A/N: Hey folks! A friend challenged me to write angst, so here I am, with my attempt at a one-shot of Azula-angst. Azula may be mentally unstable and a little bit sad, but she's pretty amazing. It was written more than a year ago and I've tried to edit it several times, but apparently i cannot angst. Oh well.

(edited: 26/09/2017)

Inspired by Combustion Countdown by snappleducated. If you haven't yet, read that fic. It's really good!

Disclaimer: ATLA ain't mine.

She stared into a mirror. Dark, hooded eyes stared back at her from a petite face of smooth, creamy complexion. The girl had full red lips, a stark contrast from her pale skin, and black hair framed her face. A beauty, most would say.

Tilting her head, she scrutinised her reflection from different angles. They said her smile was the sweetest thing there can be, a coy upward tilt of the lips.

She smiled.

Her reflection morphed. Lips twisted into a mocking parody of a grin, eyes narrowed and burning with condescension. The girl smirked, sharp and cutting, the edge of her teeth glinting like daggers hidden in velvet.

A monster. She saw a monster.

In a fit of rage, Azula slammed her fist into the mirror. Her reflection shattered, tiny rivulets of red trickling down the broken surface. Her fist throbbed painfully as she turned away, the shards of the broken mirror crunching under her shoes.

She never liked mirrors anyway.

"Monster."

Just a tiny whisper, barely audible. But she had heard it nonetheless.

What kind of Mother calls her own child a monster? The worst thing was, Mother was probably right.

Her heart ached, ached and screamed and burnt, burnt like the flower in her palm. It burnt and burnt, until there was nothing left to burn.

The ashes were cold, her heart numb. There was no fire - no anger, no hatred, for how could there be fire when there was nothing left to burn? No, she was cold, cold with resignation and disappointment. The walls had been ripped down and she was forced to face the truth that she didn't want to see.

Because she had hoped, had hoped, that at least, her mother would love her unconditionally. Like how she loved Zuko, for all his flaws. But she was wrong, and the truth was something she had known all along, and wasn't that what hurt the most?

She should have known - but she had chosen to trust, chose to believe, only to be left with a bitter aftertaste of ashes on her tongue.

What a painful, horrid thing hope was.

She was such a fool.

The remains of the flower slipped through her fingers. Love? She doesn't need her mother's love. She never did, anyway.

Ty Lee and Mai were waiting for her in her room, the former doing a handstand and the latter with a bored expression. Ty lee smiled (how can she looked so genuine?) and bounded over to her. "Azula! You were gone for a few hours, where were you? I missed you!"

Lies. All lies. She could see it, the fear in their eyes, the loathing lurking behind, their desire to flee —

No matter. She would make them stay. Fear was such a useful emotion; it get things done quickly, and it makes people stay. Who needs respect and love, when fear was the mind-controller?

Ty Lee took in her bandaged hand, her crooked smile. Her expression grew concerned. "Azula? Are you okay?"

She brushed past her. Don't let yourself be fooled again, Azula. Trust and love? You know how well that went for you.

"A stupid servant knocked down a bowl. I tried to catch it, but it shattered in my hands instead. The servant has been punished for such sloppiness. It's nothing," she said dismissively, a carefully constructed confident smirk already in place. Poison dripped from her every word like honey-coated belladonna.

"Are you sure? You're rarely careless," Mai commented. Her expression had just the perfect amount of concern in it. A lesser person would have believed that smile, but Azura had promised herself never to be played a fool again. Mai was very much a perfect diplomat - always politically correct, collected, unreadable. Cool nonchalance was her favourite facade, but she displayed finesse in wearing others when it suited her cause.

It was tricky, like dancing with a snake. But if Mai was as adder, then Azula was a cobra.

"We're your friends, right? You can tell us anything," Ty Lee said anxiously, peering at her through her bangs. Mai nodded. There was a… warm feeling that stirred like kindling embers, but she hastily extinguished it before it became dangerous.

