A few nights after Zuko's visit, Aang woke to the sound of screaming. It started low, a muffled cry that could have been the wind, but soon it rose into a piercing wail that sent him rushing to his door.
He followed the sound to Azula's room, where the screams had dissolved into frantic, broken cries. Aang hovered outside, his hand inches from the door. He wanted to help, but the raw anguish in her voice stopped him cold.
"Azula?" he called softly.
The noises ceased for a moment, replaced by shallow, shuddering breaths. Then her voice came through the door, sharp and hoarse. "Go away, Aang."
He hesitated, then stepped back. Whatever was tormenting her wasn't something he could fix by barging in.
The next night, it happened again. This time, she cried out words that sent a chill down his spine: "No! Don't touch me! I'll do what you want—just don't hurt me!"
The screams kept coming, each one like a dagger to his chest. Aang sat outside her door until they finally subsided, but when he asked if she needed anything, the answer was the same: "Go away."
The pattern continued over the next few days. Aang began to suspect the cause. With most of the work around the island complete, Azula no longer ended her days utterly exhausted. The quiet evenings left her with nothing but her thoughts—and her thoughts, it seemed, were dangerous company.
On his next supply run to town, Aang made an impulsive detour to the market, hoping to clear his head. He was picking out some herbs when a familiar voice cut through the noise.
"Twinkletoes? What's got you slumming it in the market district?"
Aang turned to see Toph leaning casually against a fruit stand, her arms crossed and her sightless eyes directed toward him. Relief flooded him. If anyone could help him make sense of the situation, it was Toph.
He quickly explained Azula's night terrors and his growing concern. Toph listened quietly, her expression unreadable until he finished.
"She's finally getting hit with all the crap she's been running from," Toph said. "No surprise there. You don't just brush off stuff like that, no matter how tough you think you are."
"I just don't know what to do," Aang admitted.
Toph grinned, a glint of mischief in her sightless gaze. "Good thing you've got me. I know someone who can help."
"Who?"
She waved a hand dismissively. "You'll see. Trust me, Twinkletoes."
Though her tone was light, Aang couldn't shake a sense of unease. Toph had a habit of surprising him, and he wasn't sure if this surprise would be a welcome one.
A few days later, Aang was tending the garden when he heard the low hum of a water taxi approaching the dock. Wiping his hands on his tunic, he walked down to meet it, curiosity tugging at his mind.
As the boat came into view, Aang froze. Stepping off the vessel were Toph—and Iroh.
Aang felt an odd mix of relief and apprehension. If anyone could offer wisdom and support, it was Iroh. But as the older man stepped onto the dock, his warm smile faltered when he took in the surroundings.
"Aang, my boy," Iroh said, his voice as genial as ever. "Toph was rather... cryptic about why I'm here. May I ask what this is all about?"
Before Aang could answer, Toph hopped off the boat and smirked. "You'll figure it out soon enough."
Aang barely had time to brace himself before Azula appeared, drawn by the commotion. The moment she saw Iroh, her expression darkened.
"What is he doing here?" she demanded, her voice cold and sharp.
Iroh's warm demeanor didn't waver. "Azula. It has been... quite some time."
Her eyes narrowed, and her lips curled into a sneer. "And not long enough." She turned on her heel and stalked back toward the temple without another word.
Toph shrugged. "Well, that went about as well as I expected."
Iroh sighed. "I suspect this will not be an easy reunion."
Later that evening, Azula found herself wandering the edges of the island. The nightmares had left her restless, and the presence of her uncle only added to the storm of emotions swirling in her chest.
As she rounded a corner, she spotted Iroh sitting alone on a bench, gazing out at the water. She froze, debating whether to turn back, but something kept her rooted in place. Finally, with a deep breath, she approached and sat down at the far end of the bench, leaving a wide gap between them.
For a long time, neither of them spoke. The waves lapped gently against the shore, filling the silence.
"You're wasting your time," Azula said eventually, her tone laced with bitterness.
"I disagree," Iroh replied calmly.
Her hands clenched into fists. "You think you can just waltz in here and fix me? Like I'm one of your tea shops?"
"I do not think you need fixing," Iroh said, turning to look at her. "I think you need understanding."
His words caught her off guard, and she looked away, her expression hardening. Slowly, the tension between them began to ease, and the conversation shifted. They spoke of the past—not as enemies, but as two people bound by the same broken family. Iroh shared memories of her as a child, moments she had long forgotten, and she found herself opening up in ways she hadn't expected.
By the time they returned to the temple, the air between them felt lighter, though the weight of their history was far from gone.
Meanwhile, Aang and Toph were cleaning up after dinner. They worked in easy silence until Toph, reaching for a high shelf, suddenly tipped backward.
Aang caught her instinctively, his hands steadying her as she clutched his arms.
"Well, well," Toph said with a smirk, tilting her head up toward him. "My hero."
Before Aang could respond, she leaned up and planted a quick, teasing kiss on his lips.
He froze, his cheeks flushing as Toph pulled back, her own face tinged pink.
The sound of footsteps at the doorway broke the moment. Both of them turned toward the noise, but whoever had been there was already gone.
Aang stood motionless, his thoughts a chaotic swirl of confusion and embarrassment. Toph, for once, seemed equally flustered.
Neither of them said a word as they finished tidying up, but the tension between them lingered, unspoken and undeniable.