Writer's Note: Takes place a while after "Oceans of Tears". I had to write this, guys. I hate unhappy and left-off endings, and for some reason I really dig this Azula I've written. That's pretty arrogant, uh...but yeah.

This will likely be my final installment that takes place this far into the future. With the new show coming out and all, I don't quite feel so comfortable writing these stories without really knowing the answers, and yet will eventually find out later (read: I hate being wrong ;.;). So, enjoy!

I had to split this into two parts - it got loooong. Damn you, brain!

Part One

"I'm coming with you, Zuzu, whether you like it or not."

The voice was loud, irritating...and yet he had expected it. In fact, come to think of it, if Azula hadn't shown up just at that moment, Zuko probably would have been disappointed somehow.

Azula's freedom was still newborn. She was still trying to remember how to interact with people again, after so long caught in the haze of her own insanity. There were moments when she broke down still, curling up on herself in the middle of the hallway or hiding in her chambers in order to avoid people, and that was something both she and her brother had come to realise would be normal from then on – Azula had experienced too much to be free of it for good.

However, her progress was going very well. Datsu said to Zuko and Mai once that the fact that Azula was out seemed to be helping her stay out – it made her work harder to stay out of the asylum, because this was something she wanted.

"Finally," Mai had said, her voice very soft and her face sad. "Azula gets what she wants for a change, instead of what others want for her."

Funny, how those words came to Zuko now, as he looked up from his place on the floor and peered at his sister's form darkening the doorway.

"Uh…" he started, looking back from his altar to Agni to Azula again. She seemed to take this as a slight, and she glared, her hands balled into fists at her sides. He recognised that from when they were kids, and prepared himself for a shout.

Which he got. "You are not going to the Spirit World without me, your sister, especially if you are going for the reason I think you are going!" Azula snapped. "Honestly, I'm surprised at you! And at Mai! Where is Mai?"

Zuko gave her a bored look, like she was a fool for even asking. "We have a daughter, you know," he said. "I didn't want to expose Kaida to this, and besides, she knows that I can handle myself. She has since we were teenagers. Mostly," he added, thinking back to the numerous times that she had saved his life without him even realising it. "Besides, Uncle taught me everything I know-,"

Azula threw out her arm dramatically, pointing at him. "And where is Uncle? Shouldn't he help you then?"

Zuko made a face. "No. I'm not bugging him for this. I know what he would say."

Azula rubbed her chin. "'Chasing the past is a mistake, Zuko,'" she said, lowering her voice and affecting an accent. "'You should leave it alone, lest you chase it into madness.'"

Zuko raised his eyebrow. "That was pretty good. Almost word-for-word."

She grinned. "I'm good at that."

"You're also good at butting into things that don't concern you."

Azula glared, the grin gone from her face. Her fingertips sparked. "Zuko, you can't do this. Don't be selfish about this. You're not the only one who has things left to say!"

Zuko winced, her words cutting deep. He sighed, trying to find another way out, to deter her from this. But he realised that there were no words there because there was nothing keeping her from going with him.

He sighed, long-suffering and overly dramatic, before slowly moving to one side and patting the floor beside him. Azula strode over with her head held high, as if he hadn't put up a fight at all, and gracefully sat down beside him, her legs crossed and her hands on her knees in no time. She gave him a snotty look, and he smirked back.

It was hard to admit, but he could look at her now without feeling that fear he once had. He could look at her and see someone he liked, not someone he feared. She had gone through a lot to get to where she was now, like he had, and she was stronger and a better person for it. But, despite that, she was still for the most part Azula – proud and cunning, selfish and wilful – and he was actually glad.

"Do you even know what to do or do I have to teach you?" Zuko said with that smirk on his face, his voice teasing. Her expression darkened, but he knew it wasn't one of her warning looks – a look that was a prelude to a fit of madness – and he chuckled. "Teaching it is, then."