Friends. What a foolish concept. What a novelty. Friends... were they her friends? She likened them as allies. Pawns to be used at her whims, discarded when they were rendered useless. Father himself told her that before, so it must be right, even though she thought friends had a nicer ring than allies.

Azula smiled sweetly at them. "Of course, Ty Lee. I'm fine, really," she said. "Rest early today; we have a long day tomorrow." She dismissed them, unable to stand their fake worried expressions and forced concern.

Friends sounded nice, though.

She was seven when she overheard the conversation between Fire Lord Azulon and her father.

Zuzu's in danger, she thought frantically. I should warn him.

Why? The darker part of her, the one that burns turtleducks while laughing, asked. Why not let him die? He's useless. He's a burden. Father favours you. And he won't believe you; he never does.

He's my brother, she argued back, and he will listen to me. That part retreated, for now.

"Father's going to kill you," she told her brother, a small smile on her face. She couldn't help the smile; she had to treat everything as a game, had to, or else she would break. Caring was a weakness to be used against you. It was funny how Zuko never truly learnt this. She herself understood this early and had vowed to stamp out any signs of weaknesses. Compassion and fear were but weaknesses to rid herself of. Unlike her weak, dependent brother, she had no one to protect her. She needed no one to.

Zuko's eyes widened and he shook his head vehemently. "Impossible," he said. Then, in a softer whisper not meant for her to hear, "Azula always lies."

She hid her wince, and her heart gave a small squeeze. See? Her mind whispered, he wouldn't believe you.

Before she could reply, Mother swept in, gripping her shoulders tightly and pulling her away. She interrogated her, going so far as to shake her by her shoulders. Her face was filled with worry - worry for Zuko. Not her, never her. Why would anyone worry about her? She was the perfect, independent daughter who could take care of herself. She was not some weak, snivelling brat that required her mother's protection. She was strong. She was…

"Tell me," her mother's grip tightened, painful, almost hard enough to leave marks. Almost.

She hesitated, doubt flickering in her mind. Should she tell Mother?

Mother would do anything for Zuzu, she rationalised, anything to protect him. If Mother gets rid of Grandfather, then… Then Father will be next in line, and that is his dream. Mother never loved her, but Father did, so she should help Father! And he would love her even more, and when he's the Fire Lord…

I'll be the Crown Princess. I'll be the Crown Princess since I'm Father's darling girl, and I'll be — I'll be—

She paused, the hope once again too painful, too raw. Pushing that aside, she focused on the most logical conclusion she came up with: Mother is Father's chance to be the Fire Lord.

She knew what to say to push just the right buttons, how to act to be convincing, allowing herself to show enough uncertainty and fear for this little show.

Mother left in a hurry after that, and Azula had a feeling she would never see her again. But she was strong, and it was better this way. Mother's goal of keeping Zuko safe would come true, her own dreams would come true, everyone would be happy, and she would — she would be loved.

(She was strong, she had to be. Who else would be there for her, if even her own mother isn't?)

When she learnt that Zuko was a traitor, she —

She felt resentful.

He assisted the Avatar; he turned his back against the Fire Lord, against the the Fire Nation — He turned his back against me. He left me.

She really should not have been surprised. It was almost expected for Zuzu to betray her, just like his mother. Was this not what she wanted all along as well? Now that Zuko was gone (the-useless-prince-the-weak-prince-but-he-was-still-my-br—), she was the Crown Princess. The true heir of Fire Lord Ozai. The future Fire Lord.

Her Nation would adore her. She would make sure of it.

Her heart felt a little empty, felt a little heavy, but she chalked it up to disappointment that there was one less person to bully now.

No matter. The next time she saw him, she would kill him. No mercy. That was what he deserved, that was what traitors deserved.

But he's my brother.

Shut up, she told herself. Compassion, after all, was a sign of weakness.

