Regrets. People have a lot of them. But Azula most of all. As Iroh is cleaning out her room, he finds out little pieces of papers mismatched on her desk. There are black ink etched into each parchment. He doesn't want to read it, but his eyes can't help catch the opening words.
In precisely written calligraphy, and even spaces, are the words: 'To Mai,' and 'To Ty Lee.'
Iroh looks no further.
The next day, as he's preparing for the shop to open, Azula comes behind him.
She holds two wrapped letters, and silently hands it to him. He looks, rubs his beard, then nods.
He puts it in the mailbox.
The flea market opens at the end of the month. Iroh goes there, expecting to the find the usual. Discounted clothes, pickled cabbages. Maybe even rare pai sho collectibles.
What he doesn't expect is a book. A vendor is selling one. It's thick, blue and red. He looks at it, a glint in his eyes. It's title, in heavy curled caligraphy, reads Love Amongst The Dragons: Novel Edition.
"How much is this, good sir?" Iroh says to the merchant.
The man behind the counter rubs his chin, then runs his hand through the book's cover. "Ten coins, give or take."
Iroh smiles cheerily. "Eight coins, good sir."
"Nine."
"Seven."
"That's --" The man sighs. "No one's buying this anyway, you have a deal."
He gives him the book. It's hard and stable, but there are scratches on the cover. It will do.
"By the way, who are you buying this for?" The man says.
"Who? Who else but my daughter," Iroh says.
He finds Azula under the cherry tree again. The wind streams her long hair behind her. She's sitting, arms hugging her knees. She is focused on the horizon.
"Azula," Iroh says.
Her eyes shift. She turns back slowly.
"You won't believe what I found," he pauses for effect, "A Love Amongst The Dragon limited edition novel!"
Silence. She stares at him.
"I'll leave it in your room under your cabinet. Read it, my niece. The story is riveting, and the characters are deep! Especially when the dragon--"
That was a spoiler. He stops. Instead, he gives a thumbs up, before walking back to the teahouse.
The grass rustles between them.
"Your tea is getting better," Iroh says, holding the cup in his hand.
Azula sits in front of him, teapot in hand.
"But still it feels amateur," he says. "You've let the leaves steep too long. Don't do that. The leaves are strong enough. It creates a bitter aftertaste, don't you think, my niece?"
She gives one more glance at the cup, then grabs it quickly. With the teapot, she walks to the kitchen.
A few minutes passes, and Azula comes back, holding a new steaming cup. She's remade the tea.
Iroh realizes this with a half-hidden grunt. Despite his love for the drink, this was her eighth attempt today. He fears he can't take much more.
With an uneasy smile, he drinks her newly made liquid.
He recoils. Then spits it out.
That day, Azula makes her first expression since the day she'd arrived. A glare.
It wasn't very long ago that Iroh remembers a little girl and boy going with their mother to watch the Love Amongst the Dragon play. Back then, they were a family in one. Tightly knit, and happy.
When Ursa had disappeared, he remembers Zuko asking him to bring him to watch the play again. And so they did. A uncle and his nephew. He didn't bringing Azula. Perhaps it was her attitude at the time, or perhaps it was something that Zuko reminded him of. If he had brought her...
Regrets. Iroh has many of them. But as he looks at his niece reading the blue book intently, he realizes.
Some regrets are amendable.
Days go by, and the mailbox remains empty. No letter ever returns. Azula makes sure of that. She checks every morning, going outside after breakfast, and even noon. There is nothing, no letter sent to her.
"Patience, princess," Iroh says one time. "Perhaps they will come tomorrow, or next week. Just wait for time to tell you."
One night, as he tries to sleep, he hears something.
Soft cries ring down the hallway.
There is a still morning after. Iroh doesn't say anything about the sounds last night. Instead, he prepares a fine meal. Broken rice with fresh beef, poured with a delicious sauce.
Once Azula gets her first glance at it, she eats it down as fast as a properly etiquetted princess can.
His eyes glint as he watches. He turns to leave. But just he is about to, a voice comes from behind. It's hollow and light. Raspy and tired.
"Thank you, Uncle," Azula says quietly.