AN: Well look at that, another chapter only a week later. See, I'm all grown up now and can follow through on deadlines now.

Chapter 16: Reunion

Time slipped around Katara like a dream: hazy and not quite soluble. It was all too much. The bright blue daylight, the buzz of air, and far off chatter screamed at her, blinded her. When she spoke, the words came from somewhere else, when people spoke back she felt as though she was seated behind a wall of thick glass, or buried in the earth. The words were near, but never quite reached her.

The argument she had had with Iroh in the aftermath had been like an avalanche coming down on them. She remembered her rage, her body quivering in anger, the hot, salty sting of tears falling from her eyes and settling around her nose, draining down into her mouth, but she couldn't remember what she'd said.

"I did not want to bring you greater pain." He'd said. And "We can't be certain." His commitment to compassion and peacefulness clashed bitterly with her taste for violence. She got what Zuko had meant now, in his contempt for his uncle. Throw him in a fire and he'd offer you a biscuit.

Zuko was alive.

It was all she could think about. It was all consuming. Zuko was alive and she needed to get to him. Zuko was alive and he'd been alone. Zuko was alive and no one had told her. Zuko was alive so why was she so angry?

Shouldn't she be happy? Shouldn't she be filled with relief and hope? Zuko was alive and she wanted to drown every last person in the world, him included.

Zuko was alive and how could she not have known? Shouldn't she have felt it in her gut? She'd been so quick to accept it as truth, did she even care about him? Zuko was alive and he could be hurt. She'd abandoned him, left him alone in that awful palace with people who wanted to hurt him. She'd left him for dead, what would he think of her now?

Katara wanted to curl over and let the bile that had built inside her explode all over the halls. She wanted to wail and scream until her voice had left her completely. She wanted to dissolve into the air and turn to nothingness.

But Zuko was alive. And he needed her.

The world moved around her and she watched in passivity. Maybe she'd transcended to the spirit world. But when people spoke to her she answered, in a voice that surely couldn't be her own. Arrangements were made. When Iroh and the council suggested she stay at the Temple, for her own safety, she instructed them otherwise. She wouldn't waste another moment there.

The White Lotus's message had directed them to a small, coastal region in the Earth Kingdom, not far from the Western Air Temple. Two days travel by sea at most. Katara could hardly recall the journey from the Temple to where her ship had been docked. She must have said goodbyes, must have promised a swift return and held back wistful tears, but she couldn't recall. Even the ocean did nothing to comfort her. The rocking of the ship unsettled her as her mind wandered to all her possible futures. She finally understood seasickness.

They'd lied to the crew about where they were going and why: some story about meeting with the Governor of the Zeizhou province. When they'd gotten close to the coastline, on the second day, Iroh loudly proclaimed to the crew "I hear Yu Dao has an excellent shopping district." And gently suggested they all make the stop before continuing south.

Katara was mildly relieved to not see Fire Nation soldiers waiting for them when they docked. The town was small and barren, which on the bright side, would make Fire Nation soldiers easy to spot, but on the down side, would also make them easy to spot. They changed into more modest dress before disembarking, to blend in with the locals.

Iroh had told the crew they were welcome to join them, or take a look around the town, for lunch or whatever other business they'd like, most however, chose to stay on the ship. Katara and Iroh found themselves alone on a market street. Though it was not much of a market. The stands were made of rotting wood and many had given up on building any sort of structures at all, relying instead on a cart or bag full of whatever they were selling. Only three other townsfolk seemed to be interested in shopping today.

"Let's have a look around shall we?" Iroh said.

"You actually want to go shopping?" Katara exclaimed.

"Well, I don't exactly expect the White Lotus to be standing around with a sign to greet us, I will have to do some snooping." Iroh explained, and then began walking over to one of the merchants, conveniently choosing the one that seemed to be selling hot baked goods.

Katara sighed and began to wander around the market. The noise in her head had gotten louder as they'd gotten closer to shore, she couldn't seem to slow her thoughts, or even parse one from another, they rushed through in time with her frantically beating heart. Her legs felt as they might wiggle and collapse like blubber as she meandered through the market, doing a thoroughly crap job of snooping.

