Disclaimer: I don't own Avatar, don't sue me, yadda yadda yadda...

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Chapter 5: The Release

On the morning of the fourth day, Mai's fever finally broke.

And despite everything, Zuko couldn't help but wonder if this meant she'd finally return to the way she used to be. Hesitantly, gently, he touched his hand to her forehead once again, his eyes never leaving her face.

She stirred beneath his touch, whimpered and moaned softly; then, slowly, her eyes opened. The silver orbs were cloudy and dazed, appearing more dark gray than silver. She blinked a few times groggily, wincing, and as Zuko watched the cloudiness faded and awareness sharpened her gaze, and her eyes flickered up to his hand.

As he watched, barely even breathing, her eyes widened, then narrowed. Her hand shot out, her fingers closing on his wrist. Zuko winced and hissed softly in protest as her nails dug into his skin, but he didn't pull away.

Instead, he waited. Whatever happened next, it was Mai's call.

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She feels his body wince beneath her fingers, that tensing of muscle and bone and that jolt of the blood through one's veins, and an animal pleasure rises in her chest. It is a predator's pleasure, a predator born and bred of her caged existence, and it claws now for a release, for blood to be spilled, for her to make someone suffer the way she has suffered.

But…

No. Not him. Not Zuko, this man, this boy. He's been kind to her, gentle, he's stayed with her when any other sane person would abandon her to fend for herself. He's the link to her past, to the person she was, to her reason for existing, and if she will spill anyone's blood, it won't be his.

He's too important to her… too precious.

Precious. Huh.

It's been a long, long time since she's thought of anyone as precious.

Darkly amused by this realization for some strange, twisted reason that she doesn't yet want to comprehend, she lets her fingers relax and releases his wrist, letting her hand fall back and curl against her chest, so she can feel her heartbeat. He breathes out softly, a sigh, and her eyes meet his.

"Well." He laughs weakly, running a hand through his hair. "I guess you're feeling better now, huh? Your immune system must be incredible if you act like this so soon after waking."

Honestly… he thought this fever would do her in? She scowls at him a little, insulted. Her immune system has been battered and bruised by everything that thrives in the darkness and the wet, and he thinks a fever will kill her. Despite her annoyance, she also feels amused and… touched? Maybe because he was worried about her, yes, that must be it…

His eyes are really a very interesting shade of gold, she muses as she slowly sits up, shivering a bit. They follow her every move, but she doesn't feel like prey. It's kind of nice. She could get used to it.

Deep inside her, the predator grumbles but quietly bows down as the more human side of her establishes dominance, burying it once again; but it is only a matter of time, the predator knows this, sooner or later she'll snap, sooner or later the grief and the rage that she's kept inside for so long will break free, and then blood will spill.

And once blood is spilled, the predator in her will be satisfied.

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Zuko wasn't sure about traveling so soon after Mai woke—she was still pale and a little warm and shaky on her feet—but her eyes were determined and she followed him without complaint when he started walking. She kept a decent pace, still following him at a distance, but it wasn't as great as it had been previously, and a few times out of the corner of his eye he saw her occasionally creep closer before backing away again, obviously unsure of herself.

He saw, and it made his lips twitch in something of a smile, but he didn't do anything. Mai had established the boundary lines, and he would let her be the one to push them. Despite it, though, he was relieved that her slow gravitation to him during her fever hadn't halted.

As they walked through the trees, he remembered, with a jolt, the package Azula had given to him containing Mai's weapons when they had first escaped from the prison. After a moment's hesitation and a bit of fumbling, he got the package free and tossed it to Mai.

The dark-haired girl's eyes widened in surprise and she started to flinch away, but the package managed to land in her hands despite it. She fumbled and nearly dropped it, but kept her grip and looked at Zuko, confusion clearly written on her face.

"You used to like playing with knives," was all he said before he turned away and started walking again.

He'd let Mai figure it out.

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"You used to like playing with knives."

Now what the bloody heck is that supposed to mean?

