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THREE
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TUESDAY
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Today she has a playdate with Princess Azula.
She remembers having gone home the previous night to her family's estate, lamenting the end of the day once again as the she bid her goodbye to the young royal. Azula is fun even though she can be quite mean at times. More than mean actually but Ty Lee does not think she can find an appropriate word for it. That same day, the princess has pushed her to the ground when Ty Lee performed a better cartwheel, her mocking laughter a cacophony of a box full of crickets. Not the most pleasant of sounds. Mai later said that she should have learned something from the experience, that she should have known. Ty Lee agreed. The Princess obviously did not appreciate being second.
"Come on, Azula! You are almost as good as me!"
Push. The second of the day. Two victims, no three. Mai was drenched. Ty Lee was cognizant. Zuko thought they—girls- were crazy. And Azula wore a sardonic grin, the closest that it would come to a happy one. "Almost is never good enough."
But Azula is fun. She is smart. She is funny. And she thinks of those silly pranks that Ty Lee ends up being conspirator to. Not that she really minds. It is not that unpleasant even if occasionally the not-so-friendly push comes to a painful shove. And Mai gets mad at her for just taking it all, for being such a pushover, a doormat. You two are such… Ty Lee likes Azula. Ty Lee is naïve. Ty Lee is Azula's friend. Azula is Ty Lee's friend.
Forever.
She dreams of dark-haired princesses killing the bad guys, of apathetic bestfriends finally smiling at the sight of her most gallant prince. Ty Lee dreams of being a princess too, sitting on a throne of blue flames.
Blue?
She wakes up with Princess Ursa hovering above her, the sight of cream-colored ceilings instead of the roof in her poster bed. The sheets smell different. And she does not hear the incessant chatter of her six other sisters during the mornings that she is used to, does not hear the drone of machinery that has defined the mornings of Caldera. Birds. The sound of nature. Princess Ursa. This morning, Ty Lee wakes up confused.
Blink. Darkness. Blink again. On closer inspection, the woman in the dark red robe who leans over her does not look like Ursa at all. The gold eyes, dark hair are there. Prominent cheekbones. Lush, red lips. The classically attractive features. But she does not look as perpetually sad and solemn as Azula's mother did, the kind woman with the calm voice, who always smiled at them. There is a crinkle of question in this woman's brows and the creases that formed on her beautiful face are sharper, more angular than even the stern, reprimanding countenance from the Princess Ursa she just saw yesterday. Her lips are not pouted demurely, curled and rough instead from present biting.
"It's time to wake up Ty Lee." The woman's voice interrupts her thoughts and the desperate attempt to match the familiar and motherly Ursa to this rather intimidating stranger dissolves. She speaks with a purr, with the authority Ursa herself does not wield. And the illusion and fantasy crash. Ty Lee feels a hand settle on her shoulders, rubbing circles. The caress feels somewhat familiar. "How much do you remember?"
For some reason, the question makes Ty Lee shrink to herself. Her form crumples, trying to draw distance.
In futility.
"Who are you?" she breathes instead, staring back in awe and managing to be calm as anyone could be. Is she kidnapped?
"It's me. Azula."
Ty Lee feels the bed shift downwards, weighed down by the shock. Her entire world falls and It is dragging her down but it must be her imagination because several tense seconds later, she discovers that they are still in the exact, same position. The woman holds her shoulder, waits. Ty Lee must have been frozen, her limbs unresponsive. "Do you remember me?" the woman prods gently. Poke. Ty Lee does not know why she thought there is something wrong with that tone.
"Azula…" she murmurs, disbelief escaping. For this is impossible. She just saw Azula yesterday. Frown. "But… you're all grown up!"
The moment Ty Lee hears the words she thought of spoken by another unfamiliar voice she freezes. She opens her mouth to test it once more but no sound come out.
However, the woman continues to be unperturbed. Ty Lee feels the hand grip her shoulders tighter. It is then that she realized that it had been trembling. "Hmmm.. Well, how old are you Ty Lee?" the woman asks. She sounds composed, well put-together. She sounds like a dependable adult.