It actually wasn't so bad. Azula's intelligence had always been stellar, and that hadn't changed despite her time spent in the asylum. Her eyes were clear and focused, the colour sharp, as he went through the meditation exercises and instructions that Iroh had given him, making sure not to leave anything Iroh had said. Azula didn't contradict or challenge him, nor did she try and change things around in some way. She was calm and listened to him closely.

When he finished, she nodded, her eyes now fixed on the altar to Agni. He followed her gaze, looking fondly at the altar he had reconstructed upon his ascension. It was almost identical to the one that had kept him company on the ship during his exile, and he never failed to comfort him.

Azula said, "You still pray to Agni, even after all of these years?"

Zuko shrugged. "I wouldn't say 'pray', but I do spent a lot of time meditating here. It keeps me focused, keeps my head calm."

"Agni probably isn't real, you know." It was said flatly, all emotion drained from the words.

Zuko looked at her, and saw that her face was dark, her eyes narrowed and fixed on the eyes of the statue of Agni's face. Wordlessly, he reached over and took her hand, squeezing it. She started, her fingers jerking, before they hesitantly closed around his.
"Let's see if we can find out," he replied softly.

It's like stepping into a meadow, Azula realised. One minute she was sitting beside Zuko, his hand hot and dry and holding hers. Then, quicker than a blink, she was standing, feeling nothing but a slight shift in the air around her, her hand still held in her brother's. When she opened her eyes, everything was murky and strange, like the driest autumn in the southern lands of the Fire Nation. Beneath her her feet were cloudy brown waters that were neither hot nor cold - rather, the temperature seemed to match hers exactly.

The skies were grey, and the trees were bare or full, but randomly.

The air smelled of wet, of electricity and danger. It was bleak.

Zuko exhaled sharply. She looked at him from the corner of her eye and saw the disorientation there, coupled with something like wonder - childlike and clear in his lopsided gaze. He slowly turned in a circle, unconsciously taking her with him as he did so, seeming to drink in everything as he moved.

She envied him that; that simple joy, that wonder. For some reason, the Spirit World didn't impress her too much. Her mind often provided her with scarier images.

"Oh, what is it with your family?"

Both siblings jumped, their hands breaking apart as they both turned to the source of the voice. Wearing an irritated expression was a simian-like person in orange robes. He glared at them, looking to Zuko, then to Azula, then back again, with equal distaste.
Without hesitation, Zuko leaned down and bowed. Azula had to marvel at that a little; he was, after all, the most powerful man in the Fire Nation - maybe in the world - and here he was bowing to some unknown spirit who was giving him sass. She made no move to

do the same, truly of the belief that respect is earned, not given just because.

The simian looked at Zuko with bored eyes. "Oh," he said. "Well, you seem to know what respect is." His eyes flicked to Azula, who stood rail-straight with her hands at her sides and with a look of disdain.

"Thank you," Zuko answered awkwardly, raising his head and lowering his hands. Really, she couldn't blame him - how else was one supposed to respond to that? "I was wondering-"

"Yes, people who arrive here often do," the spirit interrupted with some annoyance, his lip curled. "That is hardly news."

Azula had to struggle, to be quite honest. Nowadays it was easier to control her wayward emotions - although not as easy as it had been in her youth - but this spirit was trying her patience, and that always equalled trouble. Her eyes narrowed before she knew it, and her breath went hot within her mouth. Even as small blue flames licked her knuckles, Zuko's hand suddenly shot out and grabbed one, holding it tightly within his own, despite the fire and the pain.

It was far more effective than a slap ever could be. She took in a breath and shut her eyes, concentrating on her centre, just like she had been taught to do. When she opened her eyes again, the spirit was speaking, his eyes wide with mild concern and trepidation.
"That's never happened before," he said slowly, any trace of snobbery gone from his words.

Zuko carefully let go of her hand, his face bemused. "What hasn't?"

"Bending. It should be impossible to do here." The simian stared at Azula, the stare so direct and piercing it was like he was staring into her soul. "And yet I just saw fire from her hands."

Azula opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She didn't have an explanation for it, either. Zuko looked at her from the corner of his eye, his mouth a tight line and his expression grim. She used to be able to read him so easily, but now she realised she had lost that ability - she had no idea what he was thinking, and it scared her a little.

"But you're not here for that, are you?" the spirit continued, apparently growing bored with the fact that Azula had just broken some kind of physical law of the Spirit World. "What do you want?"

Zuko swallowed a little. "We're looking for someone. Fire Nation. Possibly someone who died within the last twenty years."

"Name?"

"Ursa." Azula looked at him when he said their mother's name; she saw years of sadness, the burden of doubt and worry weighing upon him that no amount of distraction could ever dispel. She saw a desperate yearning there in his eyes and could hear it in his voice. She realised, right then, that he hoped, deeply, that he was wrong.

The simian raised a hairy eyebrow. "You'll have to find Avatar Roku for that one," he answered. "Now go away."

Zuko opened his mouth to reply, perhaps to ask more, but Azula this time was the one to take his hand. He sighed, closed his eyes, and nodded. "Where can we find Avatar Roku?"

The spirit shrugged. "Around," was all he said. He closed his eyes and placed his hands on his knees, apparently intent on ignoring them.

The two took the subtle hint and turned to leave, stopping only when they were sure they were out of earshot. The ground beneath Azula's feet was still mushy and cold, but it was growing wetter by the second. She wondered what the point of that was. She wondered if life imitated the Spirit World rather than the other way around.

Out loud she wondered, "So, where do we find Great-Grandpa Roku?"

Zuko shrugged one shoulder, not looking at her. He already looked defeated and their journey had barely begun. Azula wasn't okay with that, wasn't okay with him just giving up so quickly after coming so far. She grabbed his arm between her own and dragged him, biting out, "Let's go then, dumb-dumb."

He stumbled after her, letting her drag him, but he didn't fight her on it. Azula dimly wondered if he had any fight left in him at all.

It was colder than he had imagined it.

Sure, Zuko had imagined a place like nothing he had ever seen or been to before. That much had been lectured into him by Iroh and Aang both.

But he never would have anticipated just how cold it was - not just in temperature, but in everything else.
Azula's hands on his arm were anything but, however. They were hot, hotter than they should have been, and her broken nails dug into his flesh with no mercy. She practically dragged him after her as she walked - no, strode - along through the shallow pools and murky waters beneath their feet, her eyes set and determined, her mouth a set line. Sometimes, without control, her lips would turn down or up, and occasionally her eyes would flash and her fingers would twitch, but she never lost control. Despite these small signs, they never graduated into anything beyond those simple tics.

Zuko couldn't help but think back to that horrible day, the day she lost it all, and be amazed by how she had managed to put it behind her.

No, he thought, watching her eyes flick around, looking for some sign of life, not put it behind her. It's like she made it a part of herself.

He smiled a little. If he looked deep enough, he could see - just a bit - a tiny shred of the carefree girl she had been once.

Suddenly, she stopped. Her eyes were fixed on something, narrowed and sharp, and Zuko blinked, then followed her gaze, momentarily confused. Several yards away was something that looked like a wavering cloud of mist, hidden in a pocket of unfortunate-coloured foliage. Zuko pulled his arm away, straightening to his full height and moving forward, entranced all of a sudden. There was something about the shimmer of the mist that enticed him, something made him want to get lost in the smoky tendrils...

"Zuko."

It was like...if he kept going, he wouldn't have to worry about anything...

"Zuko!"

Nothing could faze him if he was centred in the embrace of it...nothing...

"Zuko!"

Azula's voice was so sharp and loud that it jolted right through him, as effective as any of her lightning strikes. He blinked, then stopped. His hands were out; when had he raised them? His eyes focused before him, and saw that he was only a few feet away. "But..." he said softly, his voice sounding weird. "It's so warm..."

"Idiot," Azula's hands went to his arms and pulled them down. With a shove, she pushed him away from the cloud and got right into his face. Zuko blinked slowly...then realised what he had almost done.

"Be wary of everything that seems enticing, Nephew," Iroh had said, his eyes serious and his voice firm. "The Spirit World can offer much, but it does not always follow through."

"If I'm the sane one in this group then we are both in trouble," Azula spat, giving him another shove and rolling her eyes, walking past him and into another direction. "Come on, you idiot!"

Zuko followed, wondering distantly if she was right.

They walked in silence, both afraid to speak lest they scare a source of information away. Well, Azula was sure that that was Zuko's reason for quiet; hers was a little more suspect.

I'm afraid of what I might say...I'm afraid I might say something I'll regret...

But it had been an hour, and so far neither had seen any signs of Roku.

"Augh," Zuko grumbled suddenly, stopping in the middle of a particularly swampy-looking patch. His hands went to his hair and tugged, his eyes squeezed shut. Azula had to watch this with some amusement - his temper tantrums had stayed the same, at least. "This is impossible! Aang said it would be easy to find Avatar Roku, but it's like looking for..."

"A dragon?" Azula supplied with a smile.

Zuko scowled at her, but acceded to her point. "Yes," he admitted. "If I had known it would be this hard I would have brought him along. Apparently Roku just popped up whenever Aang was around."

Azula frowned, looking around her with her arms crossed. "You'd think that as his kin we would be welcome here."

Zuko lowered his hands from his hair, turning to her with such a pensive look that it made her look at him. "Do you think we're not?"

She blinked. "I'm not sure," she admitted. "I just...don't see any other reason why we haven't been greeted yet." Zuko's face darkened, and so she went on, feeling a bite of impatience. "Look, Zuko, it's not like Great-Granddaddy has ever been forthcoming with us before, so why should he start now? Especially when we need him. If he's anything like his descendants, then of course he won't be there when we need him..."

The words fell from her mouth unsummoned, but they got Zuko's attention. "Wait, what do you mean?" he asked, his eyes wide.

"I mean," she went on, some small part of her relishing in the fact that his bewilderment was a result of her words. "That just like Mother, Roku won't be here when we need him. He's run off, gone away, hidden himself even when things are looking good and could finally be resolved." Her voice went razor-sharp, but she didn't hear it. All she could see was her mother's back. "It's no surprise, really. It had to come from somewhere."

She shut her mouth, pressing her lips together before she could start screaming. She knew the signs, and had done it just in time - her last words had gone shrill. Still, within her breast, her anger raged, and her palms burned and itched.

Still, it hurt. She wondered if it would forever...

Zuko watched her, feeling a heavy weight in his chest. He could see that even now, even after all of this time, Azula still had trouble thinking about the past. He held out his hand. "Why don't we just...head back?" he said softly.

Azula's head jerked up, her eyes wide, her mouth pulled back into a snarl. "Why would you say that?" she demanded. "Why would you even suggest that? You know how important this is for the both of us! Don't treat me like a child, Zuko!" And she lunged forward, slapping his hand away.

The sound echoed through emptiness, and Zuko winced, rubbing his hand slowly. "Ow," he muttered needlessly. "You know, Azula, even now, you can be a real bitch."

Azula's eyes flared and went right to his, and he met them, his own eyes narrowed. He crossed his arms over his chest and just looked at her, inwardly daring her to start something - anything - that would relieve her of her stress and help her focus on their search. "You think I'm-," she spluttered out, before her words choked into laughter, loud and unrestrained. Zuko froze, unsure if the laughter was a warning or real, but he didn't have long to wait. Her laughs trailed off, and she wiped the tears from her eyes, smiling widely at him. "I am, Zuzu," she said now, her voice imperial and rich. "And don't forget it."

Zuko smiled a little, wondering if he ever could forget such a thing. "Right," he agreed slowly. "But what do we do now?"

Azula seemed to consider it, her eyes forever searching around them. "Well, I don't know about you, but I'm not done yet until I at least know for sure about Mother."

Zuko nodded slowly, unable to disagree with that. "But how?" he added, holding his hands out helplessly.

Azula smiled thinly, her eyes sparking with an old kind of passion that Zuko hadn't seen in many, many years. "We suck it up and hunt it out, Zuzu," she answered.

He opened his mouth to protest, but she turned away from him, calling out a curt, "Let's go."

He had no choice but to follow.

Azula had spoken bravely, but inside her guts were in knots. She wasn't sure what she wanted, really. She wanted to see if Ursa was dead, but she also didn't want to see. She wanted to talk to her mother if she could, but at the same time was afraid of the very idea of doing such a thing.

It was all very confusing.

"Azula?"

Zuko's bewildered voice dragged her out of her state, and she turned to him. He was standing a bit away, his eyes wide and staring ahead. e pointed outwards. "Do you see that?"

She bit back an impatient reply and turned to look, squinting through the murky light. She was about to snap that she didn't see anything when her eyes fell on some kind of shadow that was moving...and it seemed darker than the shadows surrounding it.

"Yes," she replied slowly, her nails digging into hot and itchy palms. "Shall we investigate?"

Zuko smiled. "I think we should."

Together, they walked towards the shadowy patch, careful not to lose their footing or lose sight of it. They walked in silence, both nervous and confused. Azula could taste the tension in the air, marveling at how it used to give her such excitement, only to now giver her such confusion and trepidation.

Once there, Zuko stopped. Azula stood beside him, and both peered down to look at the strange shadowy shape. It danced and flowed beneath their feet, shifting backwards if it came close to touching them. "What is it?" Zuko wondered, squatting down to take a closer look.

Azula's hand reached out and dragged him back by the phoenix tail before a black wisp touched Zuko's shoulder. She practically threw him behind her and held out her other hand, her fingers sparking blue. "Dammit, Zuko!" she snapped, unable to keep her words buried in her exasperation. "Stop causing trouble!"

Zuko scrambled to his feet, but Azula didnt move from there she stood. Mesmerised, she watched as the inky expanse before her rose up from the depths and slowly took the shape of a man.

"That's interesting," a voice said softly as the form materialised. "Bending in the Spirit World?"

Slowly, the features cleared and took form of an elderly Fire Nation man. Azula lowered her hand, unsure but guessing that this had to be Roku. Her thoughts were confirmed when Zuko bowed once more. She, however, did not.

"Avatar Roku?" she said instead, narrowing her eyes. She had been expecting someone more...formidable. Daunting. Someone teeming with power.

"Princess Azula," the spirit replied, and a twinge went through her at hearing her title after so long. She tried not to show it, but knew that it must have. His eyes moved to the side where Zuko stood, still bowed. "Firelord Zuko," he added with a small smile.

Zuko straightened up and smiled back. "Avatar Roku!" he replied, the excitement apparent in his voice, despite his age. "We've been looking everywhere for you."

Roku held up a hand. "Sometimes, spirits are not meant to be found. Other times, however, when the living show a certain...persistence..." and here he looked over at Azula with a carefully blank look. "Well, it's then that we have trouble looking away."
"If you knew we were here to see you, you should have acknowledged us from the start," Azula said sharply. "We are family, after all."

Zuko glared at her; obviously he didn't think this kind of attitude was appropriate, but she didn't care. It irritated her that Roku was just watching as she and Zuko wandered around. She didn't care; she wanted answers, and she was tired of chasing them.

Roku took it easily enough. He sighed and seemed to think about it. "Perhaps it was out of self-preservation, since it appears you're breaking all natural laws and bending here," he answered, raising a brow. Instantly, Azula's annoyance faded form that one remark; if the Avatar was willing to joke around on her behalf, then things aren't as dire as they seemed to be, right?

And that's what you're afraid of, isn't it?

She throttled that thought. It would do no good to think that way.

"Avatar Roku," Zuko broke in, taking the chance to speak before Azula could. "We're...here for more than just a visit."

"I gathered," Roku answered easily. "Two living members of the royal family very rarely come here just for fun."

"We want to know-," Azula started, but then she stopped. The words just dried up in her throat, and she nearly choked on them. I want to know what happened to Mother...don't I?

Don't I?

Zuko looked at her, looking mildly surprised by her stopping in mid-sentence. He seemed to understand - something - for he reached over and took her hand in his. Normally, she would have balked at that, slapped his hand away or snapped at him, but instead she found her hand tightening around his without much thought. His hand was warm and dry, as usual, and it comforted her.

"Our mother," Zuko said softly, now looking at Roku's slightly transparent form. "Your granddaughter. Is she...here? Or is she alive?"

There. It was out. Azula felt herself exhale slowly, as if the question was suffocating her.

Roku blinked slowly, then held out his hands, his palms open and empty. "What would you do if she was?" he said softly. "Would it make a difference?"

Zuko opened his mouth, then closed it. Azula didn't have such a problem. "Yes, it would! Of course it would!" she snapped. "If she's dead we can move on with our lives! We can stop waiting, we can stop holding our breaths and finally look beyond the memory of her back!"

Zuko stared at her, his hand still in hers. He said nothing, but she could see it in his eyes: he was ashamed, but that was how he felt, too.

Roku lowered his hands, his face carefully blank. Azula hated that about him, hated that he could keep calm and cool and not show anything, while what she felt was everything. If she could slap him, she would have, that was how angry she was.

"Well?" Azula pressed. "Is she dead?"

"Yes," Roku said softly, his facial expression carefully blank. "She died a long time ago."

Beside her, Zuko simply dropped to his knees, uttering a gasping noise and putting his hands to his face. Azula turned and stared at him, her mouth slightly open, unsure of what it was that she felt. Was it grief? Sadness? Anger? Or was it relief? Was it calm? Was it a sense of...gladness? Freedom? The idea that her mother would never have to see her this way?

For a moment, she stood there silently, listening to Zuko weep without control beside her. She felt for him, especially since he and their mother were close, but she also didn't quite understand him. He knew this was an option, she thought. So why is he taking it so hard?

"How did it happen?" she asked instead, turning her gaze to Roku. She told herself that it was to help her focus, but inwardly she knew it was so that she didn't have to watch her brother cry.

Roku gazed at her, looking at her with...was that pity? "I'm not quite sure," he admitted. "Even a spirit as old as I has trouble keeping track of friends and family. She passed through here so quickly, without lingering, and I have no idea where she went - if she went at all. If she is here, she evades me."

Zuko lowered himself further into the ground, getting dirty with sticky mud. Azula marveled at that - how can anyone get dirty here, in a place that doesn't obey normal laws? But she said nothing out loud. Instead, she leaned over and placed her hand on Zuko's shoulder lightly. I really should be feeling something, she realised, her eyes once again on her brother. I know I should be feeling something...but I feel nothing...

Roku looked at Zuko closely. "Firelord Zuko, why are you saddened by this?"

The man in question looked up, his face streaked with tears, his face a mask of anguish. He looked as if he wondered how Roku could ask such a thing. "I never even got to say goodbye," he choked out. "I never got to thank her, I never got to prove to her that I could grow up and be something..."

"Dumb-dumb," Azula suddenly broke in softly. "She knew that when you were small. Why else would she have done all of that for you?" She felt a mix of annoyance and envy towards him - he got to grieve for their mother, and she? She got to feel nothing.

Except...maybe I'm jealous. Maybe I'm jealous of the fact that Zuko gets a precious memory of her, and all I get is the memory that broke me. He has less to regret, because even though we proved her right, I proved her right in the wrong ways...

Zuko, however, reached up and grabbed onto her hand, his grip tight and cold. He kept silent, coughing a little on his tears.

She found that she envied that, too.

