Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It happened a few days after Zuko’s tenth birthday. Not that he got many presents, but the ones he got, he treasured above all else—a red kimono from his mom, a paper dragon from Ty Lee, a new brush from Mai, but especially the knife from Uncle Iroh. His father, who gave him a pair of socks, laughed when he saw the knife, but Zuko didn’t let that get into his head. It was a great gift, and he’s going to learn how to use it to make his uncle proud.

But this morning, when Zuko wanted to take the knife out of its box, he found it empty. Panicked, he searched every inch of his room but found nothing. He wandered around the house, fighting the tears welling in his eyes, when he heard soft grunts coming from the living room.

When Zuko got there, he saw Azula playing with his knife, slaying an invisible enemy on her way as she jumped around the coffee table.

“Give it back, ’Zula!” Zuko yelled. He stomped over to the couch and stood in her way. Azula looked up at him, a mischievous grin playing on her face, and ran in the opposite direction, the knife clutched in her right hand.

Zuko groaned and went after her. They ran up and down the stairs, both getting quieter when running near the door to Ozai’s office. Zuko had longer legs, but Azula still escaped every time Zuko thought he had her. But then Azula ran into the hallway that led to the kitchen. Zuko smiled when he saw her slowing down and reached his hand out to grab her. At the last moment, Azula laughed and made a sharp turn to the right, revealing a vase in her way.

Zuko closed his eyes as he crashed right into it. The deafening sound of the vase hitting the ground made Zuko flinch. Luckily, there wasn’t any water inside. The shards hit Zuko’s legs, and he stands frozen in place, afraid of stepping on it and cutting himself.

“You silly,” Azula said, giggling. She let him grab the knife from her hand, but before Zuko could tell Azula what he thought of her, they heard loud footsteps descending the stairs. They both froze, and Zuko hid the knife behind his back.

Ozai marched toward them, and Zuko suddenly felt as if the walls of the narrow hallway closed in on him, wanting to crush his body into pieces.

Ozai stopped a few inches away, his icy gaze fixed on the shards on the floor. “What did you do now, Zuko?!” Ozai spat out his name as if it were an insult, and Zuko cowered, his throat tight.

“I-“

“It was my fault,” Azula said and positioned herself between their father and Zuko. Even though Ozai never raised his hand on her, Zuko could see the slightest tremor in Azula’s small frame as she attempted to shield him.

“Oh, was it?” Ozai mocked her, a cold smile twisting his lips.

Azula stood her ground, not moving her gaze away from Ozai’s stare. For a few moments, Zuko feared Ozai was going to push Azula into the shards. His grip on the knife tightened, and he knew that if his father as much as touched Azula right now, he would hurt him. Zuko held his breath as Azula and Ozai seemed to play some sort of staring contest, but then Ozai sighed.

“Do better next time, Azula. I raised you better than that,” he said, at last, his tone warmer.

Azula nodded and stepped back, standing next to Zuko. Zuko stood with his head bowed and forced himself to loosen his grip on the knife.

He let out a deep breath as Ozai’s footsteps grew quiet, and he heard the soft thud of his office door closing.

“I’m sorry, Zuzu,” Azula whispered.

Zuko looked at her, and the sight of the deep fear on his little sister’s face made his heart break. He stepped over the shards, put the knife on the ground, and put his arms around her. Azula clung to him, her bony arms wrapping around his middle. She cried into his chest, and Zuko promised himself that he would do everything he could to spare her from ever having to save him again.

Chapter Text

For a few years, he kept his promise. Azula got spared most of his mistreatments — all the beatings, food withholding, and verbal abuse —but Zuko should have known his luck would run out sooner rather than later.

It was all his fault, anyway. Last week, Ozai yelled at Zuko because he was failing history, so Zuko spent most nights crouched over his books, forcing all the names and dates into his brain, but it all kept falling out as soon as he read it. Keeping his eyelids open became impossible, and he spent almost every day sleeping in the school library. But today, he forgot to set the alarm and slept well past his curfew. Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee found him, and Azula drove them all home.

As soon as Zuko and Azula walked in the door, they saw Ozai waiting in the hallway, his jaw clenched, and his hands tightened into fists. Zuko froze and prayed that Azula would go away. Ozai didn’t look like he would tolerate her interference this time. Instead, Azula grabbed his wrist and tried to get him to stand behind her.

He shrugged her off as gently as he could and forced out a smile. “I’ll be okay. Go, please,” he added when she kept standing in place. He let out a breath of relief when she ran past Ozai and up the stairs, probably to her room. She told him in the car that her phone had died, and Ty Lee was freaking out that she wasn’t answering.