And come to think of it…
"Azula?" Ty Lee is still confused. Because there is just no way. True, those are the same golden eyes that flickered at every ingenious scheme to put Zuko and Mai together, even if it has narrowed through age. The woman's forelocks are longer, hair cascading in a pool of dark tresses and freed from the boyish topknot that the Princess insists on sporting. One lock of hair falls on the space between her eyes, the rest of it disheveled from sleep. But this woman fulfills the promise of beauty that Ty Lee always saw on her young friend, the already glowing gem morphine to an even more brilliant diamond. This woman, though not really dressed like one… looks like a Princess. "Azula?"
The woman sighs. Long-suffering. "Believe it or not, it's me. Azula. Your friend." She softens her expression, looks at her expectantly. It is almost a smile. "Now, how old are you?"
Still stunned, Ty Lee finds herself murmuring. "Nine."
Ty Lee feels that she has given the wrong answer somehow.
"I see." Another sigh. Both hands are placed on her shoulders now and Azula's eyes are smoldering, intent. Ty Lee finds herself mesmerized. They are so beautiful. So beautiful.
Azula is so beautiful.
Watch this.
Sigh. "Let me tell you one thing, Ty Lee." She takes a deep breath. "You are twenty six now." Wait, what?
The woman that looks so much like her best friend and claims to be so does not even give her a chance to react.
"And I'm Azula." She repeats briskly. Ty Lee's breathing quickens. "You are my wife."
….
.
.
Ty Lee has an aunt who lives with another woman. At one point, she saw them kiss. Or perhaps their faces were just too close, like she saw the actors in Love Amongst the Dragons do onstage. When Ty Lee told the tale to her sisters, they did not believe her.
Frustrated because she became the week's laughingstock among the siblings, she had consulted Azula who is just about the smartest person she knew. The Princess had frowned, gave her a long look and asked. "Are you sure of what you have seen?" Her cold inquiry reminded her of one of the Academy's guidance counselors; whenever they think she deserves detention. But Azula was a thousand times scarier (and prettier). Guidance counselors cannot threaten to tell on her daddy to banish you and the rest of your peasant family. That is Azula's favorite word. Peasant.
"Of course, I am!" Ty Lee chirped, with as much indignation as she could muster. Then trailed off as Azula continued to stare skeptically, thin eyebrows raised.. "Or maybe I wasn't." She fisted her hands, describing with crude gestures what she had seen. She felt desperate. "But they did this!" Smooch sounds.
Mai was the second smartest person Ty Lee knew but her first suggestion was something that Ty Lee found ludicrous. "They couldn't be lovers!" she insisted, disgusted by the very idea. Mai just shrugged. She had not heard of any story involving two Princesses who love each other. Or a Princess charming rescuing a damsel in distress. That just sounded wrong.
And Azula had agreed.
And yet…
There were those rare times when Azula extended an arm to help her stand or when they chased each other around the garden or when they reenacted Love Amongst the Dragon by themselves because Zuko did not want to play. It was easy to imagine Azula with a flowing cape and a brilliant crown, wielding a lance while mounted on a majestic mongoose dragon. It was easy to pretend she was being saved by her knight even when Azula was kind of rough in their games. It was easy to want to be kissed goodnight even as Azula grumpily bid goodbye.
It was easy to pretend even if Azula is a girl.
You are my wife.
And even though it was hard to imagine how it could have happened, it was easy to be deliriously happy at the prospect that…
What?
"I'm twenty-six."
What does being Princess Azula's wife mean?
"For the last time…" Despite her words, this woman who claims to be Azula does not sound impatient at all, as Ty Lee feared she would be. They sit in a dining room that Ty Lee has never seen before. Featureless wooden table and two crickety chairs that groaned and shrieked on their weights. They definitely are not in the Imperial Palace. From what she has seen around the place so far—the stairs, the bedroom, the bath—it does not even qualify as a villa. "… yes, you're twenty-six."
"And you are Azula?"
"Do you doubt it?" the woman counters, taking a different approach instead of the laconic affirmative. But there is no hostility stemming from exasperation from her tone. Azula just sounds tired. The normal, nonthreatening, tired.
In all appearances, it seems like Azula has grown up to be a relatively nice, albeit imposing adult.
"No." Ty Lee bows her head guiltily. Because in every passing minute that she takes in everything about the woman, it is also easy to be convinced that this stranger is in fact what Azula would look like how many?... seventeen years later.
