*-You guys! it's been forever since I've written some fanfiction! And I'm sorry I don't upload as much as I used to! But I will finish this story and my others so don't you worry! Haha, okay, so the quote is from the song "Knife Called Lust" in case any of you were wondering. I don't A:TLA, obviously, or I wouldn't be writing fanfiction for it! Haha, and by the way this chapter is from Zuko's POV. Now, with nothing else more to say, go on and read it! =D

Chapter Four: From His Eyes

"You keep the truth inside & it stays unknown."

-Hollywood Undead

"Ignorant boy."

Stupid father. Those were the last words I heard before I passed out when I took the bullet for Katara. Weeks ago when the incident happened. But those two damn stupid words he uttered before I hit the ground are still stuck in my head.

I slammed my fists into the wall. Where the hell is he? I know for a fact he didn't wait 'till the paramedics arrived to see if I was okay. He doesn't give a shit about me. Don't care if I live or die. If it was up to him, I would've died right on that cold, concrete ground. He would have killed me himself. That's what he wanted in the first place. What would have happened if Katara didn't jump in.

But I don't give a shit about that. Where the hell his concerns me now. The police didn't catch him. He would have been posted on every news station if they had. They never will - because they're too stupid and dumb. He's escaped the cuffs more times than I can count. The closest they've come to catching and all his other partners and druggies was when I tipped them off. And I almost got killed for it.

Why am I thinking of all of that crap now? It's behind me - I've quit all the drugs, and my father hates me more every second. I don't have any ties to that world anymore.

I'm lying. I'll always be tied to this world. That bastard of a father won't stop 'till I'm six feet under. Cold. Pale. Dead.

My knuckles are throbbing. I don't care. Done it so much, it doesn't faze me anymore. Though I'm used to it, I'm surprised Uncle hasn't -

"Nephew, you should really learn a new way to release your anger. A way that's maybe more -peaceful?" he says, with his back pressed against the door to keep it from closing.

"If it's peaceful, it's not anger," I huffed, removing my fists from the wall. What's up with all his Zen crap? Must come with old age, I guess. Uncle smiled at me.

"Nothing in this world is meant what it appears to be, Nephew," he enlightened, leaving the doorway to take his boiling water off the stove. I never understood his stupid sayings. They never seem to make sense out of Uncle's head.

I looked up at the ceiling and breathed. Before my father's two words started haunting my mind, I was throwing on clothes for that damned prison in disguise. Getting dressed is not as painful as it used to be. Guess that's a good thing. I still have to wear the bandages around my stomach, 'cause the wound hasn't closed itself up yet. I hate those things. Makes me feel like I'm wearing a girdle, man.

I snatched my jacket off the bed and pulled my arms through the sleeves to cover my black undershirt. It's not cold out; I'm not going to be in dire need of wearing two shirts. I stick to regular black jeans - without all the chains dangling from the sides. Not sure I'm up to wearing those things just yet.

I grabbed my book bag and keys from the corner, heading towards the front door. Uncle sat in the living room drinking his tea as he looked out the window.

"I see you're losing the limp. You might be improving a little faster than the doctor expected," Uncle said, glancing towards me as he sipped from the mug he bought from Ba Sing Sei.

"Yeah," I mumbled as a quick reply.

"Take it easy, still. You can never be too careful." He took another sip of his tea. "Have a nice day."

I sighed, "Bye, Uncle."

When I stepped foot into the hall, her face was the first one I recognized in the crowd. She was standing right in front of me. Stone-cold expression etched across her face. Eyes boring holes into mine. No smile, but a thin line formed on her lips. I didn't want to see her then. What the hell makes her thinks I want to see her now? Nothing has changed.

"What?" I spoke, keeping my face neutral. It's taking everything in me not to lose my temper with her just standing in front of me. Seeing her instantly pisses me off.

"Zuko, I...I just wanted to see if you were okay," she spoke in that same, familiar monotone voice.

"When did you start to care?" I spat. How long ago was it when I got shot? And now she decides to see if I'm okay? She didn't give a shit when we were dating. Why is she coming to me now acting like she cares? I'm not buying it.

Not this time.

"You're still hung up on what happened, aren't you? I told you it was a mistake," she shot back, folding her arms.

"I told you I didn't care," I scowled, my temper flaring in the pit of my stomach.

"You're lying, Zuko. It was months ago. Get over it."

"Shup up, Mai. Just shut the hell up."

My hands were balling into fists at my sides. Everything spiraling in my head would send me to jail if I actually acted. Damn it.

"We decided not to speak anymore. So don't try again," I said before I left her to stand in the hallway. Alone.

Damn her. Who the hell does she think she is? Coming up to me like all the shit she put me through magically went away. Like we were anything close to being on speaking terms after all of it. I'm not stupid.

I walked down to my locker, jamming my textbook and gym clothes into the compact space. Slamming the crap shut when I finished. Not like I'll be dressing out anytime soon.

I should calm down - can't go to first period too pissed or they'll suspect something. I don't need any of these teachers riding my back, pressing me about my home life. Especially not a trip to the counselor's - I hate that lady.