Ozai moved to the side to let Azula through, but his stare stayed fixed on Zuko, his eyes hard as stone. “What time is your curfew?”

Zuko gulped and slouched his shoulders, trying to hide from Ozai’s piercing glare. “At five.”

“What time is it now?” Ozai asked.

“Six.”

“Tell me, I forgot... Does six come after or before five?”

“After.”

“You can count,” Ozai said, a mocking smile appearing on his face. He pushed Zuko against the wall and grabbed his chin, digging his fingers into his gums. “Where were you?”

“I was studying. I fell asleep- Ahh!“

Zuko’s vision blurred when Ozai bashed his head against the wall. His breathing quickened, and his fingers bored into Ozai’s forearms.

“I’m sorry, Father. Please-“

“It’s not Zuzu’s fault.” Azula returned from her room, dressed in the koi fish t-shirt that Ty Lee gave her as a birthday present.

Zuko’s chest tightened when Ozai rolled his eyes. He tried to break free, but his father only tightened his grip on his jaw, and Zuko’s knees buckled from the pain. He heard Azula let out a quiet gasp. Their eyes met from behind Ozai’s shoulder. Azula’s golden eyes were wide with panic. “I drove Zuko, Mai, and Ty Lee home from school,” she added, her voice level. “We got stuck in traffic. I would’ve called you, but my phone died. I’m sorry, Father.”

Ozai narrowed his eyes and released Zuko’s chin. Zuko moved to protect Azula but dropped to his knees as the world around him spun. He stopped and took deep breaths, wiping away the tears that sprang from his eyes when he moved his jaw.

Ozai looked at Azula, and Zuko’s whole body went rigid. “I’m sure your friends can get home on their own. I don’t see any reason for you to continue helping them. Or Zuko.”

“But-“ Azula started. She fell silent when Ozai raised his hand. He turned back to Zuko, his lips curling in disgust. He crouched down. Zuko’s hands trembled as he moved closer to the wall, his eyes fixed on the tiled floor.

“This better not happen again. For your sake,” Ozai said, his voice low. “Or you will have a reason to cry for real. Do you understand?”

Zuko nodded.

Ozai’s fist slammed into the wall beside Zuko’s head. Zuko jumped and moved his hands to cover his face, his chest tightening.

“Do you understand?” Ozai repeated.

“I understand,” Zuko gasped out.

Ozai straightened. “You’re without dinner,” he said before disappearing upstairs.

As soon as they heard the click of the office door, Azula helped Zuko up and into his room, where she ordered him to sit on his bed and stay before leaving. A few minutes later, she returned, hands full of ointments and ice packs wrapped in towels.

“I’m fine, Azula,” Zuko said when she put the ointments in her hands and reached for his face. “You don’t have to-“

“Shut it.” Azula gently massaged his jaw with her fingers and winced when Zuko hissed. Zuko noticed, and the next time her touch made his face burn with pain, he bit his tongue and kept quiet, looking past Azula at the wall of his room.

“Thanks,” he said when Azula finished applying the ointment. Azula smiled and dried her hands with a tissue she took from Zuko’s bedside table.

“Do you want me to stay?” she asked and handed Zuko one of the ice packs wrapped in a towel. ”We could watch a movie.”

Zuko took the ice pack from her and put it on the right side of his jaw, careful not to press it too hard. “I’m fine.”

Azula rolled her eyes but didn’t press further. “Alright then. I’ll be back later with dinner.”

“But Father said-“

Azula ignored him and shut the door to his room with a bang.

Even though it hurt, Zuko smiled.

Chapter Text

“How was school?” Ozai asked, looking around the dining table.

Zuko continued eating his noodles, not wasting his breath on telling him about what had happened that day. He only wanted to know about Azula, anyway.

“I got the best grade in math,” Azula announced with a proud smile, straightening her shoulders.

Ozai picked up a piece of salmon with his chopsticks. He looked at it for a moment before putting it in his mouth and chewing, as if Azula said nothing. “That’s good,” he said at last.

Azula’s shoulders sagged, and she stabbed her chopsticks through the salmon on her plate.

When Zuko glanced up, he saw his father’s gaze set on him. He gulped and his left hand, hidden under the table, tightened into a fist.

Zuko looked back into his plate, trying to ignore Ozai’s stare, but he couldn’t focus on anything else. His hand shook so much that the noodles fell through his chopsticks the next time he put them into his mouth.

“What about you, Zuko?” Ozai asked, dragging the question out. “How was your day?”

He knows.

Zuko put a big piece of salmon into his mouth, chewing as slowly as he could while his mind began racing. Should he tell him the truth or act like he didn’t know what he was talking about? No, tell the truth, since Ozai already knew something happened, and lying would only make him want to punish Zuko more.