But she does not have a crown, does not have the haggle of handmaidens following her every move, like Ty Lee imagined once Azula is of age and Ty Lee is the royal bestfriend. Despite her exceptional beauty and inherent elegance, this woman who claims to be Azula does not look like a Princess anymore.
And from what she saw in the mirror, the Ty Lee that she saw facing her—same hair, same eyes—does not look like any Princess' consort, does not look like Azula's wife. Can another woman become a princess' consort? The question reverberates around the walls that she has started erecting around her. But the way the woman looks at her, like she cares, like she… loves, makes it hard to keep them.
The aunt who lives with another woman? Yeah, that Is Ty Lee's favorite aunt. The eyes brimming with love, the quiet smile whenever she whispers into the other woman's ear.
This woman… this woman.
She really looks a lot like Princess Azula.
And Ty Lee remembers how her heart gallops, pounds, explodes in the few times that Azula made it easy for her to accept that she is having an illicit, forbidden, wrong crush on the rather irresistible, conniving, beautiful Princess.
Ty Lee recalls the hope that flared when Mai said that her aunt and that woman who young Ty Lee watched kiss were lovers. The disappointment she felt and denied when Azula flinched and gagged in repulsion.
"And I'm your wife?"
Sigh. Grown-up Azula sounds like Mai, she thinks in fascination. Headshake. "You know, I could have just kissed you to prove my point."
Why wouldn't…? But panic raced down swifter than her own infatuation to the Princess of yesterday's playdate could. The dreams of kissing her. Being her wife. The secret thoughts that make her warm all over. The pleasant fantasies she forgets whenever she is in the presence of the cruel princess she calls her friend. The thought that everything could be her reality now feels wrong. Just wrong. Ty Lee is nine years old and she does not think of these, not consciously. The thoughts of kissing terrifies her more than the bigger picture. "Er…"
"But that would be like kissing a nine year old." Azula made a face that looks eerily the same when Ty Lee told her about her aunt. And she is suddenly filled with excitement about how familiar it is, even when everything else converges into the realm of the unknown "Disgusting."
Ty Lee has no words.
….
.
.
In as few words as possible, Ty Lee learns of her unimaginable situation.
She lives. She exists. She wakes up. She sleeps. She learns. She forgets. She does not remember enough. Sometimes, she does not remember at all. The past is an unreachable trench. The present a dark void. The future seems like an insurmountable slope.
Throughout it all, Azula holds her hand.
I will always take care of you. Her promise. Their vow.
Everyday, Azula introduces herself as her wife.
Everyday, Ty Lee does not believe her.
Everyday, Ty Lee forgets what Azula told her yesterday.
And what's more? Azula is not Princess Azula anymore.
"I love you." Azula says, touching her once more. Ty Lee does not hesitate and crashes in the woman's arms. Because knowing hurts, overwhelms. As far as she knew, she was only a nine-year old girl yesterday, thoughts of matrimony a distant worry, amnesia even more alien. She does not want to think. She wills everything to be back the way she remembers, like a lucid nightmare dissolving to the comfort of wakefulness. That when she opens her eyes, she still has a playdate with Princess Azula and not trapped in the limbo of unknowing where she is twenty six and Azula's wife. "I wish you would always remember that."
But Ty Lee does not even remember whether Azula had ever said it before, whether Ty Lee has even felt it.
Whether Ty Lee believed it.
Ty Lee does not even remember what she should remember.
"Tell me about myself." She requests later as Azula seats both of them on the couch, with plates of uneaten cookies and a glass of milk to dip it into, reminiscent of their snacks back in the palace. Ty Lee does not even know Azula actually bakes. Princesses don't. Well, except Ursa but Azula has said that her mother was not always one. Unlike Azula who was born to rule or something like that. We have servants.
"Well, you joined the circus."
"Really?" This catches her attention. Because Ty Lee went there with her friends once and she liked it, even when Azula had snorted about their "firebending master" because he bent fire that does not incinerate and Mai thought it was only slightly less boring than everything in the same tone she would describe a discussion about Fire Nation history. She likes it. She begins to guess. "I was an acrobat, aren't I?"
"Acrobat, contortionist, gymnast, whatever it is. To be quite frank Ty Lee, I am not even sure."
Despite herself, Ty Lee giggles. "All of the above." She playfully suggests.
She is delighted when Azula answers with an honest-sounding chuckle.
They talk. Ty Lee asks questions. Azula answers.