She could not afford to be weak.

Her mother no longer tucked her to bed. She would still visit her darling Zuko, but after the Flower Incident, never came to Azula's room again. Never.

She knew. She used to press her ear against the wall, hearing Mother whisper to Zuzu and singing soft lullabies in the room right next to hers. She used to wait for those to subside, and then slide under her covers, waiting (excitedly) for Mother to come to her room next.

Mother never did.

Azula told herself she didn't care, that she was already grown up and didn't want to be tucked in anyway.

But her room felt so, so cold.

Azula stared at Mai in shock.

"How could you?" She screamed. Mai was poised, ready to attack. Ready to attack her. For Zuko, the traitor. How could she?

"I'm sorry, Azula. I can't ignore it anymore. This war, everything - it's madness!" she shouted. Where did that bored diplomat went to? "I'm taking a side now. And you can't make me hurt Zuko, either. Not anymore," Mai continued, grip on her daggers tightening. Her eyes burnt with determination - the true Mai, no longer one hiding behind a mask. The one Azula never knew, the side Mai hid from her. Both of them knew that had the princess caught side of it, it would have been brutally trampled on until Mai was anything but herself.

What about me? She wanted to screamed. What about me? Was I not... your friend? Was everything you once said a lie? Do you not care about me?

In a quieter voice, a single underlining thought whispered at the back of her mind: Everyone is leaving, everyoneveryoneveryone —

Mai barely flinched, even when Azura snarled, lightning beginning to spark at her fingertips. Where had that obedient, fearful ally gone to? What did Zuko do to deserve this? Where had she gone wrong? This was madness. This was someone she did not understand, could not predict. The greatest fire-bender of her time - what did she do wrong to deserve this?

What did he do to deserve this? What did he do, that I did not, for you to protect him? I fed you — I gave you a goal — you would have succeeded, became famous, with me. Why?

It did not matter, for she was ending Mai now. She would not stand another traitor getting away. Seething, lightning crackled as she aimed at Mai. She took a deep breath —

When a pink blur shot forward and stopped her.

A shiver of shock ran down her spine, as though the water-bending peasant had dumped ice down her back.

Not Ty Lee too —

But it was, it was Ty Lee and Mai, her self-proclaimed friends, turning their backs onto her. She thought friends stood by each other. She thought they would never betray her. They said she was their friend. She had believed them — fool, not again — and then they had…

They had lied.

"I'm sorry I can't stand by your side anymore, Azula," Ty Lee said, "but I can't let you hurt Mai too." Everyone was willing to leave instead? Everyone wanted to hurt her instead? She felt confusion, shock, and a myriad of other emotions she dared not name yet made her ache.

Why was everyone leaving? She hated this. Her emotions were twisting and convulsing as she tried to banish it all, banish and squash and kill the awful pain.

She tore at the hurt, until all that remained was bitter rage. It was a numbing calm that nestled deep in her mind, cold and indifferent and ruthless like lightning. So be it, Her mind sneered. I'll just have to hurt you first.

However, in the end, her friends (not-friends-i-don't-have-friends-they-left-me-they-were-allies) escaped her wrath.

I told you so, the dark side of her mind whispered. You're better off without them. Friendship is an illusion. She's independent. Powerful. Strong. She's not lonely, she told herself. Not really.

In the dark, her heart cried.

She knew she was not perfect. She knew her jealousy was a demon inside her, gnawing and gnawing and always pressing her to be the best among the best. To make Father proud, because if she was not the best, she was not good enough.

She knew she should not push Ty Lee onto the ground after her friend managed to perform a cartwheel when she failed to, but the Jealousy was raging and her friend really should know better than to best the Royal Princess.

She knew she should not have placed an apple on top of Mai's apple and set it on fire just to see Zuko push her into the pond, but that was for fun! It was humorous, all in good fun, and wasn't she helping Mai by getting Zuko closer to her?

