#commentary this deserves. I am thrilled by this. He's put words to so many observations and feelings I've had about her.

[winter-tospring]

Give him every award

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Wan High Weeping (Part 32)

Her father always knew just when to strike. Azula was almost certain that he had go through various social media pages and came upon one of many pictures.  It had only been a day and both Usha and Kori’s accounts were flooded with images of her eating what was probably half of the concessions. Chan and Chu-Leng posted their own share of them. She didn’t know why she had looked, she knew what she would find. She knew that seeing herself like that would bring color to her cheeks all over again. She knew that reading the comments would be the death of what was left her self-esteem but she was so morbidly curious. Or perhaps, maybe she read them with the hopes that someone would say something in her defense.

She should have known better.

No one ever came to Katara’s defense when she had posted things like this about her.

 Her eyes burned with tears that she was fighting to hold back. Yes, Ozai had definitely seen the images or at least a few of them. Frankly, even one was enough to send him into a rage. He had seen them alright, and for it he was shaming her with more rancor than ever.

 Azula was in the middle of getting dressed, she only had a chance to pull on a pair of pants, when he threw the door open. She hadn’t even gotten to button them, not that she thought doing so would have been easy anyhow. He grabbed her at the bend of her arm and practically dragged her to the bathroom. He did it with a surprising speed that had her tripping over her own feet as her tired mind struggled to keep pace.

He threw her into the bathroom and pointed at the scale.

 Quietly, she shook her head. That was the last thing she wanted to do. She had done herself so much damage. In a fit, she ignored the alarm bells screaming at her to throw up her last meal. She had made a spectacle of herself at the party and she was going to punish herself for it. She had seen no better way to do so than letting the food settle for a change.  

It was a decision she already regretted without having her father demanding her to step on the scale.

 He shoved her closer and she shook her head again. She really, truly didn’t want to know this time. She looked at him with a pleading so uncharacteristically tearful that even he hesitated for a moment. But in a flicker, he regained his angry demeanor. He pointed to the scale again, “Now, Azula.”

 Again, she shook her head.

 He drew in a sharp breath and she knew that she had tested him.

 His hand found her cheek and left a stinging. “Don’t make me ask again.”

 Shaking and with tears falling freely down her cheeks, she stepped on the scale. She died her best to look everywhere but down. Agonizing seconds came and went.

 “Read the number to me.” Her father commanded, his voice slick and dangerous. Azula almost wanted to chance another slap. Reading that number would certainly have the power of one. “Read. It.”

 He was losing patience. So, with another muffled cry, she looked down and quietly relayed the number to him.

 “What was that?”

 “O-one hundred and…” She trialed off. “And thirty-eight.” That put her up a good three pounds. She whispered an apology. Whether it was to herself or to him, she wasn’t sure.

 “One hundred and thirty-eight.” He repeated. “Have you been trying at all?”

 She stepped away from the scale and leaned against the wall, it was all she could do to keep herself upright. “Yes.” She replied softly.

 “Have you really?”

 “Yes.” Azula repeated.

 “Then why is it that you weigh more than before.”

 She swallowed. “I don’t know…I.”

 He slapped her again and pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is embarrassing. Do you know what it looks like for my company to have pictures, like this, of my daughter plastered all over the internet?” He held out his phone.

 “I’m sorry.”

 “You should be. This is disgusting. Disgraceful. I don’t even want to look at you.”

Neither did she.  

 Azula expected him to throw the phone down on her. Instead he tossed her a shirt and grumbled, “put it on and figure out how you’re going to fix this.” Without another word nor glance in her direction, he walked out of the bathroom.

 She let herself sink to the floor and wrapped her arms around her middle. It felt much too soft. It looked equally so and she didn’t know how to fix it. Why couldn’t she fix it? She buried her face in her hands, maybe she should just get it over with and go under the knife after all.

 .oOo.

 Azula had never dreaded returning to school so terribly. She hadn’t even feared her first day this much. She stared dully at her keys, watching them sway from one side to the next. She set them down and rested her head on the dining room table. Ozai was already unbelievably pissed. She was already an embarrassment. Her grades were already taking a dive. She might as well just stay home. Her belly was as empty that morning as it had been full on the night of Chan’s party. Her father had put locks on the pantry door and on the fridge.