Ty Lee hears what she wants to hear.
….
.
.
Azula mentions offhandedly that they are running out of supplies. Lunch is but a piece from a loaf of bread and fried meat, prepared haphazardly with nothing special in mind. Which, if Azula does this everyday, there really must be nothing. The cooking oil drizzled, the smell wafted all around their little house but it is nowhere near what Ty Lee is used to. She tries to recall what they have yester… no, the yesterday she remembers back in the palace and is surprised that she cannot. Memory works funny. The chunk of ham is bland. The bread tastes like cardboard. In between slows chews, Ty Lee tries futilely to hide her distaste so as not to offend Azula.
But it is probably written all over her face.
There is a clang of silverware as Azula puts down her fork and Ty Lee involuntarily winces. She avoids the woman's gaze, faltering at the intense stare that does not resemble the sparkling golden orbs of her Princess. Azula looks older than most of the twenty-six year olds that Ty Lee remembers meeting. To be fair, she herself does not look so hot. Ty Lee did not recognize the face that stared back from the bathroom mirror, the weathered woman looking back in utter confusion. Because even in her dreams, Ty Lee always smiles, always sees the good in everything. But in the new facial muscles that she does not remember having, it almost hurts to do so.
The smile that graced Azula's face she could tell is as fake as everything else feels.
"Would you mind if I leave you alone for a few hours in the house Ty Lee?" The dishes are done. The table cleared. Ty Lee watches Azula rub her hands deftly on a kerchief, meticulously going through the spaces between her elegant fingers. Not manicured, Ty Lee notes. The kitchen is immaculate, nowhere near the shiny brilliance of the palace dining hall and yet it captures the simplicity and comfort of everyday life. Ty Lee realizes that she does not mind this, that she could live with this.
She did apparently. For seven years.
And Azula. Princess Azula did too.
"I'll just go get some supplies." Azula explains, eyeing the incredulous look on the amnesiac's face. She rolls her eyes. "We are running out of milk."
"Can I join you?" The thread of hope dangles. Perhaps she would be able to remember something, if confronted by the sight of the future. She thinks of the trees that might be taller, the edifices built and establishments torn down. The aged shopkeeper. The advancing world. Where are they anyway? Caldera? No, that's not it. Too quiet.
She shakes her head. Azula looks apologetic. Ty Lee bows her head in disappointment. "I can't, can't i?"
"Just trust me in this, Ty Lee. It would do you no good." Azula reaches for her, raking through her unbraided hair. The touch is comforting, familiar. Ty Lee desperately leans on the sensation, on the caresses that she never knew would come from the girl who pushed her down too many times to count. "I will always take care of you."
Too soon, she lets go. And the door closes behind the departing woman. Ty Lee catches a glimpse of heavy foliage, grassy clearing and a hood being pulled up before she is alone once more.
The lock clicks.
The house is quiet.
Ty Lee decides to explore the house, the home they have shared for the longest time, for more than quarter of her lifetime.
Seven years, she thinks. Azula had said that they have been pledged together when they were nineteen. "It was not an arranged marriage, isn't it?" she had asked hopefully, remembering the horror stories she heard from every aunt stuck with a too busy husband and a whining spoiled offspring. Her sisters had agonized over the impending matchmaking ceremony to be held once they turn thirteen, where reputedly they had to be in those suffocating dresses and be in their best behavior. It sounded easy enough, two souls meeting under the obscurity of veils and paper partitions first. Except that the mystery was not worth solving when you end up marrying a nobleman twice your age.
Which is not to say that Ty Lee still could not delude herself to see the silver lining. Mai had Zuko and it did not seem so bad. Mai, who hates everything actually likes it, her aura almost flaring from her usual dingy gray. Azula had mentioned that Mai is Fire Lady now, married to Zuko and they may or may not have a daughter, Azula herself is not sure. In the past several years, a lot of things happened. Ty Lee supposedly followed Azula through thick and thin, through glory and exile and Azula have done so for her in sickness and in health.
I will always take care of you.
Till death do us part.
So maybe it is not a fairytale ending where she gets to host endless parties and reign over her courtiers with a loving, golden hand, with the nice pink dress and gleaming Fire Crown. Maybe she is not a Princess. Maybe Azula is not enjoying the life she was born to live. But Ty Lee thinks that if not for the fact that she does not remember anything that matters, it would have been good enough. Not perfect. But good enough.