“Pretty good,” Zuko started. He saw Azula looking at him from the corner of his eye, and he tapped her foot with his, letting her know he got this. “At least until lunch.”

Ozai narrowed his eyes and Zuko continued, “I was sitting with Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee when this guy came up and-“

“It was Jet. A wild child that can’t stay with any foster family for more than a month. I still don’t understand why they let those people in our school,” Azula said.

Zuko glared at her. Why did she have to keep inserting herself every time? He kicked her with more force and mouthed, “Stop it,” but Azula continued.

“Jet made fun of Ty Lee’s hair bow, so Zuko punched him. I think he got what he deserved. These people shouldn’t even talk to us, much less make fun of our hair,” Azula said. The pure spite in her voice shocked Zuko, even though he knew she was exaggerating. Azula hated Jet, and if Zuko didn’t punch him, she would have, but Zuko knew she didn’t mean what she said. At least, he hoped.

Ozai smiled. “You’re right. Who do they think they are? I think...” He continued to rage about the new policies the school had agreed on concerning children from less fortunate families, but Zuko tuned him out. He focused on finishing his food in case Ozai took it from him.

A sharp pain exploded in his shin, and he let go of the chopsticks. Zuko glared at Azula, confused, but then he realized his father stared at him with his jaw clenched. His chest tightened. What now?

“Are you deaf? I asked what you’re planning to do with your free time next week since you’re suspended?” Ozai asked, the irritation in his voice clear as day.

“I guess I’ll be studying,” Zuko said. He made sure not to make it sound like a question.

Ozai raised his eyebrow. “You guess?”

“I’ll be studying.”

Ozai nodded and continued eating.

Zuko picked up the last piece of his salmon, but before he ate it, he flashed Azula a grateful smile and mouthed, “Thank you.” She smiled, and they tapped their feet together under the table.

Chapter Text

Zuko sat on the couch in the living room, still and straight as a pencil, afraid to even breathe in case it made Ozai mad, and he would send him away. He would rather be anywhere else but today was special—Uncle Iroh had opened his new tea shop, Jasmine Dragon, and Zuko read an article during the day that he broke an attendance record or something and he’s going to be in the evening news. Zuko didn’t want to miss it.

But because Ozai ordered Zuko to put his phone to his office at 5 p. m. every day as punishment for his poor grades and said that spending money on a television for Zuko is a waste, Zuko had to sit in the living room with him, listening to his horrific opinions about the other nations. Since the news started, Ozai insulted the Air Nomad’s clothes, made fun of how poor the Waterbenders in the South were and complained about how the trade with the Earth Kingdom made metal more expensive.

“Stop that!” Zuko blurted out before he could stop himself. His whole body tensed when Ozai glared at him.

“What did you say?” Ozai asked, his voice sharp as a knife.

“I-“

“Did he get fatter? I seriously can’t believe we’re related,” Azula proclaimed loudly. She’s been quiet the whole time, sitting in a corner of the couch with her knees up her chest and reading something she needed for her school project. Or at least that’s what she told Ozai. Zuko would bet she’s texting with Ty Lee—she had her phone and Zuko doubted she would smile so much at anything related to school. Despite her perfect GPA, Azula disliked school almost as much as Zuko.

Zuko’s muscles relaxed when Ozai turned to scowl at the television. “Look at him. He almost doesn’t fit in his own door.” A cruel laugh left his lips and Zuko bit his tongue so hard that he tasted blood.

Zuko flashed Azula a small smile. She winked and returned to her phone.

Zuko focused on the television, Ozai’s voice turning into a background noise he could ignore without a problem. He fought the smile threatening to overtake him when his eyes set on Uncle Iroh’s giant grin as he toured his tea shop with the camera crew, thanking every customer who showed up, naming every tea he offered and taking the praise showed his way with a humble smile.

Zuko wished he could’ve been there. But he still had a curfew, and if he broke it, he would end up on the other side of Ozai’s fists again. And even if he somehow was there for Iroh, Ozai would have seen him in the news and Zuko’s stomach churned when he imagined the punishment.

As soon as Iroh’s segment in the news ended, Zuko excused himself and ran to his room. Grabbing a yellow post-it, he scribbled a thank you on it, promising Azula that he would buy her anything she wanted. He slipped the note under her door on the way to the bathroom.

Later that night, he heard quiet footsteps pausing before his bedroom door for a moment before continuing. Zuko put down his book and went to pick up a red post-it Azula left him. A smiley face sat on top of her loopy handwriting that sometimes gave Zuko headaches.

Deal. Sleep well, dum-dum.

Zuko smiled and put the note into his drawer where he kept all the post-its that he and Azula shared before returning to his book.