Chapitre 56: Book I, Act IX: Burning Bridges, Chapter III
Edited by: Bieverdog AO3: GalavantingGoose
Book I, Imbalance
Act IX: Burning Bridges
Music:
Main Theme(Homage to Alchemy)- FMAB OST
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D-9aZU0lZSk&list=PLAC7C6367B6B22EC4&index=8
Father - Tokyo Ghoul OST https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ykKlNK-tSks&list=PLnmfcVS3-ubd7meP-afEcmPDwLQhdYW-u&index=42
Chapter III
Azula could barely hear the screams from outside her cell, leaving it to the imagination what was happening. The doors opened and closed throughout the day, and she heard the orderly march of the guards rotating and the unmistakable sound of bodies being dragged without a fight. Seeing, or even hearing, a nurse had become an oddity. As far as she knew, she was the only one still being handled by them.
Yet, she still did not know what to trust. Could her senses have been deceiving her? She constantly questioned herself, tried to test things out as best as she could. So, she tore open a little section of the padded wall, marking every time she doubted something. She kept count of the scratches and recounted them each time, hoping that if her mind deceived her, something would be off, not in the exact place, right order, or amount.
To think she was better would have been a delusion; at least, she knew that. Remembering things didn't mean that everything was fixed. It just meant that her mother was still there somewhere; had become something of an omnipresent entity. A whisper here, the thought of her face there; she even appeared in her dreams if she had any. Her head sometimes felt like it would explode, and the pain would leave her unable to think, rendered her bedridden.
She couldn't complain that much at least, for knowing how to avoid Mother and endure the pain made the episodes somewhat bearable. The only tedious part was the hours of waiting, staring at the ceiling, or listening. No matter how hard she tried, time refused to pass faster. She tried thinking of battle scenarios and mental math problems, but what good did analyzing the Battle of Garsai or computing square roots do for a prisoner?
Before, she thought Zirin had been a pain, but having someone to talk to had made the hours fly by. It was hard to count the hours, or days, maybe even weeks. She measured it by the times she was tired, or the guards rotated. That was at least a good indication. From her point of view, it was impossible to tell whether it was night or day. To her, they both were the same now.
As usual, the metal door opened with a bang, and Zirin was brought back bloodied and covered in bandages and stitches. Half of her face had become swollen and mottled green and purple. It had been going on for a few months. Maybe if her counting was right, they'd beat her up, let her heal for a few days, and start over again. At this rate, Azula figured it wouldn't be long before she would be the sole occupant of that room. In stark contrast, the guards were careful not to even touch a hair of her head. At least, there was something she could thank them for. Or was it the doctor?
Like a bag of potato-chokes, Zirin was thrown on her bed, and the guards thrust the door shut and bolted it, not taking their eyes off of her for a moment. They were ready for anything now.
Zirin spat blood, sitting down and staring at her. "Will… you help now?"
"For the thousandth time, no, I won't do it. And if you keep on pressing like this, those guards are not the only thing you'll have to worry about."
"You say that because you're afraid."
Azula looked the other way. "No, I just recognize a lost cause when I see one."
Her roommate gave her a dry laugh. "And this is your alternative: staying here to die? I'd rather die trying than live like this."
"Zirin, look at you! You're half dead already, and you haven't even done anything yet. What's this little revolt of yours going to do–annoy them? It's not even going to leave a scratch. You've already lost the advantage of surprise and are outnumbered, isolated. They'll swat you all like spider-flies instantly. You're better off trying to endure this; eventually, they'll get bored of hitting you."
She shook her head, disbelief showing on the scant, unblemished patches of her face. "We have to try… There's no other way."
"Your plan will fail before it has even started; you'll see. I suggest you start thinking of a Plan B."
"And what was yours?"
Azula hung her head. "...It doesn't matter; just keep your head low, survive. Maybe the opportunity will present itself."
"And what do you think I'm doing? They don't care; they attacked me. What am I supposed to do? Lay down and let them kick me just because they feel like it?"
"If you need to, yes; otherwise, they'll just kill you."
Her roommate lay on her bed, turning her back to her. "Terrific. Nice talk, pet, as always. Too bad I'm not some savage for you to be so inclined as to help me." Her voice felt crackly.
"Nice try; but if you have a death wish, you can try your luck tomorrow with the guards."
Zirin shuddered. "I'd rather die trying than spend one more hour in here with you."
"Your loss. Even if you don't see it that way, I'm trying to help you."