Everyone has flaws, so why couldn't people accept hers when they could accept others? Why couldn't anyone accept her?

On her Coronation Day, she was alone.

Fingers trembling, she tried to style her hair into a topknot for the occasion, but it came out a jumbled mess. A snarl on her lips, she slammed her brush onto the table, her breaths coming out in short pants. The room was so, so cold, devoid of life and people and warmth. She was a fire-bender and yet she was cold. Lightning was desolate, and blue fire may burn hot yet it is still not enough.

She had forgotten how to bend orange flames.

She stared into a mirror, just like the one she had a long time ago. In another age, Ty Lee and Mai were still by her side. In another age, she was a princess who had everything. Now, she was the Fire Lord with nothing. Dark, wild eyes stared back at her, from a gaunt face of smooth, sickly pale complexion. Her eye-bags were dark bruises imprinted on her pale skin, and her full red lips were stretched thin. One side of her fringe fell limply on her forehead.

She looked crazy. A monster. How fitting.

Hysterical giggles bubbled up from within her at the sight of herself. She grabbed a scissors, giggling as strands of hair fell around her while she hacked and hacked at her fringe.

"An improvement," she said, and giggled once again, covering half her face with one hand. Wasn't this her dream? When did her life spin so out of control? When did she become like… like this? It's madness, Mai's voice whispered. Shut up, she told it.

She glanced at the mirror once more, and froze. Her heart faltered, and the scissors clattered onto the floor. Behind her reflection stood Mother, wearing the beautiful dress she had last seen her in.

"You always had such beautiful hair," Mother murmured, gently stroking her hair. She jerked away, a sneer on her face.

"Why are you here?" she spat out, her fingers clenched tightly into a fist.

She could not fathom why Mother looked both impossibly sad and imperceptibly proud at the same time. "Oh, Azula. I would not miss my daughter's coronation."

It would have been a cruel stab to her heart, but her heart was almost dead and she felt nothing, nothing at all. She laughed brokenly. "Don't act proud, Mother," she said in a taunting, sing-song voice, a shadow of her past self. "We both know that you thought I was a monster."

And weren't you right, the demons of her past whispered.

"That's not true," Hallucination-Mother protested. "You'e just confused, Azula." Mother tried to reach for her, but stopped when she flinched. Her smile grew sad. "I love you, Azula. I really do."

Her heart twisted, impossibly pain, and she could not stand it anymore, could not stand seeing her dead mother it's impossible it's impossible Mother doesn't love me she never did Mai was right it's really madness I'm truly going m—

She flung her hairbrush at the mirror. It shattered, Mother's reflection disappearing along with the falling shards.

The room was cold and empty, like it had always been. Azula covered her face as she shook with broken, wretched sobs.

Her fire bending was better than Zuko's. Her fire was blue; the first of its kind.

During their training, when Zuko finally managed to create a ball of flames, her mother beamed at Zuko, congratulated him, hugged him. She scoffed; she could do that a year ago.

She displayed her blue fire, and went on to beat her trainer mercilessly, just the way Father would have liked it. Hopefully, she glanced sideways at Mother. Did she do well? Was Mother impressed? She was one of the best fire-benders of her age (maybe even among all the children), was Mother proud of her? Was…

Mother's expression was one of unease and wariness. One arm wrapped tightly around Zuko's shoulders, she swiftly left the courtyard with Zuko.

She told herself she wasn't Mummy's Boy, that her praise meant nothing to her. That Father's approval was worth much more.

Mother's hugs used to be so warm though.

Zuko launched himself in front of the peasant water-bender, and Azula's lightning struck him instead.

For the first time in months, her mind was blank. The raging screams in her mind silenced, with only a single thought running through her mind: He never would have done that for me.

No one would have sacrificed themselves for her. No one.

And she finally broke.

End.

Hope you guys like it! Comments will be appreciated :)

-littlesparrowkeet