"Katara." Iroh called. "We must be going. We don't have much time." Katara followed after Iroh, out of the market and down a cobbled dirt road.

"Where are we going?" Katara finally asked.

"One of the shopkeepers has an injured man in her house. I told her we could help him, in exchange for all these cabbages." Iroh held up the bag to show Katara. Indeed, the sack was bulging and overflowing with round green vegetables.

"You offered my healing to a stranger for a bunch of cabbages?" Katara said in shock.

"Well when she told me of the man's misfortune, I knew you could help him. I know you would have helped him anyway, but why not make the most of it?" Iroh grinned. Katara scowled again.

"Iroh we don't have time for this we have-" She faltered when Iroh's grin fell, and he suddenly looked very solemn and serious. Oh. He was speaking in code.

Iroh ushered Katara down the dusty street. All the houses were smashed together, almost like someone had stood at the ends of the street and somehow pushed them together. They came to the end of the street, and Iroh walked up to one of the houses, encased on both sides by buildings twice its height. The house was built out of tan mud bricks, and held together by bamboo corners.

Iroh knocked on the door, which cracked open. Katara saw Iroh whisper something to whoever was on the other side but couldn't guess what he was saying. Abruptly, the door swung open, revealing a man in tan, baggy clothes, and an apron, and black slicked back hair, wispy from balding. He couldn't have been older than Katara's father, but his age was exaggerated by his sunspots and baggy eyes.

"Come in, come in." Leading them into the small house. Katara and Iroh followed him into a small kitchen, where a woman stood over a giant, steaming pot, stirring with both hands.

"Yuki, this man has brought us a healer." The man said, and the woman put down her stirring spoon and walked around to the other side of the counter. She looked less downtrodden than the man, with bright eyes and her hair neatly plaited down the back, the whisps sticking to her forehead from the steam.

"Thank you so much for coming." She said to Katara.

"Where is he?" Katara asked, she hadn't meant to say it so harshly.

"He-" Yuki glanced at the older man, who gave a slight nod. "-is resting now. We've been treating him for over a month, but his injuries were quite severe, it's good you're here." She didn't know who they were, Katara noted. Or this had all been one big mistake and the man they'd been treating wasn't Zuko at all. A small part of Katara hoped it wasn't.

"I need to see him." Katara snapped.

"Of course, he's upstairs, through the first door. Is there anything you require?"

"No." Katara said. "I'll-" She didn't finish whatever she was going to say about doing a diagnostic on him first, or whatever other spoiled fish explanation she was going to give, because she was already moving toward the stairs. She didn't wait for Iroh, she hardly waited for her own feet to move with her. Had she had more sense she might have knocked, or at least opened the door gently, quietly, rather than all but running through it as she threw it open.

The darkness of the room stopped her. Despite the clear and sunny sky outside, the room was shrouded in darkness. Small glimpses of light slipped through boarded up windows and illuminated the faintest outline of furniture. A bed, and as Katara's eyes adjusted to the darkness, a figure on the bed, their shallow breath filling the silence of the room.

"Zuko?" The word came out fractured and dry in her mouth, hardly passing a whisper. The man didn't stir. She came to the bedside, where he was turned away from her, back bare and curled up on himself. And in the dim light she could see his familiar shape. She shook unexpectedly, as a sob she'd forgotten escaped her lips. She hadn't felt it before. She hadn't allowed herself to feel anything. All of her emotions had stayed locked on the surface, removed from where the truth of herself lived at her core. Despite the darkness, and the tears blurring her vision, she finally felt she could see. Her ears felt like they had popped, the nearness of the world closing back around her. Her body fell on solid ground.

Zuko was alive.

He was having that dream again. Zuko realized, not unhappily. It had bothered him at first, feeling the comfort of her warm smile, and caring eyes, only to lose her to wakefulness, when the pain and isolation came for him once more. Now he didn't mind it so much. It was a chance to see her face, to pretend for one moment that he was anywhere else, that she had come to rescue him. Cool respite from the quickly collapsing hellfire of his reality.

