TRIAL BY FIRE [SOKKA]

ii.

ii. no rest for the wicked

SHE wanted everything to be perfect. Everything had to be absolutely perfect; especially when her best friend was involved. Everything had to be perfect, when everything was on the line. Kazuya wanted to go home; more and more every day, until she was sure she couldn't miss the cobblestone streets and mindless chatter. She missed her elaborately decorated room, and the way the Academy always smelt like smoke. And yet, day after day, she was proven wrong as the memories grew more distant, until it was painfully difficult to hold onto. Painful to remember.

So, everything had to be perfect in order for Kazuya to go home. She sat in front of the mirror, watching carefully as her handmaiden placed her heavy black armor over her shoulders. The weight settled on her familiarly, though she could remember a time where she could hardly bear her armor without toppling over. It was comfortingly heavy; a constant weight that enclosed her and made her feel safer, like a caterpillar in a cocoon.

She wondered sometimes if she was bigheaded, but Kazuya thought she looked like she was born to wear it. It made her shoulders appear broader and her frame more intimidating, settling over her long red tunic. She thought it made her look fierce and deadly, the way she had been taught to look. She studied her face in the mirror, narrowing her eyes and forcing her features to remain stoic. She almost thought she looked like Azula.

Rei moved to her hair and pulled the top half back into a top-knot that rested just at the back of her head, where it wouldn't uncomfortably interfere with her helmet. Two small strands fell out by her part onto her forehead and by her temples, but she waved Rei away - they never would stay, anyway. Once satisfied, Rei knelt to lace her thick boots as Kazuya gently lined dher eyes with kohl and painted her lips the shade of berries. She placed her dual swords in their sheaths and quickly cracked her neck.

As Rei settled Kazuya's heavy helmet atop her head, Zuko knocked on the door and walked in, clearly pleased to see that she was fully ready. She said, "You have to wait for me to permit you to enter! Learn some manners!"

Zuko waved her off and quickly examined her, "You look like a warrior," he nodded to Rei to dismiss her from the room as he added, "Certainly more ferocious than you did as a child."

Kazuya smiled softly, and Zuko mirrored it so subtly that Kazuya thought only she was able to detect his microexpressions. She nudged his side with her elbow, "I was plenty fierce when I was younger; who else would have kept Azula grounded?"

He winced, and Kazuya sighed softly; she shouldn't have mentioned his sister. Though he was two years older, his younger sister had always been able to jab him in just the right places with her sharp tongue. Kazuya, who was in the center of the two, quickly became the dividing force and tried her hardest to keep the peace. But it was hard, and though Azula was one of her friends, Kazuya would be the first to admit that she was brash, harsh and took too much pleasure in antagonizing the people around her.

And Zuko had always been sensitive, underneath his harsh exterior. He relied on his mother's aid to stand up to her; but she was long gone, and even Mai, who liked Zuko, would jeer at him from behind Azula, and so Kazuya had to step up. Azula never listened to her, but she would try her hardest to comfort Zuko and try to remain impartial, so as to not upset Azula further. It was a tight line that she walked, but it was worth it - Zuko was worth it.

She felt bad that she pitied her best friend, and she knew he would despise her if he found out. But it was hard not to; not when she had seen his life combust and blow up in his face - and though she loved her home and she missed her friends, she felt bad for Zuko. She wanted to help him; she wanted to be there for him when no one else would be.