Siblings

Summary: A three-parter story about Zuko, Azula, their thoughts about each other, and their last conversation during the Final Battle

Disclaimer: I own nothing. ...not yet. :snickers evilly:

A/N: Azula's POV now! After this, only one last chapter to go!

Chapter 2: Jealousy, Hatred

Azula's POV

I hate you, Zuko –

Oh, wait. How rude of me. I never even uttered a greeting. Well then...

Hello, Zuk- Zuzu.

You hate it when I call you that, don't you? I don't have the slightest idea why that would be, though. Not that I care, not in the slightest. I just know that I came up with it. I even remember... being told that it was my first word.

Apparently it was your fault. I was in my crib, and you were hanging over the railing, trying to make me laugh or say you name. I managed to say "Zu", but I could never get the "ko"; but I knew even then that there were two parts to your mane, so I called you "Zuzu". Eventually, or course, I could say Zuko, but I guess that calling you Zuzu for so long just made it stick.

You didn't like it at first – thought it was annoying. But you slowly started to get used to it, and the only time you really didn't like it was when I called you Zuzu when your friends were around. Then you would scold me... and leave me alone while going off to play with them, leaving my young toddler self wondering what I did wrong…

But that's beside the point. The point is that I despise you. I despise you with every fiber of my being. I despise you so much!

Why?

Why, Azula? you would ask. Why do I hate you, when I was the favored child growing up, when I got everything, when I got all the attention, when I was the best? When it should be you hating me because I had everything and you had nothing? Well, I'll tell you.

It's because you took all of that away from me.

Not everything, in that literal sense, but you took away their worth.

I had the attention, the skills, the praise – but you? You had the love, something that I never had, something that I don't have, and now probably something that I never will have. I don't understand it, though. I know I did at one point, but now I don't. Now I understand something else: when I was younger, I was better. Better at everything. Better at bending, better at the academic portions of our life, a better speaker – hell, I was even more social than you, in a way…

And yet, you were still liked by so many more than I was... and I was hurt. Mother never liked me – to her, it was all about you. With others, she only spoke about you, unless they inquired about me. The same went when she was talking with Father. She spent endless time talking to you as well, and just spending time with you. The most time she ever spent talking to me was when I was about three, I think, (but I don't remember about what), and the most time she ever spend talking about me, or her own free will, was to wonder aloud, "What is wrong with that child?", and then the only time she ever spent beside me was during the meetings, where she had to sit near me, because she was out mother.

And when you showed some pathetic new trick and completely screwed up, Father's eyes showed embarrassment, shame, and disgust; all in good reason. But when you got back up, Mother? Mother's eyes showed nothing but pride. It was disgusting.

However, I could do the exact same things you could, but without screwing up. I could do it perfectly. Whatever you did, I did better. But when I looked into Father's eyes, and saw pride, I didn't want it. It wasn't like Mother's pride. Mother was proud of you, when you bended, but Father? He was proud of my abilities, but not of me. And, of course, I knew that Mother didn't care about what I could do. Not one bit. All the surprise and love and warmth in her eyes, directed at me every odd time, that was directed at me, she just put it there because it was her duty as a mother. She didn't really mean it. I know it.

She never cared for me anymore, ever since the day Father took me away from the palace. I know that you still remember it, so I don't have to remind you of what happened that day. But when I came back, you spent all your time with Mother, and Mother disliked me. No one ever spent any time with me, not you anymore, not Mother, and Father only spent time with me alone to train me. The only people I spend any time with were my friends from the Royal Fire Academy, but it was only because I was lonely, and they were there, so why not take advantage of that. At least then I wasn't alone then. But, they still couldn't replace you. For some reason, not one could, even though it would be just too easy to find another screw up somewhere. And yet, it wasn't, and I was so angry that you never spend any time with me anymore, and I had no idea why. And I still don't understand why Mother loved a screw up over me, back then, though. I don't understand how that's even possible.

Sometimes, though, I have an urge. An urge to travel back in time, back to when we were younger. When we were both more innocent than now, when our world wasn't yet corrupted by the war, or at least, when we didn't know of anything like that. We used to play together so much, Zuk-Zuz- ...brother. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if life were still like that. Or, at least, if we were still living with each other. Not that I care, of course. Why would I care about something as trivial as that, or even want it. So I really don't have the slightest idea as to why these urgings come and go as they please.

But soon, it will all be irrelevant. Mother will no longer hate me, because when I see her again, it will just be me, because I'll have gotten rid of you and out fuddy-duddy uncle. It will just be me, and without you there to steal away all her attention, she will have to love me, because I will be her only child. And who can hate her only child? No one, especially someone as soft as Mother!

Soon, Zuzu. Soon. Soon I will get rid of you, and of Uncle, and I will be the heir to the throne. Mother will come back, and she will have to love and pay attention to me. And you know what else? She will change Father, I know it, so when he looks at me when I do the best, like always, he will look at me with the pride that I want.

So look out, Zuko. Run, little Zuzu. You may be friends with the Avatar and his little posse, but not even he can protect you now. No one can. Look out, Zuzu.

I'm coming to get you.

Oh, and by the way, do you remember Mother telling us, every time we got into a rather loud and rough fight, that "In this day and age, it is so easy for people, old or young, to say what they think they feel, instead of what they actually do."

Do you understand? Because as much as I hate to admit it, I don't.

I hate you, Zuko.

To be continued...

A/N: And there's how Azula feels. I hope I did okay. What do you think? I know that sometimes I wrote that she was sad about leaving him in a way, but moments later she said she was happy. Well, it's sort of like she's confused, and she's not really sure of how she feels right now.

I tried to make her sort of creepy. Like not really creepy, or psychotic, but sort of her thoughts are all over the place. You sorta understand, right? She was different when she was younger, but she doesn't really remember much in detail, or even doesn't want to remember, and all she concentrates on now is what she wants to do at the moment.

I know that Azula hating Zuko because he had all of Ursa's love is used a lot, but I couldn't help but use it as well. It just seems like it fits her, somehow.

Anyways, again, this chapter might be a bit awkward, but personally, I think that I did pretty well! I did read it over, so I hope that there aren't that many mistakes. If there are, please tell me!

Constructive criticism! Yay! No flames, though, 'cuz if you do, I have three firebenders on my side: Iroh, Zuko, and Azula! …Well, maybe not Azula, who I think is a little bit more than angry at me for making her sound kinda crazy in this chapter... at any rate, please review! It will make me feel happy and loved, and it will give me incentive to make the next chapter! (You do want the next chapter, right?)