"Zuko." Her hand was cold on his shoulder. There was a tremor in her voice that wasn't quite right, like she'd been crying. She was never upset in his dreams. Angry, maybe. He'd had plenty of dreams where she was angry, those ones almost weren't so bad because at least waking up offered a reprieve. As if he'd wouldn't trade an eternity of her berating for being anywhere but here.

She didn't sound angry now though.

"Zuko." She said again, louder and her hand on his shoulder shook. He didn't dare open his eyes, the edge of wakefulness, when he was not quite asleep, rather having succumbed to his hysteria, was when he heard her best, as soon as he opened his eyes he'd be awake for real and she would turn to smoke.

"Please wake up." It came out as a sob. As if he wasn't only sleeping. And he couldn't resist. His eyes drifted open and he let his body roll onto his side. Katara stared down at him with watery eyes.

"Oh Spirits" She crashed into him, burying her face into his neck and letting out a wrecked sob. Her hair splayed across his face, she smelled just as he remembered. She was warm and so solid, even as she shook, like she was real.

Katara didn't hold him long, releasing him and settling back to they were eye to eye. She looked the same, it had only been a month, maybe two after all, most people didn't change so drastically in such a short span of time. Most people weren't him.

"You're alive." She looked in awe.

"Are you real?" He asked, he was nearly sure, this time. Though, he always felt so sure. Every time he drifted into a fantasy filled sleep and saw her face, or his mother's or- he was always so sure that it was real. Though those other times she hadn't looked so crips, had she? She hadn't smelled so strongly of fresh sea, had she? She hadn't felt so solid, so real, or had she? Maybe he'd thought the same things last time.

Katara laughed, inconceivably, then joked on a sob as she nodded. When she lurched forward, hands clutching his neck, and kissed him, it didn't feel like a dream. Dreams were built on memories and she'd never kissed him like this. It was less like a kiss and more like collapsing, like she had been pulled into him. She kissed him like it was an accident, something she hadn't planned, or expected it, no pretense.

It was a sturdy, assured kiss, and when she pulled away it was only to rest her forehead against his. Zuko's face was wet, either from her tears or his own, he didn't realize he'd been crying.

"I thought you-" Katara said, sitting back, but losing herself to tears again. "I thought."

"I know." He rasped. "I know. I'm so sorry Katara. I should have- I-."

She shushed him. "No. Don't, it doesn't matter now. You're okay." He wasn't. Not in any sense of the word. But he suddenly felt as though he could be.

"How did you get here? Did you get Li Han's letter?" Katara nodded again.

'Iroh got it. He's-he's here. I should go get," She shifted to stand up but Zuko's hand caught her forearm.

"Don't go." She tensed . "Just, not yet. Just- wait a little longer." He pleaded with her, and she slowly settled back down on the bed.

Katara did eventually leave to get Iroh. Zuko tried to quell the fear that when she disappeared from the room she would be gone for good, evaporating back into his memory. But he could hear the quiet pad of her footsteps on the stairs, and the muffled voices in the room below. He couldn't have been alone more than a minute before the door opened again, this time featuring a new silhouette.

"It's so dark in here." His Uncle commented, and before Zuko could protest, the candles in the room all came to life. Despite the gentleness of their glow, Zuko felt as if he had been blinded. He slammed his eyes shut in response.

Iroh came and settled himself on the edge of the bed and let the silence fill the room. Zuko finally relented and opened his eyes, sitting up as he did.

Iroh finally spoke, "I'm so sorry my nephew. I should have done something far earlier." His voice was quiet and grave. The orange light illuminated the side of Iroh's face, still turned from Zuko, giving away the tears on his face.

"It's okay uncle, you didn't know where I was." Zuko had burned through his anger a long time ago. It wasn't Iroh's, or Katara's or anyone's fault that he'd been left behind. No one but his own, he had told them to leave. He'd made Katara promise, he had no one but himself to be angry with. That turned out to be a much more sustainable anger.

"That is not what I mean. We all saw the signs, perhaps even before you were born, and yet, we did nothing. I did nothing. Even when I knew my brother's actions had gone too far, I did nothing. For that I am truly sorry."