She could live with that.
But the sense of foreboding does not get away. How could you successfully lead a life you don't even remember half a time?
"No. it is not an arranged marriage." Azula had sounded amused, the beginnings of laughter bubbling under the stoic surface. For some reason, this makes Ty Lee warm. "We did not have a chance for such luxury."
Seven years. Seven years of waking up forgetting yesterday. Ty Lee sits on the bed she realizes now that they shared all this time, tracing through the made covers and trying to see if the unchanged sheets would remind her of something. The musky, vaguely pleasant scent sparks a series of images. Touches. Heat. Gold eyes. Moans. Darkness. But too soon before she can make sense of it, it is gone.
Seven years and Azula has willingly answered questions when asked, singlehandedly keeping a semblance of a normal life between the two of them even when she is no longer a princess and Ty Lee is but a useless liability. But surely she would have tried to help? Surely, she would have hated the helplessness, the feeling of holding through a fistful of sand every single time. Surely, she would have seen the pain and exhaustion in Azula's face even as she tried to hide it with a smile, the phoniest that Ty Lee has ever seen from the deceptive princess.
Seven years. What she would have done in seven years?
What would she do when she wakes up forgetting everything you have done the previous day for the past seven years?
What would she do if she also knew that it happens, without fail, without the hope of a cure every single time?
And suddenly it feels so obvious, so clear to her that she momentarily chides herself for not thinking of asking Azula. Because surely Azula must have thought of it too. Azula thinks of everything. She might just have forgotten. Perhaps she will show it to her later.
"I'd write a journal." She murmurs to herself as the door to what Azula calls her office creaks open at her command. A secretaire, a table and an ornate chair. This one at least, looks like a decent facsimile of an exquisite study, like the one her father usually locks himself in. One wall is fully dominated by a towering bookshelf, littered with books of various subjects. There is a brown portfolio set atop the mess of newspaper on the bureau. A scrapbook. She leafs through the pages, inscribed with memories that confirms what Azula has already told her. Wedding picture. Circus poster. But no journal or even a letter to herself. "I'm sure I would have thought of it."
Ty Lee never forgot (well, wrong choice of words, she thinks grimly) to write on her own diary. Daily, as she religiously pored over the adventures she has had for the day and mull over how amazing life is despite or maybe because of everything. There are entries devoted mostly to her friends, family and even the dog that she feeds every day on the way to the Palace Gates. But when you live in a crowded place and share a room with six other nosy people you cannot trust, you just have to hide it.
Wait…
Maybe.
Not that she cannot trust Azula because she does. Azula is everything to her now but surely she would have left a message to herself, to remind her forgetful self the next day that whatever Azula says, if in any case she doubts it, is true.
That she is her wife.
That Ty Lee loves her.
And that Azula for some reason does too.
But who knows?
She knows, somewhere inside her that she couldn't not leave everything up to Azula.
She would have helped herself, even if it is through guiding a future self that does not even remember her.
Yesterday… or what she remembers as yesterday, she won the hide and explode game.
She is as good as hiding as she is on hiding things, isn't she?
She searches.
The bathroom is nowhere near their own bath back in her family estate but she is sure, as she is only certain of her name right now that somewhere in the toilet waits a letter she made for herself. A message. In her mind's eye, she sees herself tiptoeing to reach the highest cardboard, with a… notebook in one hand. Perhaps, she just does not want to embarrass herself to Azula that is why she hid it. Yes, that makes sense. It would not be the first time.
And Ty Lee is gripped by the excitement that perhaps it would help her remember…
…
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..
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Do not trust Azula.
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She sits on the toilet seat, holding in her trembling fingers a parchment bearing the ominous words.
Do not trust Azula.
She has found it in the same place as she hid her own journal back in her childhood home, precariously stuck inside one of the corner cupboards, barely visible unless you are specifically looking for it. Except that what she found does not meet her expectations at all. A notebook filled with an autobiography. Or even an elaborately decorated stationary perfumed and phrased to reassure her future self that everything is fine, that Azula will always take care of her.
But instead what she holds in her hands is but a brown piece of parchment no thinner than the tissue paper they use to clean themselves (because maybe it is). The ink used runs, scattered over the rough surface to convey words that are barely legible but with a squint could be read:
Do not trust Azula.