Her roommate scoffed. "Help? All you've gotten is…" Zirin's voice broke; and amidst tears, she continued, "...to turn me into a punching bag for these sick bastards–"
"I'm sorry… I never–"
"Sorry? That's not gonna cut it by a mile. You knew exactly what you were doing. Those guards weren't the only people you killed. All of 'em who fought, their deaths are on you! All of 'em that are going to die? On you too!"
Azula threw up her hands. "And what am I supposed to do?! It is pointless, Zirin. It's not like before. I don't– I don't see a way out…"
Zirin's eyes were manic. "Then find one! Before I use the only way out I know! Before you get another body on your conscience."
"Azula!" The voice in the back of her head pounded like a drum, and she lost her footing and fell.
Zirin watched indifferently, with tears still running down her face. "I– Wait… No."
"Azula! Why are you burning the flowers?" Her mother forcibly held her hand away from the half-charred, white flowers. Their burnt petals slowly fell as she shook her hand off of her mother's. She crossed her arms, pointing at the ashes. "I told you I didn't like them. You should change them."
"Your father will hear of this, young lady!"
Azula smirked. "Fine, let him. Then I'll be able to tell him to order you to get better ones."
Her mother's face was red with rage. "That is it! You are grounded! Your friends are not allowed to come to the palace for the weekend."
"Like I care."
Her mother seemed to drag her through the palace like she would one of her toys. Azula could tell she wasn't in the mood for a jest. The servants stepped away from their path as she made a straight line for her room. She almost slammed the door against the wall when she opened it; and once inside, she let go of her hand, which was now red from her grip.
"You will stay here and think about what you've done."
"Sure. Will that be all, Mother? You're starting to bore me."
"I'll think of something, Azula."
"Yes, start thinking about picking new flowers; might save you some time."
Ursa sighed roughly and closed the door softly, with her eyes downcast. Azula's glare fixed on her as she left. She wanted to burn through the door but chose to stomp towards her toys. Who does she think she is, she thought. She had no authority over her, no voice, yet she was furious.
She picked up one of her porcelain dolls, slamming it against the wall so hard it broke into pieces. She slightly regretted her decision, but she quickly convinced herself she didn't like it that much. She sat on her bed, recalling the breathing exercises from her fire bending lessons. One… two… three… She exhaled and did it again. She stopped to think. Her mother held no authority; thus, her words were meaningless. Then, it made no sense for her to comply; she could carry on as normal. There would be no punishment in defying her. To send a message, she'd even go see her friends while she was at it–
There was a faint knock at the door, and she didn't even have to guess. It was Zuko.
Her brother creaked open the door. "Azula… Can I come in?"
She pouted sarcastically. "Go away. Mother 'grounded' me."
"I heard… Not really planning on staying here, right?" Zuko invited himself in.
Was she becoming that predictable? "Of course not, I just figured I'd rest for the time being."
Zuko didn't reply at first. He only stood awkwardly at the door, staring at the floor, but she knew why he was there. "Why did you do that?"
She played with a flame in her fingers then looked at her brother, uninterested. "Those flowers were an eyesore, and they smell weird. We can't have that at the palace."
"Is that it? Isn't that a little dumb? They're just flowers."
She raised her tone half-jokingly and with an air of superiority. "But Father said I have to assert my will to be a proud descendant of Sozin. So, I asserted it."
Zuko scoffed. "With flowers?"
She shrugged. "The flowers just happened to be in my way."
"Right. Wouldn't have anything to do with them being mother's favorite."
"Like I would know what she likes; but if she does, she should have better taste."
He was taken aback. "Burning them won't change her tastes; they're from the town she grew up in."
"Oh please, Zuzu. What are you? Her royal fanner? Who cares what backwater hovel she came from."
"I was just saying it's not like she'll stop liking them."
She shrugged. "Then I will keep burning them until she changes her mind. It would be an embarrassment to keep such eyesores."
"Azula…" Zuko looked to the ground again.
She jumped from her bed and stopped by him. "What? Are we going or not?"
Her brother raised a brow. "Where to?"
"I'll go see Mai. Ty Lee's probably with her." As soon as she mentioned the name, Zuko's face went as red as his shirt. Really, Zuzu? Mai or Ty Lee?
"I– Uh… sure."
Azula narrowed her eyes, smirking. "Was that a blush, Zuzu? Try not to get an eye poked out."
Her brother looked away. "I don't know what you're talking about. Can we just go?"
Ah, Mai it is. Her voice was saccharine. "I'll try to make it embarrassing; it's only what a good little sister should do."