She would only be getting food when he gave it to her and maybe that was a good thing. If she couldn’t control herself, she’d let him do it for her.

 She found herself crying softly again. She had done a lot of awful things, said a lot of awful things. But she didn’t think that she deserved this. Or maybe she did; maybe this was the world’s way of showing her exactly the kind of position she had put others in. And she decided that, yes, she did deserve this.

                      “Am I going to have to drive you to school?” Ozai asked. “Or do you think you can handle that on your own?”

 She flinched. She stood up rubbing the tears out of her eyes. She hoped that she could get a handle on her emotions before she reached Wan High’s doors.

 Azula picked herself up and made her way to the door, it was bitingly cold for the first of second of November, but she didn’t have the will to go back in and fetch her coat. She didn’t want to risk ruining her father’s morning coffee.

 She was still feeling terribly faint. The drive to Wan High was hazy, in a sense it felt as though she hadn’t driven at all. One minute she was in her driveway and the next she was in her parking space simply sitting and staring. Sitting and staring until the bell rang and she knew she was late. Still she sat and stared as the grey of late autumn settled over the sky. She wasn’t sure how long she had sat there but she finally pulled herself out of the car and into the building. Whatever lecture principal Roku was giving her about the importance of being on time was going in through one ear and out the other.

Because she knew that she would repeat herself the next day and the day after that. The emptiness of the hallway was too much of a comfort to pass on.

 But that didn’t do anything to stop the degradation. They were persistent, creative. They always found a work around. She knew that they would.  She had when she was one of them. She opened her locker and a tumble of notes cascaded forward. Notes and print outs of the images posted on Usha’s page. She didn’t pick them up, she didn’t want to read the commentary. She didn’t want to look at them, at the scene they depicted.

 Her walk to class was numb. She took a seat, ignoring June’s, “glad you can join us.”

Katara’s seat was as empty as she wished she could make hers.

She could hear Chan and Chu-Leng whispering and chuckling behind her. Maybe one day she’d be thin again, like she was before. Maybe one day she’d be thin enough to disappear, to wither away and not be noticed at all…

 .oOo.

 She wandered the halls with no aim in particular, no aim save for avoidance. She spent her lunch hour dodging teachers and hall monitors until she was stopped by someone she hadn’t spoken to in ages. “Aren’t you supposed to be in class?” Coach Ming asked.

 Azula shrugged. “No.”

 “Lunch?”

 Her silence was answer enough.

 “If you get to the cafeteria right now, I’ll pretend like I didn’t see you and you won’t get a late strike.”

 “I’m not hungry.” Azula lied.  

 “You don’t have to be hungry to go to the cafeteria.”

 Azula gave another half-hearted shrug.

 Coach Ming’s smile dropped as she led Azula down the hall. “Ya know, I’ve missed having you on our team, Azula. Usha is a strong player but she doesn’t have…the spark that you did.” She came to a halt. “How are your ribs?”

 She couldn’t see them, couldn’t feel them beneath a very prominent layer of flesh. Other than that, she hadn’t put much thought into them since her accident. “Fine, I guess.”

 “Well then, why don’t you stop by my office after school and we can talk about getting you back on the team for next year?”

 She ought to have been thrilled. But she couldn’t dig up the enthusiasm. Coach Ming had probably only extended the offer out of pity and that alone. “Maybe.” Azula replied. Truth be told she wasn’t much into the prospect of making a fool of herself in front of her former coach. They reached the cafeteria doors.

 “It doesn’t have to be today, Azula.” Ming set a gentle hand on Azula’s back. “Whenever you get time.”

 She stole herself away in the corner of the lunchroom. From there she observed Mai—perhaps it was just the dismal lenses she was viewing the world through that day—but her former friend looked paler and grimmer than usual. Evidently she looked some thinner, and she envied Mai, wishing that her own mood would reap her appetite away instead of increasing it.