Nothing more.
Ty Lee does not even recognize the handwriting.
But seventeen years has passed, for all she knows…
"Ty Lee!" A holler. The lock lifts. Footsteps. "I'm home!"
Overcame by instinct, Ty Lee crumples the incriminating paper, flushes it down. The drainage bubbles and the cryptic message dissolves. It takes her several seconds to realize that she regrets it.
But it could not be true.
Azula is the only she can ever trust.
How much did she remember when she wrote that?
Do not trust Azula.
…
.
.
No.
No.
No.
There is no way that she could not trust Azula.
"I just came from the green grocers." She drawls as she carefully and meticulously arranged her purchases in the many cabinets that are fixed in the kitchen. An ice box with meat, bread, some vegetables. A big bottle of goat's milk. "There is a village a mile from here. One of the Fire Nation provinces. Thought they could outsmart me. Ha! They should know better."
The self-effacing gloat makes Ty Lee smile with relief, watching as the woman gingerly goes over supplies with the fluidity of someone used to it. Seven years, she thinks. She has been doing it for seven years so of course she would be used to it. Azula has been taking care of her for a long time. How could Ty Lee not trust her?
Whoever wrote that was insane.
Yes, definitely insane.
Was there a side effect to amnesia? Ty Lee does not know. Nothing really makes sense anymore.
Only Azula does.
Ty Lee thinks she saw Azula beam proudly at her. And she feels her heart pound, feels herself relish to the suddenly familiar sensation.
She must be…
She must be…
"So what have you done all afternoon?" Azula sounds curious once she is done putting away the biodegradables safely where it would not rot. (Why does that sound familiar?) She takes the seat before Ty Lee, watching her as she took small bites from an apple. She rests her chin on her palm. "How did you keep yourself busy?"
"I looked around." She replies, smiling back. "I found a scrapbook."
She trusts Azula.
She does not tell her about the tissue. She does not tell her about what is written in there.
She does not need to know.
"Oh? Right. I should have shown you that earlier."
"It's okay. It didn't really help much." She feels herself blush because as clear as the knowledge that she is already an adult, Ty Lee still remembers being a child like it is yesterday. Because it is yesterday. To her, anyway. "It just confirmed what you told me."
"Oh?" Ty Lee thinks Azula sounds disappointed. "It's really hard to stimulate you."
She says this with such resignation, with such surrender that Ty Lee shudders.
Surely, Azula has not given up on her?
But it has been seven years. Seven years.
Do not trust Azula.
"But, you know Azula I do have an idea." She perks up at Azula's startled jerk, at her surprised expression. She put that look on her face. Ty Lee put that look on Azula's face. "I can keep a journal and you can remind me to write on it everytime"
"A journal?"
"It's like a diary." She explains. She must have sounded a little too overenthusiastic but Ty Lee does not really care anymore. "I can write all about what I remember at the end of the night. And I can read it in the mornings. I think it would make everyday and everything easier. That way, you do not have to tell the story all over again and who knows, it might like you know, make it easier for me to remember…" She trails off.
Azula is silent for a full minute. Ty Lee waits with bated breath. "That's a hopeful cause." She finally says.
"Isn't it a good idea?" She is suddenly afraid that Azula will reject the whole notion. But it really is. It really is a good idea. Right?
Right?
"It is." With relief, Ty Lee finally bursts into a grin. "We can start today if you like. I can find you one of my older notebooks and I can buy you a new one once I go into town next week."
"For real? We can start today?"
"Sure." She drones, smirking. "I think it's a very good idea."
Ty Lee feels her cheeks redden. "I'll make sure to mention how wonderful you are."
Azula's triumphant smirk is what ultimately makes Ty Lee's day.
"That's an even better idea."
(TBC)
I apologize for the formatting but FFN is a bit ridiculous in their HTMLs.
How wonderful Azula is? I believe it is my cue to scoff. Though no matter how untrustworthy she is turning out to be, Ty Lee's subconscious is still head over heels in love with our Princess. Now, why is that?
Thanks for reading, the reviews from the previous chapters, the alerts/favorites and do tell me what you think of this chapter.
In other news, Smoke and Shadows is out. That one panel with Ty Lee mentioning Azula gave me hope somehow. Her noncommital "Something like that." made me expect a lot even though I should not.