a new start

let me try again

The last time Mai was in the palace gardens felt like incalculable millennia ago. And maybe that wasn't entirely untrue—she'd been but a child at the time, a different person, one living in blissful ignorance of the bloodthirsty war machine she partook in. Even now that Mai was no longer a child, now that the war—with the help of her parents—had matured her quickly, there was still so much she did not know. That she was still ignorant to.

But Mai would try. She would learn.

It was a start.

Mai traced a gouge across the too-familiar bark of the old willow tree, one not far from the turtleduck pond, though she stood on the side facing away from the water. Said gouge—and the numerous others surrounding it—were almost all of her own doing, where she'd thrown blade after blade after blade into the trunk until she learned to never miss her target. Until she was satisfied with her own process.

Well. Until she reached her own or Azula's satisfaction, that was. Depending on if Mai had been under the attentive "supervision" of her former friend or if she'd been left to her own devices to practice.

Mai had allowed Zuko to watch her train a few times throughout their youth, too.

Okay—maybe more than a few times.

Often.

Zuko had been wildly impressed by her abilities, and little Mai's heart had fluttered in her chest at twice the speed upon hearing so from him. Zuko had even tried his own hand at knife-throwing because of her contagious interest, but after a couple days decided he preferred his dual dao swords. Mai didn't blame him—knives weren't the tool of choice for everyone.

But they were for her.

In truth, Mai had initially feared Zuko's rejection of knives was akin to a rejection of her, not unlike how her parents had stoically done. But Zuko returned to watch her practice the next day, and the day after, and the day after, and Zuko returned every day that followed to simply...

Be with her, Mai remembered realizing with a hilariously scarlet blush painting itself across her cheeks. Ah, youth. How easy it had been for her to get flustered.

And maybe Mai had taken Zuko's company for granted. Foolishly believing his time by her side would last. Because next thing she knew, Zuko had been banished, Ty Lee had fled for the circus, and Mai's own parents were packing up their lives for Omashu.

Mai sighed, her hand falling from the worn tree and disappearing back into her maroon sleeve. Hers and Zuko's reunion hadn't been until much later, where he had changed so much during their years apart while she had hardly changed at all. Neither of them had matured for the better. Their time after Ba Sing Se had been both blissful and yet tragically short-lived, as after only a few months Zuko had...

Zuko had gone to do the right thing, Mai knew. She hadn't understood the 'how' or the 'why.' Not then. Burned the fire lily, nearly—nearly, but not quite—destroyed his goodbye letter. Mai hadn't understood, but—

But Mai trusted Zuko. She had then, she did now. She'd thus let her trust guide her, turning her back on the Boiling Rock, on Azula, and sending the Avatar's companions on their way. Because Zuko, for all his hotheaded flaws, had always been too good for the life he'd been born into. Unlike her, forever caught up in her own expressionless facade.

But no matter what happened, no matter what came between them... Mai would always trust Zuko. She would always watch Zuko's back. Protect him.

"I thought I'd find you here."

A smile tugged at Mai's lips despite herself. She would watch Zuko's back, while Zuko would sneak up behind hers. What a pair they made.

"Don't you have a coronation to prepare for, future Fire Lord?" she drawled as she turned around to face her boyfriend, her small smile soon growing into a teasing smirk. "The Sages will be clamoring for your presence in what—thirty minutes?"