"You couldn't have known." After all, it's not like Ozai had decided in advance that he'd wanted to kill his own son. Ozai was an opportunist, it was Zuko's fault for provoking him. For providing Ozai the opportunity, for betting on his father's unwillingness to kill his own son. It was a bad bet, Zuko should have known as much.

"I did. My brother is a hateful, vicious man. I turned a blind eye to his violence, until it was too late. I knew what he was capable of, yet I didn't intervene. You're a child, you deserved my protection." Zuko was about to protest that he wasn't a child, but instead what came out was a gasping sob. His shoulders shook, and Iroh finally turned and enveloped Zuko into an embrace. Once Zuko began properly sobbing, he wasn't sure he would ever stop.

His own father. The thought crashed through him over and over like waves. His own father had done this to him, tried to kill him, had killed the Avatar. Zuko should have known better, the thought echoed through him once more, as it had since the moment his father's fire had hit him. Of course Ozai would have tried to kill his own son, he'd always hated Zuko, never before had he been relenting, so why would this be any different? But still, Zuko had been caught off guard. Because what kind of parent kills their own son. It shouldn't have mattered how defiant, or incompetent, or petulant, or any of the other well of insults Ozai had ascribed to him over the years, he was still Ozai's son. Ozai was a monster. Not like Zuko hadn't known. But the thought settled into him in a way it hadn't before. It wouldn't have mattered if Zuko did anything different, because no one deserves to be hurt by their own father. Even him.

Zuko cried, and cried, until there was another creak of the door, and Katara returned, holding a large bucket.

"I- sorry, Yuki said most of your injuries were healed by now, but I wanted to try anyway. I can come back though." Zuko sniffed and sat upright, out of his uncle's grip.

"No, that's okay, um" Yuki was right, most of his injuries didn't hurt anymore, some had never hurt to begin with, in the places where the nerves had died. Nevertheless, Zuko had spent the better part of a month dreaming about the hot-cooling relief of Katara's healing.

"It's not safe to linger here, I will go make arrangements for our departure." Iroh said standing, pausing at the door and turning back. "I am so happy to see you Nephew." Then he left, and Katara made her way to the bed, setting down the pail of water and sitting opposite of him on the bed.

Her eyes studied him carefully, and he could see her eyebrows waver, as if she was fighting to keep her face neutral. She hadn't been able to see him properly before, Zuko realized. He felt warmth rise to his cheeks, along with a dry, sick feeling in his stomach. Zuko was reminded of when they had first met, how she'd stared at him with big, scared eyes. Like he both terrified and amazed her. He remembered how she'd looked so young, like one of the porcelain dolls Azula had beheaded as a kid. She didn't look young now, or terrified. Her eyes were red rimmed and sallow, and there was a hardness to her expression, a set in her jaw.

He wanted to apologize again, or ask her to turn away, say that she didn't have to look at him "I-"

"Does it hurt?" Katara beat him to whatever it might have been that he was going to say.

He shook his head. "Not anymore."

"I'm so sorry Zuko, I never should- I should have been there." She said, closing her eyes as if to hold in the tears. He wondered if it hurt to look at him.

"Don't, it's not your fault, I told you to leave me."

"I shouldn't have listened."

"It doesn't matter now." She looked at him like he'd said something horrible. Her hand came up to his cheek, tracing the edge of where his scars began.

"It hasn't been too long, I can probably heal some of the damage, but I don't think I can do anything for the scars that are already healed."

"I know, it's okay." He said and Katara turned to bend the water out of the bucket. He watched carefully as she applied her healing to his shoulder, it felt cool at first, then icy and bright, like chewing on a mint leaf. The muscles in his shoulder twisted and pushed back and Zuko winced.

"Okay?" He nodded. Still, she decided to move on from his shoulder, instead moving her water to his eye. "This is weird but try and keep your eye open." It felt like plunging into a pool of water. He'd hardly been able to feel anything on the right side of his face, but he could feel her healing him deeper, underneath the skin. The cool built up over the minutes, until the prickly ice began to feel hot, like burning, like fire. Zuko cried out.