She watches him walk on before lowering her eyes, gazing at the package in her hands (for a moment there, she thought he was hitting her or something); after a moment's hesitation, she quickly brushes the brown paper away and studies what she's been given.

Blades. Small, sharp little knives. They have another name, she's sure of that, but she can't quite recall it at the moment. But all she really needs to know is they're small, they're sharp, and they can cut people, make them bleed.

Using these knives, these tiny blades, she can defend herself. She hesitates, then slides the blades into her sleeves, feeling as though she's done this before.

Within her chest, the predator purrs.

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Darkness fell faster than Zuko could remember, and he felt a tingle run down his spine. He'd honestly hoped to make it to town before nightfall; he had mapped out what towns he'd passed through on his way back to retrieve Mai, and he was more than a little nervous about traveling in the night shadows. He paused for a moment, torn.

What would be best… to continue on until they reached town, or to stop once more and take shelter in a cave or something for the night? He wasn't sure.

Another tingle shot through his body, but for an entirely different reason; as his eyes adjusted to the darkness he saw Mai quietly wander to his side, seeming almost as though she was floating really, still keeping a distance from him but looking at him with calm, cool silver eyes.

She hadn't spoken a single word since escaping the prison, but in that moment, bathed in the shadows and the broken silver beams of the moonlight, she almost seemed like her old self as she looked at him. He studied her posture for a moment, trying to gauge how she was handling traveling in the dark. She was not apparently bothered by the shadows the way he was, but there was an unmistakable tension in the way she held herself; not from the darkness and the night itself, but from something that lurked there.

Another chill raced down his spine. If Mai was still capable of picking up the movements of another person (it had been a skill she'd been good at, back before Zuko had left), then her current behavior all but screamed that they were being followed.

He glanced at her again briefly, his eyes flickering over her form; her shoulders were stiff and she held her head a little higher than was probably necessary, her whole body poised as though she meant to either run and never look back or turn around and fight. Her eyes, though, were deceptively calm, seeming as though she was almost bored with the knowledge that they were being tailed.

That's the Mai I know, Zuko thought with a weak, forced chuckle. Always claimed to be bored, even when fighting for her life.

As though sensing his gaze, she looked at him.

In that moment, the pretenses dropped. The boredom and calm that floated within the silver depths of her gaze faded away as she looked at him, and a new tension seemed to enter her body. It was not the tension of a prey animal being followed but the tension of a predator setting itself up to attack.

Still, though, she looked at him. As though waiting for his approval. Zuko closed his eyes for a moment. After about five heartbeats or so of silence, he opened them again.

"Go."

Soundlessly, Mai streaked into the trees to begin her hunt.

As she disappeared from Zuko's sight, dark clouds drifted overhead, blocking out the silver light of the moon above.

With a single rumble of thunder, it began to rain.

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She feels the rain falling but pays it no mind; perhaps, if the rain had come at another time, she would have stopped to enjoy the feel of it against her body. She hasn't felt rain in so long, and was beginning to believe she'd never feel it again.

Right now, though, isn't the time. Right now she is hunting, racing through the rain with the wind at her feet as the predator within her claws at her chest, snarling, begging for some form of release.

It isn't that she's lost her sanity, but she's suffered for so long. Somehow, someway, she needs to let it all out. Once that is done, she can resume her quest to become the person she used to be.

But she knows she can never be the person she used to be if she doesn't appease the predator within her now, at this very moment, in the darkness and the rain. She slides one of the blades down to rest between her fingers, feeling a primal surge in her blood when her skin feels the sharp smoothness of the weapon.

Her eyes adjust quickly to the darkness and she blinks the water away mindlessly, pausing to get her bearings. The hunt itself, the prey she stalks, is almost laughably easy, if she was in a laughing mood. Over the patter of rain she can easily hear the uneasy breathing of her prey, the heartbeats that jump at the thought of attacking Zuko and dragging him down.

There are two of them; by the sound of them she would guess they're young men, maybe scruffy in appearance, desperate for money or probably just hunting for the thrill of killing. She creeps quietly behind a tree and peers around it with narrow eyes, easily spotting her first target crouched among the low branches of another tree.