After Roku's grim admission, there was little reason to stay. Zuko believed the Avatar, that Ursa was no longer in the Spirit World - or that if she was, they would never find her. Zuko and Azula walked back together, led by one of Aang's spirit friends - Hei Bai or some such. Zuko wasn't quite all there, really. He was a million miles away, and yet he was also inches too close. He felt raw and frustrated and helpless.

Azula's hand was cold in his. That was strange all in itself. For as long as they had been brother and sister, her hands had always been hot, almost too hot, to the touch. But now, they were cold. When he looked at her from the corner of his eye, she looked normal...all but for a tightness around her eyes. That was also strange.

But none of it mattered, because his mother was dead.

He knew he had come here to learn the truth. He knew that he needed that closure, that it would always haunt him into his late years if he never got it. But he had always thought that - somehow - his mother would find a way back to him. Somehow, he didn't care how. He had just always thought that she would, when she was ready to, come back.

But she wasn't coming back.

Zuko followed the giant black and white spirit numbly, his grasp on Azula's hand limp. He felt a staggering and painless apathy threaten him, one that chilled him deep in his bones but couldn't shake. He hoped it was temporary. He hoped it would go away.

He needed it to go away...

Azula felt the transition this time. It was messier, harder to ease through. She didn't mind - the degree of discomfort rooted her to reality, which was something she needed. She already felt some of her control slipping; it happened sometimes, when she hadn't had enough time to rest, and she had way too much time to think. The quiet serenity of Zuko's altar didn't help matters, either. If anything, she just wanted to break it.

Zuko sat before it, hunched over, his hand still holding hers limply, his eyes closed and his face drawn.

"Zuzu," she said pressingly, feeling helpless and annoyed by his look of depression. She wanted to get a rise out of him. She wanted him to look up and stop being sad. She wanted him to look ahead, like she was, instead of looking back. "Zuzu," she said again, harder. She clutched at his hand harder. "Hey, Dumb-dumb, I'm talking to you!"

He didn't answer or move. He just sat there.

"Zuko!"

Her voice lashed out like the harshest whip, hurting even her own ears. Zuko winced, his face crumpling and his body shifting away from her, like she was too hot to be near. She felt her palms itch, her stomach roil with heat, and she wondered distantly if it were true. "What!" he snarled back, turning to her, his eyes blazing bright yellow. "Can't you give me just a moment?"

"No," she snapped. "Because if I do, you won't come back."

He blinked, shock replacing the fury on his face so fast that she had to marvel at that. How wonderful it must be to allow emotions to run their course... "Won't come back?" he echoed.

"Right," she answered, pushing herself to her feet and stretching out slowly, feeling her limbs tingle as the blood returned. She didn't look at him; instead, her eyes fell on the effigy of Agni. "Like Uncle, when Lu Ten died. It can't be you, too."

She felt his gaze on her, knowing that he was remembering that long spell of time that Iroh just...shut down following the deaths of Lu Ten and Azulon. "That's not what I'm doing," he protested, though he sounded...unsure.

"Mother is dead, probably," Azula answered back, keeping her voice soft and empty. "But you and I are still alive. Isn't that what she wanted in the first place, Zuko?"

From the corner of her eye, she saw him lower his head, his face crumpled again and his teeth clenched. He said nothing, but she knew she was right, and knew that he knew it, too. "We needed closure, both of us. Now we have it. It's painful closure, but it's still the kind we needed."

She looked back to Agni, her eyes trailing over the details of the carved and painted face. She started when Zuko got to his feet and stood closer to her, and when she looked up, his face was still drawn.

"Azula," he said softly. "You're crying."

She blinked, shocked. With a shaking hand, she touched her cheek, her fingertips coming back wet. She swallowed, the sound coupled with a faint whimper, and she clamped her teeth together, struggling to strangle it. I felt nothing before...why do I feel everything now?

When Zuko's arms went around her, she practically leapt into them. When he hugged her close, the tears ran free.