I sliced through the crowd, pushing people out of the way so I could make my way towards the bathroom. Or any place not crowded with people. A brown-haired boy had the guts to look back at me when I shoved him. Even with this slight limp, I'm still capable of beating him to a pulp. I have no doubts about it. I gave him the "death glare" and kept moving. A couple of steps more and I'll be there.

I walk through the doorway and check for an empty stall. There's three. I head into the stall in the far corner, slam the door closed, and drop my book bag to the floor. Dig into my pocket and pull it out. Roll up my sleeve, and presse the razor blade to my wrist. Cut one good time and pull back. The metal was cold against my skin, but the air gracing the blood pulsing out is colder. It stings, but there's no pain. The burning clouds my mind, vanquishes the incident with Mai - relieves me of all the nightmares fogging my head. Just like I wanted.

I hang out in the stall a little longer until the cut is dry and I'm positive everyone is gone. I wipe the blade clear of blood; wash my hands clear of evidence; pull down my sleeve.

I check my watch as I leave the restroom - there's still ten minutes before the bell rings. Must've gotten to school too early. Damn it. I leaned on the end of the lockers on an empty hall. My hands stuffed into my pockets. Music blaring in my ears.

I'm used to people gawking at me - so when people stare at me because I'm having my own freaking concert in a corner, I'm not surprised. Pissed off, but not surprised.

It's when I blink and I see two big blue eyes staring at me that I'm kind of freaked out. Katara. She's smiling, and her lips are moving I don't hear what she says.

I yank the earphones from my ears and throw it into my book bag.

"Hey," she says.

"Hey," I repeat to her.

I look everywhere but straight into her eyes when an awkward silence in the conversation approaches. I'm still amazed that she's talking to me.

"You're...losing the limp," she says to break the silence. I quirk an eyebrow, leaning off the lockers as I thought, Obviously.

I stare down at her as we start walking down the hall, showing no emotion on my face. "You can avoid this, you know."

She adjusts her pace to meet mine, then meets my eyes with hers. "Avoid what?"

"These awkward conversations. I told you, we don't have to talk."

Katara laughs, redirecting her gaze to the constant swirl of people moving around in the hallway. "If you talked more, they wouldn't be so awkward. And, I told you thatI'm not talking to you just because of the incident."

Katara confuses me. Why can't she ignore me and gape at my scar like everyone else? No matter how hard it is to have a conversation with me, she still tries. And in math, Katara pairs with me even though she could partner up with anyone in the class. I don't get it.

A girl with shockingly, long white hair pushed through the crowd of people and ran straight to Katara, shaking at her shoulders. "Katara!"

Katara scrunched her eyebrows as she looked at the girl with an expression of panic on her face. "What's wrong, Yue?"

"Sokka and some other junior are about to fight in the parking lot!" the Yue girl almost shrieks. Katara gasps, Yue pulling her arm down the hall as she adds, "You have to help me stop them!"

Katara looks back at me while she runs behind her friend, "See you later!" And then she disappears into the throng, leaving me to enjoy the familiar-ness of my anti-social solitude.

I check my watch again, about three minutes 'till class starts. I head to the gym, not rushing, even though I know from where I am now, it'll take a while for me to reach it. But I don't care. It's not like I can dress out, anyway.

I block out the conversations and sounds from other people occupying the hall with my earphones, staring straight ahead and not granting them any attention. When the halls begin to clear out, I realize the bell must've rung. Whatever. I have an excuse when I get to class.

Coach Jeon is ordering people to do laps around the gym when I finally enter. He takes one look at me limping towards the bleachers and I don't even have to explain my tardiness. I lean my back on the next level of bleachers and watch my class jog around. Coach Bumi's class is sitting on the other side of the bleachers waiting for their turn to run.

I grab my iPod from my pocket and plug in my earphones, once again drowning the world out with blaring guitar solos and screaming vocals. My eyes are half-closed when I notice someone's walked over to sit behind me. I open my eyes, pause my music, only to see my sister smirking over my head. I raise up, growling, "What, Azula?"

"Now, ZuZu, is that anyway to greet your little sister?" she asks, drawling out ZuZu in that sick, venomous way that she speaks. I don't make an attempt to reply.

She just huffs, and though I'm not looking at her, I know she's rolling her eyes.

"So you finally got a friend, huh, brother?"

I still don't turn around.

"Though I'm surprised that blue-eyed nerd had the guts to almost risk being shot to death to protect you, of all people."

He told her. Just what I need, an annoying, unwanted sister watching my every move so she can report it back to him.

"Is there any reason why you're still over here?" I scowl.

But she just laughs it off, ignoring the question as she says, "Strike two, ZuZu. You know, if you keep putting Dad at risks with the cops, you're just going to end up digging your own grave. And you might drag your new friend down with you."

Azula gets up from the bleacher, smiling wickedly when she adds, "Just a few words of wisdom."

Then she's walking back to her class before I can say anything.

*-Okay! So whadaya think? Review so I can know people are still reading this! =D

I'm working on the next chapter as we speak! =D Never fear! haha, i am going nuts. Summer has done this to me. =D