Her brother followed, rearranging his collar (almost imperceptibly, of course). He was looking more absent-minded than usual, perhaps thinking about what he was going to say, only to end up stammering like an idiot. He was desperately going to need a hand; Mai wasn't one to wear her heart on her sleeve, or any emotion for that matter. It was going to be tough, but doable. Perhaps it would even amuse her for a while as well.
She would let him try on his own first, just for the laughs, watching him stare blankly for a few minutes or maybe run away embarrassed. Oh, prodding Mai about it would be the juiciest part. Even if she thought herself unreadable, Azula could read her like an open book. Her almost blank face had proven to be great practice to spot even the tiniest of details: a slight twitch of irritation, a subtle curve of a smile, a touch of color on the cheeks.
Ty Lee, on the other hand, was the complete opposite, for she didn't even have to guess how she was feeling. She'd annoyingly let them know without a second thought, either jumping and chirping with delight or outright telling her exact emotional state down to how she enjoyed her breakfast. Thinking about it, pairing Zuko with her would have been fun to watch as well.
Carried away by her own thoughts, she hadn't even noticed they were almost through the main gates.
"Azula, where do you think you are going?"
"To Mai's. As far as I am aware, Father hasn't grounded me. Would you be so kind as to step out of the way?"
"Zuko, would you let me speak to your sister alone?"
She rolled her eyes. "Do not delay, Mother; wouldn't want to be late for tea time."
"Could you stop for a single moment, Azula? Please, I don't know how to tell you anymore."'
"Then don't."
"Why are you doing this, Azula? Am I doing something wrong? Is something bothering you? You weren't like this. Is it something I said? …I just don't know anymore! Just tell me something I can do so you don't act like… this!"
"Hmm. You know, I wonder what that might be. Perhaps you should ask Father. I'm sure he'll be more than happy to explain the things that cannot be done in the palace, one of them being wasting my time for no reason. If it makes you feel better, I'm sure he'll find something more useful for you to do than prod me around."
With tears in her eyes, Ursa held up her hand to strike but relented. "Just… go. Enjoy it. It will be the last time you see them for a month."
"Sure. Let's go, Zuko."
Zuko was looking down, standing still. "I– I don't want to go."
"Fine, stay with mommy, then."
"Zuko?" Azula looked around; she wasn't in the palace anymore, just an endless, dark void.
"He isn't here, Azula…" Her mother's voice echoed around her.
"Stop this! I've had enough of you!"
"Why is it so hard for you to understand?"
"Oh, I understand what you want. You can't keep me away forever."
The Liar's voice was sickly soft. "It's not about that, Azula. I love you; I would never–"
"Shut up! Stop it; I don't believe you, I never will! You may have deceived others; but I see through you, I know what you are. you're trying to mess with me; with my head. Maybe you thought that by making me go crazy, I'd stay here forever. To torture me until I forgot who I was, so I wasn't a threat to your precious Zuzu."
"Daughter, please…"
"No! You don't get to call me that! You're nothing to me, you hear me?! Do your worst; you won't break me. I know you aren't real. I don't know how or why, but I know it's you. I knew Father never managed to kill you, as much as he would have liked to. You're only here because you're alive. I'm not crazy, you are out there…"
Pleading. "Azula..."
"Is that all you ever say?! You don't dare show your face; why would you now? You were always scared, a filthy coward, still hiding somewhere trying to manipulate me… I'll find you. I swear to you, I'll burn the life out of you. You'll regret ever daring to hurt me."
"I never knew you hated me this much, but you are confused, Azula. I would never wish to harm you. Has death solved any of your problems? Destruction will only bring you more pain."
Azula laughed hollowly. "The dead don't speak, so at least that would be one problem out of my head."
"But you still see them, don't you? You always see them."
She shut her eyes tightly, seeing their burnt faces flash through her mind. "But I'll know the dead from the living, then."
"Yet it hasn't made you feel any better, quite the contrary in fact. You shut yourself down and blame others for your misdeeds? I never had any influence in your actions. All you did, you did yourself."
"Lies! You had all of the influence! And I don't need to feel better as long as I know the pain is my own, not your torture."
False commiseration. "I'm sad you feel that way, but you should know killing me won't bring you any peace. You'll only hurt yourself further."
"Then I'll see if it will bring me pleasure. Goodbye, Mother." The darkness turned to a pale light, and she fluttered her eyes open, seeing two blurry faces towering over her.
"She's awake, Doctor."
"Don't worry, you are safe. Rest now."
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone