Title: Sunlight
Summary: Quite a few people covered Boiling Rock, so I figured why not do so without the double betrayal ending.
Warnings: Character death
Word Count: 672
"You're an idiot, you're a damn idiot." Mai mutters, shoving past the guard who finally let her out of the cell. Her eyes are heavy with tears but she still refuses to let them fall.
I don't need any protection.
Trust me, she doesn't.
"I don't but you do." The conversation is carried out amongst herself, drowning out the nerves that have ignited in her limbs. She knows what she's doing, and once she's finished, she knows how it will end.
So that's what sunlight feels like. Of course she's sat in it before, but such a conviction as the one she's going to face, she lets the ray hit, and she takes them in. Metal has shot between her fingers, and she has the blade ready to be thrown. In contrast to the sunlight, they're much more chilling than she remembers.
The rioters pay no notice, and she slips by, straight through, the fire narrowly missing her as she walks swiftly up the steps. Maybe she's stalling she isn't sure, hoping the idiot can figure it out, that he's making a mistake, that there's a potential he can lose.
Or maybe, it was that he was leaving her again, and that last look wasn't enough. Even if it said he was doing this in part for her, it wasn't enough. She hears the words of cutting lines and her feet carry her in a sprint. The knife flies form her fingers, and her eyes watch it's tip, watching the fabric of their uniforms wherever they hit.
Saving the Jerk who dumped me.
There's no emotion behind it, it's all hidden in the tears, the ones she blinked back and saved for well after she was dead. She supposed that moment would come soon. The gondola was back in motion, and she turned, tiny specs of gold. Of course they weren't easy enough to be seen, but it was enough for her to be sure.
She backs down after that, having pinned the majority, her arms held behind her and she keeps as stoic as ever. Inwardly, the conversation progresses, but she doesn't doubt herself a bit.
You're going to die here, Mai.
I don't care.
You don't believe that do you?
I believe in him, if he's dead, there won't be anything left to believe in.
So you're giving up your life for a boy?
Seems that way.
He left you.
This time I let him.
She can't hear most of what happens next, the small moments, kisses shared, and little hugs, maybe a brush of his fingers. She tries to remember their feeling, in case when she's gone, she forgets. That was it, that's why she did it, that pile of emotions she had spent years trying to tuck away, in order to please them, people who wanted her to be quiet—collected, and detached, and she believed them, nothing was holding her here. Now, she realized it was him.
Her brows furrowed, hearing Azula talking about fear, the feeling has left her, buried in the memories she now plans to take to her grave.
Love. She's said it, the word she never thought would cross her lips, but it's there, and it fell off her tongue seamlessly, she's proud now, maybe determined, and her knife is now unconsciously poised in her hand. Azula's fingers move, and she watches, ready to throw as soon as she shoots.
It's a flash and a thud, and they both fall. Azula in the chest, and Mai too. She's cringing, she can feel it, but it passes in waves, it numbs her nerves, and she tries to think of the memories, small moments, kisses shared, and little hugs, maybe a brush of his fingers. Before her eyes close, and the darkness pools.
You're scared?
Should I be?
You're dying here, Mai. For him.
Then i'm not.
—and why's that?
She ignores it, drinking in the warmth, remembering his arms around her own trying to keep her warm when she said she was cold.
Because that's what sunlight feels like.