He hadn't meant to, but the water evaporated from his skin and Katara was leaning over him with concern in her eyes. "Sorry." She said twice. "We should stop for now." Then she led him back to a sitting position.

"How do you feel?" He rotated his right shoulder, it was less stiff than he remembered. The scars hadn't been erased, but when he looked at Katara, he found light hitting both of his eyes. He closed his left eye and saw a subtle orange glow in his right eye, not enough to make out any shapes, more like looking at the sun with closed eyes.

"Good, I think that helped a little." He tried to smile at her, aiming for reassurance, but the concern in her eyes didn't relent.

"Iroh's probably waiting for us, we should get ready to go." She said, turning to stand up. He followed her, finding his smock on the floor and wrapping it around himself. He didn't have any shoes, he realized. It hadn't been a thought before, but whatever clothes he had come to them in were long gone.

"I don't have any shoes." He told Katara sheepishly.

"Oh. Um, Li Han probably has some for you to borrow." She said, looking around the room. "Is there anything else you want to take with you?" Katara asked. Zuko thought about the cane he'd used in the early weeks, or the book that Yuki had finally given him, full of old Earth Kingdom folk tales, Nori would most likely miss it if he took it. All his other earthly possessions were long gone.

"No, nothing." He said and followed Katara out of the room. She offered him her hand as they approached the stairs, he didn't need the help, and part of him wanted to say so, but instead he let her grip his hand and descended the stairs in step.

Downstairs, Iroh let out a deep bellow, but whatever chatter had caused it died when Zuko and Katara entered the room.

"You're leaving us?" Yuki said, gently, as though she already knew the answer.

"Our ship is docked in the port, we need to leave before someone notices it. We can't let anyone know we were here."

"Of course." Yuki nodded, and Zuko got the impression that perhaps she knew who he was all along. She didn't seem like someone who had just been given news that her mysterious houseguest was in fact a banished prince.

"Thank you. Both of you. If it weren't for-" Zuko trailed off, the words caught in his throat.

"Let's not dwell on it. It is our honor to serve the white lotus." Li Han said, and they both gave slight bows.

"Is Nori-"

"At school." Li Han answered. Zuko didn't feel right leaving without saying goodbye to her, though perhaps it was for the best. She'd have questions for them.

"Tell her I said goodbye."

"We will." Yuki said, then stepped forward to hand Zuko a wrapped package. "Here, I know it might not be much help now that you've got your healer, but just in case."

"Thank you." Zuko said, then hugged her. Li Han came up behind Yuki.

"You've done well my boy, I have no question that you will make a full recovery." That didn't sound quite right. Zuko would never recover from this, not really. His wounds were closed and the pain might subside, but he would forever be scarred, Li Han must have known well. Zuko had never found his pleasantries comforting, but he embraced him just the same.

"The White Lotus thanks you both, for your tremendous service, and I am eternally grateful for what you have done for my nephew." Iroh said.

"It has been an honor, Grand Master." Li Han said, and with that Iroh turned to open the front door, letting in the bright blue daylight.

Azula loathed Omashu. The entire Earth Kingdom really, absolutely abhorrent. It was dull and gray and so dusty. Azula felt like she had been sitting in a sauna for weeks, but it wasn't even hot, just dry and disgusting. Her facialist was going to have a field day when Azula returned, even with her slathering on moisturizing salve four times a day Azula still felt like a dried out carcass. A dusty, dried up carcass.

"I'm bored." Azula sighed, from her place on Mai's sitting chair. Mai looked up from her bed, and the lame serial she had been reading.

"What do you want me to do about it?" Mai said.

"Aren't you bored too?"

"It's boring here." Mai shrugged. "I warned you before you came." Which, yes, was true. Just as it was also technically true that Azula didn't have to be here. True, her father had suggested she make the journey to help with the embassy, but he didn't say how long she had to stay, and it was clear there was not much that needed to be done in the way of political molding. The King of Omashu, was an ancient decrepit man, eccentric, but decrepit nonetheless. However, father also hadn't necessarily told her to return either, and Azula wasn't interested in getting further into his bad graces.