The easy route, the route that would keep her from sustaining any injury, would be to just hurl a blade at the man; she can do it, even in the rain, and it would be quick and painless.

It's not what she wants, though. The predator in her demands blood, the thrill of the hunt. Even if she sustains her own wounds, it will be worth it in the end.

Because once she has hunted, once blood has stained her hands, the predator in her will be satisfied. The guilt, the realization of what she's done…that will come later. Right now, it doesn't matter.

The rain is a blessing now.

Her clothes are plastered to her skin, but she pays no mind to the slight discomfort; besides, it keeps her clothing from being too loose and making noise. The man is already dead in her mind, and as she begins to surge forward she already plots the death of his companion.

The pounding of the rain drowns out all sound but the sound it makes on its own, and it washes away the scent or sound that another person could detect. The whole thing on its own is so easy she might laugh about it, but it's an opportunity she can't ignore. If she doesn't do this now, she'll never recover.

The struggle is over before it can even begin; the man isn't aware of her presence in the first place, and she still possesses speed and strength beyond that of most girls her age thanks to some kind of training she took earlier in her life (though she can't exactly remember what the training was, just that it had something to do with her knives, Zuko, and the two girls… the girl wearing pink and the girl with golden eyes). The man only has time to let out a muffled cry of shock and protest as she slams against him, one arm jammed against his throat to keep him from crying out completely, lest doing so attracts his companion's attention; she doubts she can take on two men on her own, and isn't willing to test the theory.

In a flash, the blade is between her fingers and thrust forward with deadly accuracy, to the vulnerable curve of the man's throat that contains his life blood. He makes only a weak gurgling sound, and jerks against her arm, but surprise is her advantage. Blood streams from the wound, gushing over the blade and spilling onto her arms, dripping down the tree to the grass below, only to be washed away by the rain that is still steadily falling.

The blood is red, but in the darkness of the rain it looks almost black, and it feels tauntingly warm as it slips between her fingers and burns into her skin like fire. The predator within her howls with delight, clamoring for another release, for her to hunt down the second man, but for a moment she just steps back, jerking her arm away, and watches blankly as the man's lifeless body tumbles noiselessly from the tree, landing with only a dull thud in the grass below.

Blood is still dripping from her hands, but she doesn't move to flick it away. A shout from the distance makes her look away from the dead body below as the man's companion streaks across the branches, leaping toward her; obviously, he doesn't yet know that his friend is dead. He is up in the branches still, like her, and cannot see clearly because of the rain, cannot glimpse the body on the ground.

She almost laughs.

She leaps from the branch, blood still fresh on her hands and gripping the stained, dark blade between her fingers, and collides with the other man halfway in midair. The element of surprise is brief, flitting as he stiffens in shock, but he reacts quickly, grabbing her wrist and twisting it back, away from his throat so he won't die the same death his companion did.

They crash into the grass but don't break apart, because even though he is fighting back, struggling, she still has a pretty good grip on him; not that it does much, since she's lighter and far more slimmer than he is, and hand-to-hand combat could be the death of her if she stays this close to him. He has a good grip on her clothing, but she manages to slash his hand; as he howls in pain and blood spurts into the air she hurtles away, back to the trees, and hides in the shadows, prowling along the edges of the clearing like some wild, bloodthirsty beast.

He's still off-balanced by the attack, though, and not thinking clearly, and the rain is her advantage this time around; it's still falling, hard and dark and gray, cold and drowning out everything but the small world of death and blood, a world where she is completely at home, where the predator in her can finally be satisfied.

She doesn't give him time to gather his thoughts; the longer she waits, the more likely she will be killed. And she likes being alive.

She streaks back out again, her blood practically singing through her veins as the rain pounds down on her, and though she's wet and cold and completely soaked to the bone she's never felt more alive. She twirls her blade between her fingers, seeing the drops of blood that fly through the air out of the corner of her eye.

Her blade is sharp and her aim is true; she ducks to avoid his fisted hand, taking the blow across her side, and her ribs shriek in agony, but she ignores it and jabs forward with all the strength she possesses. The momentum of her attack sends him stumbling back a few steps and he weaves; his eyes widen and blood drips from the corner of his mouth as he chokes and gasps, his eyes glazing over. Once more blood is flowing, warm and red and thick along her hands, between her fingers, beneath her fingernails. She can smell it, she can feel it, she can practically taste it, and as the predator within her finally begins to quiet she feels her legs begin to tremble.

She jerks the blade from his chest and steps back as he falls into the grass face first; her trembles spread until she's shaking all over, and the weight of what she's done hits her full force without the presence of the predator.

For the first time, she is fully aware of the rain.

Numbly she turns away and stumbles back to the trees as the cold and the wet finally begins to seep through her clothes, through her skin into her bones, into her blood. She is shaking all over, shaking and she can't stop, what has she done, what has she done…

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Zuko found her without even meaning to; the rain was still falling though the clouds were beginning to disperse and the moon was beginning to shine through, a weak silver light among the shadows.

He'd stood where Mai had left him for a long, long time, completely ignoring the rain as it pounded mercilessly down on him and chilled him to the core; only when he had felt a subtle shifting in him, something quietly tugging at him, did he begin to walk.

And that was how he found her.

Mai was huddled at the base of a tree, perhaps seeking shelter from the rain, though it was a lost cause at this point; her hair and clothes were completely soaked at this point, and it would be a miracle if she didn't end up sick again. She was crunched into a tiny ball, her whole body shaking like a loose leaf in the wind, soft whimpering noises occasionally escaping her clenching teeth.

Slowly, Zuko knelt before her; only then did he see the stilettos beside her, stained red with blood, and his stomach tightened. "Mai?"

She stiffened at the sound of his voice, shuddered, but her tremors never ceased; slowly, oh so slowly, she lifted her head and looked at him. Though much of it had been washed away by the rain, Zuko could still see the traces of blood on her hands, stained on her clothing. But her eyes…

Her eyes were blank; completely, utterly empty of any emotion as she stared at him, as though she wasn't even seeing him really. Zuko swallowed. "Mai?" he repeated weakly, lifting a hand, only to drop it a moment later; in her state, he didn't know what she'd do if he touched her. "Mai?" he tried again.

She blinked several times at the sound of his voice before shaking her head and looking at him again, and slowly her eyes cleared. She stared at him for a moment as though seeing him for the first time, and a sort of wonder filled her eyes; she lifted a hand, caught up in her trance, perhaps to touch him…

And then she saw the blood.

For a moment Mai just stared at her hand, at the blood that still stubbornly stained her fingers and her skin, and her eyes went dangerously blank again, widened slightly before clearing. Slowly, trembling, she touched her hand with her other one, tracing the patterns of the blood, and a low, whimpering cry of absolute distress escaped her.

And then, as Zuko watched, her face crumbled and she began to sob, deep, wrenching sobs that shook her whole body and tore from her throat in anguished, ragged cries as the full weight of what she'd done hit her fully.

Without thinking Zuko wrapped his arms around her and she sagged into him, too weak, too broken to even resist his advances in touching her; her fingers curled into his clothing and she buried her face in his chest as she wept for the lives she had taken, as the crime she had committed finally dawned on her animal state of mind.

In the weak, shattered silver beams of moonlight, Zuko couldn't tell if the wetness on Mai's cheeks was from her tears, the rain, or a combination of both.

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AAAAGHHHH, this chapter was a bitch to work on out of all of them so far. Some days I'd just sit at my computer and stare at this fic and get absolutely no inspiration for it whatsoever, but hopefully it's worth the wait. (sweatdrops) Probably doesn't help that I'm beating back numerous Sailor Moon plotbunnies, either...

Special thanks to Jai-kun, as speaking with him over the past few days finally inspired me to get this finished. An awesome writer and an awesome friend, I highly recommend any of his fics.

Read and review, please!