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bellatrixobsessed1 · 4 years

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Kissing Dead Pearls (Part 15)

Warning for blood and death in this chapter.

She had been there when her mother died. She had been there when their sunny day turned so abruptly sour. When the clouds unleashed a big one without warning. It was just like the most recent storm, the news anchors had failed to adequately report the incoming storm and so they, alongside, several other families had gotten caught in it.

The day had been so kind and promising. Ursa packed their lunch, three grilled hot dogs that Ozai had left for them before heading off to help out at the marina, a bag of hotdog buns, a bowl of watermelon, and several water bottles. Zuko, newly sixteen, insisted that they bring some of the leftover cake too.

Ursa had caved and they were on their way out for a day of shell hunting and tubing. Azula couldn’t have been more pumped, she knew that she would come out bruised and sore, she always did in her successful efforts to outlast Zuko. In doing so, she had taken some rather hard falls. She very vividly remembers a summer ago when they’re competition got particularly heated. Both she and Zuko were clinging on for the sake of their pride. Typically they could last a good ten minutes of Ursa speeding over the waves before a good bump would dislodge one of them. They were on minute twelve. Her hands were cramped and achy from clenching the tube’s nylon handles for so long. But Zuzu had still been clinging and she would too. He let go first. She found out why soon enough. He informed her later that she had been tossed several feet into the air and did several backflips both before and after hitting the water. It had knocked the wind out of her and her entire body ached for days. But she had won.

The sky was so blue. The clouds were fluffy and white and the seagulls circled and squabbled over dropped french fries. Nobody seemed to have noticed when they suddenly disappeared. Maybe if they had, they would have known something in the air was amiss.

But everyone remained, a group of college kids at a volleyball net, a family building sandcastles, a different family departing with fishing poles at the ready, and a couple and their dog throwing a frisbee.

Ursa arranged their lunch and as they ate, she inquired about how Azula was enjoying her first year of high school so far. She had said that she was only a month in and needed more time to decide, but that she loved her new surf team so far. It was much more serious and competition driven. And then Zuko got to talk about how well his cooking was improving.

She remembers the smell of sea and barbeque in the air as she helped Ursa load the rest of their shells into the back of the car. She remembers the smell of the sunscreen that Ursa sprayed on her when she refused to do it herself. She remembers how her mother too smelled of sunscreen but also faintly of strawberry perfume.

Strawberry sunscreen, still lingers in her mind. Strawberry sunscreen is what she remembers most about her mother.

She tries to focus on strawberry sunscreen instead of strawberry colored blood mixing with seafoam.

They had just secured the innertube, a bright orange and blue thing with a company logo and name plastered in bright red on the front. The air seemed electrified, and in retrospect, maybe Azula should have said something. But she hadn’t and they were well into the ocean a crackle of lightning upset the waves.

It happened so unprocessablely fast. One minute there was sun and in an instant there was an impenetrable curtain of rain. How quickly fluffy and white had turned to wispy and concrete.

They abandoned their tube and hurried into the boat. Her heart had never raced faster and she thanked every higher power there was that she had Zuko had been so furiously competitive. They probably wouldn’t have had the ability to cling on for so long otherwise. Even still she was shaking by the time Ursa managed to reel them in.

There was no time for relief, she helped her mother navigate while Zuko helped hold her steady. Azula could see the shore. She could also see a boat turn over, spilling several fishing poles. She hadn’t known it then, but she would later find out that a girl in her class named Yue and her family had perished.

She zeroed in on the shore and guided her mother around rocks and debris. They were going to make it, they were going to…

She hadn’t spotted the reef on time. She underestimated the tides.

The tides pulled them right into the reef and shredded the bottom of their boat. They were going down and fast. Lifejackets were no match for such ruthless tides. She saw Zuko go overboard first. The same wave took her mother. She had room in her arms for one of them.

She emerged from the water with her legs and arms shredded. Blades of coral proved to be just as merciless as the tides. The sensation was searing and blood trickled down her arms and legs. She felt so dizzy and weak. She couldn’t tell how much of the blood was hers and how much was Zuzu’s.

She dragged him to the shore and scanned the water for her mother. The woman was fighting the waves, and for a moment, Azula thought that she would make it. Maybe she would have if their boat hadn’t…

Azula’s memory goes blank there, she just remembers seeing blood on the seafoam. Blood like strawberries and foam like sunscreen.

She never did tell Zuzu that she had to choose between he and their mother. She never told father.

.oOo.

He writes the letter out, it is sloppy with haste, but he thinks that it is to the point. It will probably speak for him better than he can. He bunches it up in his hand and shoves it into his pocket, alongside his first AA chip.

He tries the beach first. He finds Zuko and Katara, he hears them calling out for Azula but the girl is nowhere in sight. Nor does he spot Jet. It occurs to him that they are looking in the wrong place. Of course she won’t be on the beach, not as furious and upset as she is. His second guess is the cliffside, but he would have seen her already. Those are her two usual spots. There is one other.

