It was one of those hot summer nights, the enchanting kind. The kind where the fireflies skimmed the spring water, lighting up and casting a dazzling reflection on the steamy water. Azula draped her arms atop the spring's rocky wall and watched the steam as it trailed up towards the stars, dissipating before it even had a chance to float to the roof of the bathhouse.

Azula gently massaged her arms and legs with her bar of soap before turning her attention back to the sky. In the hot springs actually bathing became something of an afterthought to her. A side project, even though the whole point was to get cleaned up.

In recent weeks she had taken to going to the public bathhouses as opposed to the one in her own palace. Growing tired of arguing with Zuko over who got to use it first—a fight that had most recently ended with Zuko being too stubborn to leave, Azula being too determined to have the first bath, and both of them awkwardly trying not to look at the other as they washed—had played a huge role. But aside from that the change of scenery had been refreshing; night after night she'd visit a different one. Each one brought with it different kinds of people with different kinds of stories. Azula herself had become a sort of spectacle at the Hi Tokage bathhouse; people there seemed to gossip less about themselves and inquiry more about her. And for some reason she felt obligated to answer, perhaps it was because she felt it wrong to only listen in and never share. At her most self-honest point she had admitted inwardly that it was rather nice to have people who wanted to listen to her talk about life in the palace.

Ōkina Hasu was another lovely spring. It was the smallest and it was family run and it wasn't very well known. But the little lotus flowers bobbing on the surface of the water and the candles lining the outside made it the most relaxing. Most of the customers here were women in their 20's to 40's and their children, with an occasional teenage couple every now and again. A sharp contrast to the diversity at Hi Tokage and the popular Kazan Kōkyō Haru. It was at this spring that Azula heard tales about motherhood and some rather interesting fruit pie recipes.

The Ōke Tora spring was like Ōkina Hasu but with a more male population—mostly young fathers. But as with Ōkina Hasu an occasional woman would drop in every now and again. Ōke Tora was the hottest of the hot springs she'd been in and apparently became the most popular in the winter time. This was the hot spring where Azula could have sworn she'd seen a familiar face or two.

But Yōsei no Denshō had become her favorite bathhouse. Azula supposed she seemed rather out of place there. And that the people who saw her leave it probably thought her strange seeing as Yōsei no Denshō was filled mostly with elderly men and women and one other girl of Azula's own age. But the people there had the best tales. The most enchanting tales. Tales of old lore and magic, of the dragons that used to dwell across the Fire Nation and dragon charmers and of ancient Fire Lords and spirits. Tales that Azula couldn't even find in the royal library…the kind that were lost aside from word of the mouth.

Some part of her, her inner child enjoyed imagining herself as one of the characters in these tales. For the most part she let herself blend into the background with the cherry blossom trees but there had been occasions when she had been enticed enough to step forward and request another story. SeiKuen's way of storytelling had that effect on people.

The old woman was a servant at her palace when Sozin was around, who claimed that it was the spirits who had helped her live this long and this well. Azula had come to find that SeiKuen was the owner of Yōsei no Denshō and that the girl her age was SeiKuen's great granddaughter daughter. This stuck in her mind because SeiKuen was the first person to vocalize the oddity that was Azula's presence; "we don't get many regulars your age around here." SeiKuen had shook her head and gave a warm laugh, "just you and that Water Tribe boy."

And for the first time she noticed Sokka. Sitting in the corner just as quietly as she had. It was strange to see him so silent and serious. So deep in thought.

"That boy has some wild tales of his own." SeiKuen had stated with a warm crooked-toothed smile. "He tells them to me from time to time. I think I'd like to hear one of yours one day."

Azula recalled nodding her head but then adding with a foreign humbleness, "mine aren't nearly as compelling or enchanting as yours are though."

SeiKuen had given her another chuckle, "nonsense, every tale is worth sharing."

For a while Azula had been reluctant to offer a story to the elderly woman. But after a few nights of listening to Sei's stories, the princess found herself feeling weirdly guilty and recounted a story or two of what it had been like far beneath the walls of Ba Sing Se, surrounded by melon green crystals.

Sei cheerfully etched Azula's story into one of the rocks—the one she had seen Azula lean on the most—and chattered on about what a lovely story it was and how she was so glad she had the chance to hear it. The princess could swear she had captured Sokka's attention as well. But her focus was drawn away from him when SeiKuen began spinning a tale about a young farmer who had found a golden dragon claw. This was, apparently, Sei's most precious story—one that she only told on special occasions.

It was a tale Azula wouldn't soon forget. One that she never wanted to forget. Upon getting home she spent several hours putting it on paper alongside some of her other favorites, with every intention of asking SeiKuen to look it over.

The night after Azula had stopped by the Yōsei no Denshō to find it closed. It remained closed for nearly a week, forcing her to spend more time at Hi Tokage, Kazan Kōkyō Haru and check out the newly established Opāru Suiiki. None of which had the same charm as Yōsei no Denshō. Finally, just when Azula's eagerness was about to explode, Yōsei no Denshō re-opened. Though she couldn't seem to find SeiKuen anywhere.

Azula allowed a few more days to pass before she swam over to Sokka and asked him if he had heard anything. He knew just as little as she did. Finally, on a day during the last month of the summer solstice, news had come that SeiKuen had been carried carefully away by spirits on the sweet summer breeze. That night every candle at the spring was lit and every corner carried the sweet smell of incense. Azula found herself standing next to Sokka among the same elderly crowd as SeiKuen's great granddaughter—Azula had come to know as Miyoko delivered some parting words and shed some tears.

"She really liked you two." The girl had said as the crowd dispersed. "She was thrilled that she got to hear a story from you before her departure. She said that it would keep her company on her next journey."

Azula was never one for tears or grief. But then again, until that summer she had never been one for folktales and public bathhouses either. Of course she wasn't crying nearly as freely as Miyoko, who had slipped away to join her mother. But it was enough to draw the attention of Sokka.

"I'm gonna miss her too." He had confessed, wiping away a tear or two of his own. "She reminded me of Gran Gran." By the end of the night he had his arms around her and they were seeing who could count the most stars before Yōsei no Denshō locked up for the night. By which time both had long since lost count and opted to guess which star represented Sei.

On other nights the pair would exchange stories and kisses as the water bubbled around them and the steam twirled about. Naturally they'd earn a few sneers from the more conservative of the elders. It was definitely one hell of a summer fling...

In the soft glow of the lantern and with the soothing sound of the churning spring, Azula found herself thinking about all these things as the most fascinating summer of her life came to a close.