 She couldn’t pick Katara out, and decided that the girl must be absent. Suki was not present either. Mercifully, neither was Chan. She wondered when he had left, he was there that morning. Another small mercy was that she did not see Jet. But Chu-Leng, Usha, and the rest of her volleyball team were.

 Azula caught sight of Teo, wheeling himself to a lonely table. A good lot of her wanted to join him, but she decided that ultimately it wouldn’t be fair to the boy to burden him with her anymore. Save for that table there were no seats available so she sat herself down on the floor of that corner, drew her knees up to her chest, and rested her head against the wall.

She was terribly hungry and she had some money left. But she didn’t feel like dragging herself across the lunchroom to food line. Doing so would mean crossing paths with Usha. Anyhow, it was probably for the best that she skipped again. Her father would be happy with the decision.

 She didn’t notice Teo until he greeted her with a very quiet and meek, “you’re not doing too good, are you?”

 She stared at her palms, wishing that he would just do himself a favor and stop conversing with her. And he did. He stopped talking, but he didn’t leave her. He didn’t leave her after the bell rang either, he followed her in silence until he had to break off to go to a different classroom.

 The only mercy Azula had, was that the day was almost done. It was only a mercy until she remembered that she would be returning home to Ozai for her nightly reminder that she was deteriorating his good image.  And that between she and Zuko, he was looking like a fool and a failure.

Perhaps he was, somewhere very deep down, she decided that he must be a fool and a failure to have a missing son and a miserable daughter. She supposed that it took a disappointment to raise two more of them.  

 The waterfall of photos and notes were still scattered on the floor by her locker, she stepped over them and put her books away. After a few newer pieces of paper flooded out, she decided that she would just bypass going to her locker altogether from there on out. They could write her up from coming to class unprepared if they wanted to.

 She noticed a piece of paper still caught in the topmost slit of her locker door so she tore it out. Just one more mistake on her list of them. That one wasn’t a not but a drawing. An exaggerated caricature version of her. Chu-Leng so kindly signed his name on the bottom. A museum worthy piece like that needed a signature.

She let the image fall from her grasp and wandered down the hall.

 “Do you think that Jet really did it?” She overheard.

 “Well the slu—Katara wasn’t at lunch today and neither was Jet…”

 Azula hesitated for a moment.

 “TyLee wasn’t here either.” A different girl put in, if Azula remembered correctly, her name was Meng. The girl who still liked to play with dolls and, occasionally, follow Aang around. “I like TyLee, I hope she comes back soon.”

 “What does TyLee have to do with anything?” Asked the first girl.

 “I heard that she was the one who caught Jet doing…you know.” Answered the second.

“Doing what?” Meng asked.

 “Don’t worry about it.” Spoke the first girl. “You wouldn’t get it.”

 “Just because I’m a freshmen!”

 “No, because you’re you, Meng.” The first girl laughed.

 “Rumor has it that he raped TyLee too…”

 Azula didn’t stick around to hear the rest. But she did manage to catch, “yeah, at one of last year’s parties.” And that was enough. It was enough because she had taken TyLee to those parties. She would have known if something was amiss. She should have…

And so she rationalizes that it had to be more school gossip.

She hoped it was just more school gossip.

 It kept her awake, the possibility that it could be true.

 .oOo.

 Ozai was true to his word the next morning. Just like the night before, he made a point of turning his gaze away from her when they crossed paths. Perhaps that was more of a mercy than anything. At least he wasn’t forcing her to step on the scale again. He only paid her enough attention to toss a single pop-tart her way and a small water bottle.

 It was a parting gift as she left for school.

 Like the day before, Azula sat in her car, waiting for the flow of people to trickle into nothing before making her way into the building. A soft sprinkle of cold rain fell upon her, it caught in tangled locks. Locks that she couldn’t be bothered to comb these days. She wouldn’t have gotten dressed at all if the school didn’t require her to wear a uniform.

 She slumped in her chair. Katara sat next to her giving her ample competition in regards to who was in a bigger state of disarray. It chilled her through and through because the bedraggled appearance so heavily implied that the rumors weren’t just fiction this time.

And she had been calling the girl a whore.

Azula buried her head under her hands.

 When the bell rang, Katara rushed from the classroom with a considerable amount of haste.

 .oOo.

 She supposed that there was no harm in going to the lunch line anymore. Everyone knew who she really was, what she was really like. She was woozy and Ozai wasn’t there to stop her. She would just get rid of everything anyways. She acquired more than her share of  a meal, in seating herself she had lost her nerve. Because it did matter, she didn’t want more pictures to surface. So she finished her meal in the privacy of a bathroom stall. It was so easy to overindulge after being so deprived and easier still when the kind tastes took her mind away from TyLee and Katara.

It was only kind until she remembered what it felt like when her father had her on the scale. After that it was pain and shame all over again and she was glad to already be in a stall. It had been a while since she had to do it. She emptied her stomach and stood. But her knees buckled and she found herself hunching against the stall, waiting for the spell to pass.

She wanted to scream or to cry, or perhaps both. It would draw too much attention though. So she dabbed at her mouth with toilet paper and flushed again. Finally the fuzz in her head began to clear and she stumbled her way back towards Teo’s table.

 He opened his mouth and closed it again. He did so a few times before finally mumbling, “I’m worried about you.” And then he spoke in a near whisper, “Actually, I’m scared. You’re scaring me and I don’t know what to do.”

 Neither did she. So instead she forced a smile and replied. “You don’t have to do anything, I’ll be fine.” Even so, she ached all over and her thoughts were overfull with horrible notions and vile reminders. She couldn’t put it out of her mind that she had been so close to Jet. That there had to have been some point where she had hung out with him and had a good time the morning after he had victimized TyLee. It dizzied her just as well as her physical condition.

 .oOo.

 She waited by the doors, taking a slew of verbal abuse. But she had to catch her. Her focus lapsed in and out and she hoped that she hadn’t missed TyLee because of it. At last she picked out the girl’s flouncy braid. She reached a hand out.

 “Oh, hi Azula.” There was no enthusiasm in the greeting. Her eyes were as bleak as Azula’s own mood.

 And Azula found that she didn’t know what to say. So she said the wrong thing. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

 “Because, you’re you.” TyLee mumbled. “I saw how you treated Katara and you were close to Jet. Why would you believe me? You didn’t even answer your phone. You and Mai…you both left me.”

 “I thought that you were ignoring your texts.”

 “You didn’t think that something could be wrong!? You’ve known me since we were kids and I always replied to your texts right away—because I knew you would get mad if I didn’t, by the way. So, were you?”

 “What?” Azula asked. It began to settle in that this was a horrible idea after all. She must be some sort of masochist, constantly throwing herself into situations she knew wouldn’t end well for her. But in some sick way, she craved the torment. The least she could do, after everything, was allow TyLee to speak her mind.

 “Were you mad? That night. Were you mad that I didn’t text you back right away? Is that why you just left with Mai? Well sorry, I was a little busy.”

 “I don’t think that I was mad. I just knew that Mai needed a ride home and that her mother would have a meltdown if I didn’t get her home.” That much was true. Genuinely, she hadn’t meant TyLee any destruction. Truly, she had just been trying spare Mai trouble. She thought so anyways, but the longer TyLee stared at her the more she felt as though there had been a malicious undertone to it. “I wouldn’t have talked to him if you would have said something. I wish that you would have said something…”

 “I wish that you didn’t make me feel like I couldn’t.”

 “I also wish that I didn’t.” She replied quietly. It seemed so insufficient but it was the best that she could do. She didn’t know of anything else to say, especially when an apology seemed so hollow. She also wished that she could offer more, offer help and support. But she could support herself, much less try to lift another person. Like most other things, it was a useless effort so she muttered something of a goodbye and an apology and slinked off to her car.

 For a good long while, she only eyed the steering wheel, longing for the car to drive itself. She certainly didn’t feel like taking the wheel. She heard a tap on her window, she only rolled it down because it was TyLee who had done the tapping.

 Azula unlocked the door and let TyLee take the passenger’s seat. It brought a sense of familiarity to have the girl sitting there again. That was how things used to be when her phone blew up with messages and plans to go to the mall.

She would love to do that again one day.

 “I don’t want you to be mad at me.” Azula confessed.

 “I don’t want to be mad at you…” She trailed off. “I. It’s not your fault, you didn’t know. If it makes you feel better, I was mad at Mai too for a while.”

 But it was her fault.

She knew TyLee well enough to know that the girl was just being generous.

 “It’s Jet’s fault. All of this is Jet’s fault. I blamed Chan too, but he was just the host.”

 Somehow her words still didn’t alleviate any guilt. Because she had, had it right the first time. If Azula had been a more approachable person, then things would have gone differently. So many things…

 “I think that, that’s what Jet wanted. He wanted me to blame you guys because…” she swallowed. “Because that way, I had no one to talk to. The worst part is, it worked. I was so alone…”

 “And then…”

 TyLee smiled and dabbed at her eyes. “I found Katara.”

 “You saved her?” Azula asked.

 “I guess you can say that.”

 Azula smiled, this time it was genuine. As true as she could muster anyhow. “That counts for something, right? At least you didn’t let it happen to someone else.” She paused. “From the sound of it you were pretty fierce, glad I was able to teach you something.”

 TyLee laughed. “I guess so.”

 “Do you need a ride home?” Azula offered, she thought that it would do her well to have the company.

 “I would take your offer, but I kinda can’t just leave my car here over night.” She rejected, sheepishly. “But, uh, maybe you can come by tomorrow…if the police to pull me in for more questioning again.”

 Azula nodded. At least she had tried. She couldn’t blame TyLee for keeping her distance.  She watched the girl walk to her car before starting her own.

 .oOo.

 She forced herself to take a shower, she was in pretty dire need of one and she wanted to take one aspect of criticism away from her father. But all she could manage to do was sit on the floor of the tub and overthink.

Overthink until her brain finally went numb.

 She had washed her hair out well enough, but when it came to lathering the rest of her body, that was where she had given up. Sweeping her hands over the length of herself made it all too apparent how soft she had grown. So she chucked the soap at the wall and opted to simply sitting there instead.

 The water was beginning to run cold, and still she remained until her father hollered at her for taking too long.

 .oOo.

 She didn’t know if she was reaching out for help or if she was sticking to her masochism, whatever it was, she dropped by her father’s office on her way downstairs. “I talked to coach Ming the other day. She said that I could join the team again.” She elected not to tell him that she never actually dropped by the woman’s office.

 “Did she?”

 Azula nodded, itching for even a twinge of approval.

 “I suppose that they’re letting anyone join these days.”

 Her world crumbled a little further.

 She left the estate feeling empty. She entered Wan High feeling foreboding. Unable to afford a phone call home, she decided that she would try to get to class on time that morning. Her locker is a mess again, more photos and doodles. This time with a sprinkle of terrible photoshops, mostly of her face on the bodies of various sumo wrestlers. It was almost laughably petty. She knew they came courtesy of Usha, they bore such a striking resemblance to the style of those ridiculous images of Katara’s face on different sexy costumes.

This time the inside of her locker was a mess too. Someone took it upon themselves to spill what smelled like vanilla soda through the slits. It was a sticky mess that she hadn’t had time to deal with, and she recalled her plan to just avoid her locker.

 Before she had the chance, someone else slammed her locker shut. “Thought that you could use a drink.”

 “Very thoughtful, Chan.” She replied dryly and with little spunk. She headed in the direction of June’s class. If only he wasn’t going to the same place. It didn’t take much effort for him to fall in step with her.

 “So, are you going to pay me for eating half of the food at my party?”

 “I provided entertainment, you should pay me.” Her words still lacked any bite.

 “That’s true, it’s a gift that keeps on giving.” Chan replied. “Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone eat like that! I don’t know how you can eat so much at once.” He was openly laughing as though he had just said the wittiest thing. As stupid as it was, it stung just as well. “There’s something wrong with you.”

 She could deliver a low blow, could remind him that he let his party guests assault other party guests. She could swoop lower still and tell him that he had a really strong hand in Ruon’s death. Instead she replied, “I am aware,” and dropped herself into her chair.

 “Careful, you’re going to break it!”

 Chu-Leng gave him a high five.

 “Probably.” She muttered. Chan stopped laughing.

 Katara found her own chair a minute or so after the bell rang. Her eyes were puffy and red. Even June skipped her usual remark about tardiness.

 .oOo.

 She decided to switch things up at lunch. She couldn’t say where the compulsion had come from, but it drove her to take a seat next to Katara. Katara who was sitting alone, Suki at the other end of the table. She could sense the tension from a mile away.

 “I heard about the party.”

 “Heard about it? You were there.”

 “I left early…”

 “Right.” She wondered if she sounded as deadpan to Katara as Katara did to her.

 “If it’s any solace, he tried feeling me up.” She didn’t exactly know what point she was trying to make. Perhaps, an acknowledgement that the attack it wasn’t anything Katara had provoked? “I was just laying there.” Maybe a sense of comradery?

 “I wish that, that was all he did to me.”

 “He didn’t actually…?”

 “No, TyLee stopped him.”

 Azula nodded. “TyLee can fight when it matters.”

 “Unlike some people.” It was spoken with a volume that carried to the other side of the table. Azula caught Suki’s head dip. “Why do you care?”

 “I don’t think that you’re a slut.”

 “Then why did you say it? Over and over again.”

 She couldn’t give an answer because she honestly didn’t know. ‘It seemed fun at the time’ didn’t sound like a great answer. But it was the truth. Katara repeated herself.  Perhaps she was just going along with everyone else. She liked to think of herself as a ringleader, and perhaps she was. But really, they fed off of each other. She and Usha and Chan all bouncing vile ideas off of each other. It felt safe, it felt untouchable. It gave them common ground. “I don’t know.” Azula muttered. “I guess I’m just a bad person.”

 Katara’s face scrunched and then softened. “You’re not a bad person…”

 She could say it all she wanted, that wouldn’t make it true. Azula didn’t want to talk about herself anymore so she diverted the subject. “I liked your costume, it suited you.”

 Katara smiled some, “thanks, my mom made if for me.” As soon as she said it, her cheeks flushed.

 Azula didn’t have anything witty to say that time. Truth be told she would have loved it if Ozai would have helped her make a costume. “Is she a seamstress or something?”

 Katara shook her head, “no, but Gram Gram was. Sewing is just a hobby.”

 Azula nodded. “That’s one hell of a hobby.”

 “Yeah! It’s fun too, sometimes we do some sewing together and mom teaches me about different traditional patterns!”

 There was something about her enthusiasm. That momentary glimmer of happiness—something of the old Katara, that cheered Azula. She clung to that. It settled in that she was rather happy herself, because she had found a solution. A way to fix things for herself and for Ozai, just as she had promised.

 “Have you ever done any sewing before?”

 Azula shook her head.

 “Maybe, if you want, I can show you how. I could use a distraction.”

 “Maybe…”

 “Uh…yeah…”

 “I am going to talk to Teo.”

 “Oh, yeah, okay.” Katara replied. It looked as though she wanted to say more, but instead she returned to her lunch. She wondered if she had instilled some sort of false sense of hope. She didn’t allow herself to dwell on it.

 “What did you and Katara talk about?” Teo asked upon seeing her sit.

 “I told her that I don’t think she’s a slut.”

 “Oh, uh, well. That’s progress.” He responded rather awkwardly.

 “She is mad at Suki.”

 Teo glanced over at the table. “That explains why they’re sitting miles apart.”

 “Maybe you should sit with her.” Azula suggested.

 “Sure,” he stood up only for her to tug him back down.

 “Tomorrow.”

 “Alright…” he knitted his brows. “Tomorrow.”

 She stooped down and picked ruffled through her backpack, she pulled out a decently battered volleyball. “I won my first game with this one.” She handed it to him.

 “I wish I could have seen that. It was probably a really great game.”

 Azula smiled. “It was, my father was…he was really proud.” She watched Teo rub his fingers over the greying white fabric.

 “Thank you, Teo.”

 “For what?”

 “For talking to me. It meant—it means a lot.”