Ozai considers taking the car, it would be alot faster but he thinks that walking is the way to go. He isn’t one to place his bets on gut instincts, that is what Iroh does. This time he does though, he walks for several miles. Walks until his already spent and exhausted body threatens to give. What a horrid way to spend his birthday. It is his own fault, he reminds himself.

He takes a deep breath and resumes his walk until he comes upon a rickety old park. It had been a dilapidated wooden accident waiting to happen when Azula was just a child, now it is completely crumbled. The only thing left standing is a rusty old merry-go-round, the only metal structure at the park. The shoreline that it is built on is a cluttered mess of driftwood, broken shells, and pollution; glass bottles, both broken and intact, deflated beach balls, discarded plastic shovels, forgotten goggles now fogged with algae, and empty beer cans.

It smells potently of dead fish and runoff. Ozai isn’t sure why she still wanders over here, but he does find her. She is perched upon a structurally unsound picnic table. Jet stands next to her, likely aware that any more weight will collapse the rotting table. He has a hand on her back and is rubbing ever so tentatively while she rather openly vents.

Jet notices him first. “She doesn’t wanna talk to you, old man!” He brazenly declares.

Ozai opens his mouth to berate the boy for his brash disrespect. Instead he says, “no talking involved, just give this to her.” He leaves no opening for the boy to decline. He isn’t sure if he should stand here and wait as she reads it or if he should begin making his way back to the lighthouse and hope for the best.

He stands with his arms folded while he waits for Jet to hand his daughter the note. He never drops his glare as he passes it off. Azula looks briefly at him before unfolding the note.

He tries to read her expression as her eyes follow the lines. She sets the note aside and presses her lips together. Her brows crease and her eyes narrow, she fixes them straight on the crashing waves in front of her.

Ozai waits. She is drawing the minute out.

.oOo.

Azula isn’t quiet sure how to take it. She can’t recall a time when her father has ever apologized to her--or anyone for that matter--vocally or otherwise. She fidgets with the note for a moment. It is very short and concise, a little lacking, but it is an apology no less. An apology and a thank you. She rubs her lips against one another and squeezes Jet’s hand harder. “Why?” She asks at last.

“Because,” he answers. “I don’t want to lose you too.”

“No.” She says. “If you appreciate what I tried to do for you then why? Why did you get angry with me? Why were you angry with me before.”

“Before?”

“You wouldn’t let me visit you. It’s because I tried to leave, isn’t it?”

The statement seems to take ten years off of his life. Suddenly he looks so tired. “I wouldn’t let you visit me because there are some things that you don’t need to see. You already saw your mother…” he trails off.

Her stomach knots all over again.

“I wasn’t angry with you.” He says again. “I’m not angry with you.”

“Then why did you…”

He rubs his hands over his face. “I just wasn’t expecting company, Azula. You don’t like to be seen before you’ve had a chance to fix your hair and makeup.” He tries.

It is a fair point. Even still… “I thought that it would be a nice surprise. You know Katara and I thought that you would want to meet…” She trails off, unsure if this is a good time.

“Your boyfriend?” Ozai guesses. She opens her mouth but he answers before she can ask, “I can’t imagine that he would be so bold if you were just a friend.”

Jet gives a slight chuckle.

Azula crosses her arms.

“Come home with me. We will gather your brother and Katara and have that cake. It would be a shame if you wasted all of that time cooking for nothing, yes?”

.oOo.

Azula nods. That slight pout doesn’t leave her face. She has grown so much, in the last two years. But there are still moments, still small flashes when he can see that she is only a child. “You are getting the smallest piece though.”

He rolls his eyes but he will let her have this one, it is fair enough all things considered.

She continues. “Cake is for grateful fathers.” This gets another chuckle out of Jet.

But he is grateful, and not just for the cake. He is thankful that she won’t walk the same path that he has. She is resilient--he can’t help but stare at the scars on her legs, she has too many of them for a girl so young. She is strong, maybe stronger than he is. And she is moving on, just as she had done with her mother.

“Your brother is going to be a bit harder to convince.”

Azula shakes her head, “he just doesn’t think that you’re trying. I think that he’ll come around when I tell him that you walked all of this way just to hand me a note.” She holds up her cellphone. “It was on the whole time.”

Ozai sighs, he always lets his temper drive out clear thinking. For once that is probably better. “Would that have been as effective?”

Azula thinks for a moment before shaking her head again. “You walked all that way just for me.” She flashes him a smug smile.

“That or he really wants some cake.” Jet comments with a shrug.

“He wants the cake because I made it.”

“We made it.”

“It was my idea!”

At least he can take comfort in that he hadn’t irreparably broken her mood. He can take comfort in that he hasn’t lost his girl.

#Avatar The Last Airbender #Azula #Zuko #Ozai #Ursa #Jet #Fanfiction #Sokkla

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