so empty and so vast. And this time she only has her own mind for company. She hasn't even a mongoose-lizard nor an ostrich horse. And by Agni, her mind isn't good company.

It yells at her. Chastises her. Mocks her for being too weak to protect herself and her family. Mocks her doubly for letting herself sink so far under. She thinks that she has managed to put herself in a worse state than the one she had been in on the day of Sozin's Comet. At least she'd had some fight in her then. Some scrap of dignity to be retained. This Azula is simply pathetic.

Pathetic and lonely and directionless. More so than before.

At one point, somewhere around a week and a half into the grassland she stops walking. Her feet are sore and her shoes are becoming worn. Her back aches and her belly pangs more often than not, she has nothing to fill it with. Having exhausted all other options, she resorts to eating grass. She finds out the hard way that this is a mistake.

That night was spent without any progress at all.

That night was spent doubled over and queasy and heaving.

By the end of it her sides ache and her stomach is somehow emptier and achier than before. She thinks that she may be seeing her loved ones sooner than she had imagined.

She is in a much worse state than before she'd consumed the grass. Her throat is dry and her body shakes. She quite literally drags herself for several excruciating miles. Only when she hears the sound of a stream does she will herself to her feet.

And only when she actually sees the stream does she hasten her pace. She is desperate with thirst and near ferally ravenous. She cups her hands and takes mouthfuls of water, lapping at it as though it will disappear if she doesn't consume it fast enough.

She has the sense to stop for a moment and refill her waterskins. She is thankful that she had found the courage and willpower to enter Wujing one last time to gather some supplies for her journey.

Hunger makes fishing difficult, but desperation makes it doable. She cooks her first fish while she catches her next few.

Her next dozen.

She isn't sure when she will come by her next meal so she eats until she is nearly sick.

Until she feels sluggish as she forces herself onwards. She thinks that she is only delaying the inevitable. The grasslands had been nearly uncrossable with a mount, to take them on foot, she realizes, had been an extended invitation to death.

Occasionally her mind wanders to a more pleasant place.

Occasionally the field resembles a hill on the southern outskirts of Wujing.

This hill had been the perfect place for a picnic. The day before, they had made kites. She had made herself a blue dragon, Hajime had made himself a plain diamond with bright and intricate drawings, and Atsu tried his very hardest to make a badgermole.

Food was anything but scarce on this grassy hill. Ojihara's family had come to join them and with baskets of fresh fruits and vegetables.

And by late afternoon, it was a town event.

But to Azula it will always be a family memory. She was only two or three months pregnant then, but Hajime still pampered her as though she were at least six months along. She held her kite out and watched Atsu and Caihong race with theirs down the hillside. She wasn't sure who the third child was but she tripped and Atsu helped her up. She remembers the feeling of Hajime's arms wrapping around her middle. The feeling of his lips against the nape of her neck. She remembers the gentle caress of his hand over her bump and the breeze that tugged at her hair. She remembers having cupped her hand over his.

She remembers the moment being ruined by the breeze picking up their picnic blanket and slamming into the both of them. Their kites had knotted around one another. She remembers that she wasn't angry or vexed. In fact she vividly recalls Hajime practically falling over with laughter as she tried to untangle the both of them from the blanket. If only the kites hadn't tangled them up as well. Ultimately Seukhyun was the one to free them.

She remembers declaring that she was going to go back to eating strawberries and letting the children play with kites. She remembers Hajime laying down next to her and feeding her the strawberries.

She misses being spoiled like that.

She misses hearing his laugh.

Hearing Atsu's laugh.

Misses laughter in general.

That day she learns not to take things for granted.

.oOo.

She draws back and Sokka says nothing for a very long time. Agonizingly long. She should have just stumbled her way through an awkward declaration of love. That probably would have been far less awkward.

Perhaps she had gauged their interactions the wrong way. Her face is flushed quite vividly.

Sokka still doesn't say a thing.

He isn't Hajime and she shouldn't have made a move so abruptly.

She would rise up and make a hasty retreat for her room, but they are still sitting upon her bed. Of course she could retreat to any of the guest rooms or the training room or perhaps to take another bath just to have a bath…

She hasn't quite stood fully when she feels a hand come around her wrist. Sokka gently pulls her back to the mattress, still silent. She thinks that he might be looking for something to say.

And she supposes that it would have been rude to have kissed and fled.

"Sorry." She grumbles at last.

"For what?" He asks.

She touches her fingers to his lips. "I thought that you…" he gives her fingers a small kiss before taking her hand and giving the back of it another small kiss.

"I don't want you to apologize." He rubs the back of his head. "I was actually kind of waiting for you to do that."

"You were?"

"Sure." He replies. "Though I kind of thought that you were going to kiss me while we were gardening."

Apparently, even when she has the right emotion, she still has the wrong timing. It had been Hajime who had done much of the work. Hajime who had guided her in the right direction. There had been so many little signs and hints along the way. And then he'd ultimately given her their first real kiss.

It had felt right. Natural.

This feels different.

It feels jarring and frightening somehow.

And maybe it is because she is still apprehensive about finding love at all. With anyone who isn't Hajime. She isn't sure that it would be fair to begin a relationship when her last one is still so heavily there. She knows what she will do if she should choose to pursue. She knows that she will compare every little aspect of Sokka-every little thing that he does-to Hajime. And how can she do that to him? How can she put him in a position where he'd be second choice to a dead man.

She doesn't think that she can do this. It had been an impulse decision. A spur of the moment action.

She doesn't even know if she loves him; isn't love supposed to take time? It had taken her a year to decide to marry Hajime, and months before she even kissed him. It had taken time and she has only been around Sokka for a short while. And yet it feels the same as it felt with Hajime. Sokka is fun. He is patient. He is easy to be around.

She is hard to be around.

Hard and awkward and confused.

She stiffly apologizes again, gets to her feet, and in one fluid motion, pulls herself from his grasp and out into the hallway.

Somehow this feels just as wrong as kissing him.

She doesn't want to make a rebound of him, neither does she want to write him off.

Azula steals away into the palace hot springs. She casts her robes aside and submerges herself as though her conflict and distress can roll off of her body with the steam. As though she can scrub her troubles away with a bar of soap and a handful of shampoo.

She stays in the water until her skin goes wrinkly. And then a little longer after that.

She hadn't the foresight to grab her pajamas so she changes back into her day clothes.

Somewhere deep within, she hopes that Sokka will be sitting on her bed when she gets back.

He isn't.

She thinks that she must love him if it hurts this bad to see that he wouldn't be waiting on her to get it together. She is a fool and she doesn't know what she is doing. He doesn't have time to wait for her to figure it out. Likely, he thinks that she has been playing some cruel game with him, just for the sake of making him upset. It is what she would have done some years earlier.

At least she won't have to worry about tragically losing another lover. She had a second chance and she has already let it go.

And for what?

Yes, she definitely loves him.

She would be able to sleep if she didn't.