"Well yes, you did. But it's hard to believe that a place could be so mind-pleasingly dreadful." Azula said.

"You could go back home." Mai shrugged. Azula huffed, Mai, to all her strengths as a friend, was horribly inept at offering sympathy, it was one of the reasons Azula liked her. Most days.

"It's just so dreadful there. Mother just sulks around the palace all day, weeping all over the place. And the whole city acts like someone just died, which, well they did. But still. It's horrible depressing." Which was true of course, as much as Azula loathed this wretched city she didn't want to go home. The whole capitol reeked with scandal and melancholia. Azula was typically a fan of scandal, but not when it reflected on her, even less so when people were looking at her with pitying eyes, absolutely disgusting.

"And besides." Azula continued. "I wanted to comfort you." They didn't talk about Zuko. It was a rule. They danced around the subject, Mai didn't seem to be affected one way or another. If she cared at all, she was keeping it deep inside like a respectable noblewoman.

Mai gave her a bemused glance, as if silently asking Azula if she really wanted to bring up the topic. Of course she did, Azula didn't say things by accident. And the thought of her brother, though unpleasant, pulled at her like an itch she couldn't help but want to pick at." Don't you think I should be the one comforting you?" Mai asked.

"Oh please. I'm fine." Azula retorted. "It's upsetting, of course. But it's not like we were ever that close." Azula had gotten very good at balancing her performance of contemptful grief. She was shocked, she was heartbroken, she was regretful, if only someone had noticed his sick mind, perhaps the Avatar would have lived. She was coping, she told people. All solemn and wistful, they believed her so easily. She let her apathy be misinterpreted as conflicted emotions.

But that was the nice thing about Omashu, the thing that made all the dust and dirty earth worms worth it: no one cared if she spoke ill of the dead. "Would it have been nice if my brother hadn't gone and lost it, bringing an unrelenting stain onto our dynasty? Of course. But, it's not like I'm surprised, Zuzu was always so misguided and emotional."

"You're not? Surprised."

"No. Of course you would be though, you always did see the best in him, so annoying."

"It's just hard to believe that he'd do something like that." Mai finally said, bingo. A genuine emotion, only the slightest quiver in her voice gave it away.

"Murder suicide? No need to tip toe around it."

"I just can't understand why he'd do it. I mean, killing the Avatar is…" A part of Azula felt pity. Of course Mai didn't understand why Zuko would do it, because he didn't. Of course, that wasn't information Mai, or anyone else could be privy to. And watching the girl try to wrap her mind around the slanderous accusation was delightful.

"He went crazy. Crazy people don't make rational choices." Azula said. "Really Mai, Zuko's always been weak minded. My father did you a favor, sending your family here, you dodged a fireball." Mai was quiet for a moment. Azula wondered if she was going to try and defend him. She'd yet to, but it was only a matter of time.

"My parents have arranged another marriage." Mai said instead.

"Not to someone here." Azula could hardly think of a worse fate, married to an Earth Bender, it was worse than Zuko's arrangement.

"Agni no. I'd rather swallow stinging nettles. To the son of Admiral Chan." That was interesting news. Azula'd met him once or twice, quite the wet blanket. And below Mai's station, but an eager politician.

"Well he's… decent."

"Is he? I haven't met him." Mai only seemed half interested.

"I have. He's no prince but you could do worse." Azula never understood what Mai saw in her brother anyway, besides a crown. Zuko was so emotional, and mushy, like the inside of a sticky bun, not well suited for Mai's reserved presence. She'd be much better suited with someone who had the same apathetic interest in her as she had for the rest of the world.

"Well unfortunately I think the Fire Nation has run out of eligible princes." Mai didn't seem bitter about it. That was good, Mai was a smart girl, she'd kept her rage about her and Zuko's broken engagement away from Azula, who was thoroughly disinterested, but Azula was still aware it had happened (in part due to Ty Lee's habit of sharing every piece of news about their friend in unfiltered detail.)

"Not true, Lu Ten's still unmarried." Mai snorted.

"Azula, he's twice our age. Besides, I think his proclivities lie elsewhere."

"You're right. That idiot's going to run the family legacy into the ground. Uncle should have arranged something for him ages ago." Officially, Lu Ten was still on the hunt for the perfect wife, but everyone who knew anything knew that he was never planning on finding her. "Although, I suppose I should be thanking him. Without any heirs, Father is next in line, and I doubt he'll outlive Lu Ten, even if my cousin is an idiot."

"Which means you'll be next in line." Mai mused. Azula had long ago realized that as unsavory as Lu Ten's inability to produce an heir might be, it was beneficial to her family in the long run. Of course, in days past those dreams had always came with a significant roadblock.

"I suppose the one I really should be thanking is Zuzu, if he hadn't gone and offed himself I never would have had a chance."

"Azula." Mai said, a bit shocked, it sounded too much like a scolding. Azula's blood went icy. Even now, in death, Mai was aligning herself with Zuko over her. It wasn't fair.

"Well it's true. He would have made for a sorry Fire Lord anyway. He had the political intuition of a komodo chicken. Really, he did us all a favor by taking himself out of the game." Azula said, brightly, feeling the words prick and crack at Mai's stone composure.

"Azula! You can't just say things like that." Mai responded, and it sounded like her mother, as if she was surprised Azula could be so mean. Mai should know better than that.

"Why not? It's true. Zuko was completely useless. He was a total embarrassment to the Fire Nation. We should all be thankful that he's gone." Mai sat up on her elbow.

"How can you say that?" Mai snapped, letting her voice crack. "He was your brother Azula. He was- and he." Azula gave herself away, smirking at Mai so she knew she'd lost. Sloppy of her, to forget the game they were playing. Mai's anger subsided and she let out a huffed breath, realizing she'd been played.

"Careful Mai, if I didn't know better I'd think you cared. Not very becoming of a lady." Mai glared at her, surely imagining much more venomous words, but then retreated back into her reading. Azula settled back in the chair. Feeling thoroughly entertained. Perhaps it wasn't fair of her, messing with her friend like that. It didn't matter. Life wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that Mai preferred Azula's brother over her, even in death. It wasn't fair that despite all his faults Zuko had been above her in station simply because he'd had luckier circumstances of birth. It wasn't fair that everyone expected her to be something she wasn't, especially when what she was, was magnificent. It wasn't fair that he'd gone and gotten himself killed, leaving her alone with their insufferable parents. She'd never asked for such a stupid, petulant brother, with his moral code and obstinate idealism. Life wasn't fair, why should she offer it fairness in return?

Later, that night, when the lights had gone out, and Mai had silently conceded her loss by calling in one of Omashu's 'premier' entertainers, who played some awful, squeaky instrument and cried when Azula told him such, they settled into the darkness of Mai's room. ( Azula had insisted on bringing a cot into Mai's room when she had arrived, and promptly comendered Mai's bed for her own sleeping. There were other rooms in the estate, Mai knew, but she didn't bring it up, and didn't comment on Azula's choice to not sleep alone at all.) Only then, did Mai's voice break the silence.

"You're not really glad he's dead, are you?" Mai asked, and Azula allowed the question to linger. She'd never said she was glad had she? She certainly wasn't glad to have her home filled with awkward mourning, or have a mother who had become useless in her grief. She wasn't glad that she'd come to this awful city, because her father didn't want her interfering in whatever plot he'd orchestrated next, even if all she wanted was to help. She wasn't glad that anytime the mood struck to provoke her excitable brother, she had to turn her attention to much less entertaining victims. She wasn't pleased, in the slightest. Inconvenienced, annoyed, bitterly vindicated, perhaps, but glad wouldn't be a term she would use.

Azula didn't answer. Mai didn't ask again. The question evaporated into the dark and the quiet as if it had never been there at all.

AN: This chapter has been giving me trouble for literal years, but it's over now, it can't hurt me anymore. As always, I'm a perpetually lazy editor, so if you notice any silly mistakes or just things you don't like in general, please let me know.