A/N: I had this particular idea about Mai attending haiku classes a long time ago. It popped up in my mind again sort or randomly so I said to myself 'Why not?" I think it will consist of 2 chapters probably and it was written for my own enjoyment more than anything else.

Haiku School of the Damned

Part 1: Mother's Little Surprise

Mai dreaded the sound of a knock on her bedroom door. It was her one sanctuary, a place where she could fantasize and dream and throw her various blades without disdainful eyes watching. She could scribble down her thoughts in her diary, read what she wanted and let her hair down. It was Mai's only refuge and she was loathe to ever allow anyone inside.

So when a knock came one nauseatingly bright spring afternoon, and her mother's high pitched, overly cheerful sounding voice wormed its way through the wood of the door, Mai covered her head with one exceptionally plump scarlet pillow in an attempt to drown out the sound. Mai hoped that the woman would simply go away. She didn't.

There was another knock and then another and then threats of breaking the door down and replacing it with a new one, something conveniently lock free.

"Like you could," Mai whispered to herself.

"I'll get your father," the woman warned. "You know how upset he can get when you act this way, Mai. Open the door!"

Heaving a huge sigh, the fourteen year old girl crawled off her bed and sauntered slowly to the ornately carved slab of wood, keen to make her mother wait as long as possible.

"What?" she asked rudely when she finally pulled it open. "I'm busy."

Mai's mother, her name was Akira, barged her way into the bedroom and examined it carefully, looking every bit as though she expected to find something that went against all Fire Nation sense of morality.

"You're not busy. You're never busy. That's your problem. You dream about that hopeless case of a banished prince, you mope, you complain and you do nothing to make yourself available to all the wonderful young men who actually live here in Capitol City."

"I've heard it all before, Mother, and I'm not interested in hearing it again. I'm keeping out of your way and Father's way, just like you've always wanted. I won't say anything untoward at any of your little dinner parties and ruin Father's chances of moving up the ladder. I won't embarrass you or make you feel awkward. Just leave me alone to mope. It makes me happy." Mai frowned.

"No!" Akira crossed her arms under her considerable breasts and stared stubbornly at her daughter.

Mai raised her perfect eyebrows and mulled over her mother's sudden sense of conviction. The woman usually gave up after a minute and glided away again, off to deal with her one year old son's nanny or to consult with the cook about dinner. The young woman was almost flattered and a little bit surprised that her mother was giving her an extra bit of attention. She must be plotting something, something that would somehow benefit the family name or reputation.

"I'm bored, Mother, and I'm tired. I'm going to close the door now." She moved toward the shorter woman almost threateningly but Akira did not and would not back down.

"I've signed you up for something wonderful; haiku class." Mai's mouth opened immediatley, a string of protests ready to fly off her tongue. But Akira raised her hand and narrowed her gold eyes. She actually looked serious and determined, even a bit fierce. Mai hadn't seen her mother like that in forever. "Madam Suzumi is an expert and you are very fortunate to have a spot. All the best girls take her class. When you're finished you'll be able to write lovely haikus. Now, isn't that a great thought?" She didn't wait for Mai's reply. "Class starts tomorrow; and don't tell me that you're too busy or too tired. Ever since you finished the Academy last year, you've done absolutely nothing; that all comes to an end now. I expect to see you dressed in appropriate robes, make sure that you look your best, when you come down to breakfast tomorrow morning. You will leave after that. And I will know if you don't attend. Oh, and you had better not bring any of those terrible knives."

"Are you done now?" Mai crossed her own arms beneath her smaller breasts and rolled her eyes. "I need to paint my nails…black." Mai smirked slyly, expecting an uproar from her mother, but Akira was full of surprises. She let it go.

"Yes, I expect to see you at dinner."

Mai mustered up all the sarcasm she could. "I can't wait."

Her mother's robes had barely cleared the threshold when she slammed the door and turned the lock.

As she brushed out her long black hair the next morning and pinned it up in her signature style, Mai examined herself in the vanity mirror. She had changed a lot in the two years since Prince Zuko had first been banished and she imagined that he had too. He would have more muscle, naturally and be somehow hardened by the difficulties and stresses of his new life. Some would say that Mai was hardened too. She held everyone at arm's length now, not that she had been an overly affectionate, mushy sort of person before.

But when Zuko left so did the little bit of emotion she did reveal, the glimpses into her true self and that vulnerability she was willing to let the prince see. She was all closed up now, closed up tightly, only sarcasm and cynicism and the occasional biting remark allowed out where anyone could see them. That was how Mai survived her loneliness and her despair and her never ending boredom.

She stood up, still in just her wraps, and examined her body. Her breasts would never be like her friend, Ty Lee's, who at thirteen had boys drooling over her constantly. But they were a nice size, and her figure, though lean and well toned, had acquired new curves over the past few months. She couldn't help wondering if Zuko would appreciate them or even notice. He was so easily flustered around girls. It was an endearing quality and certainly beat the lecherousness of some boys hands down, but honestly, he could be so clueless.

She giggled quietly and strapped on two blades, one on her ankle and one on her upper arm. Mai didn't care what her mother said or what Madam Suzumi's rules were; she always had at least two blades on her body. And while she slept, there were always blades within easy reach. It was simply the way she did things and nobody could make her change.

Opening her wardrobe, Mai selected simple black pants, a white shirt and a burgundy tunic. After another quick look in her mirror, she left her room and headed downstairs to the dining room. Her mother and father were already there but instead of a 'Good morning' they both gave her irritated scowls.

"You're late. Don't blame me if your food is cold." Akira sniffed as though she were actually hurt by Mai's tardiness and went back to her fruit and tea.

Mai's father, Hoshi, shook his head and his scowl entrenched itself even more firmly on his face. "Mai, you know better than to arrive late for breakfast. It upsets your mother."

"But I wanted to look my best for my first haiku class. I guess that time got away from me." Her tone was sugar sweet and simpering.

Akira jerked her head up and gave Mai a dark look. "We all know that's not true, though I wish it was. Now sit down and eat. Class starts in less than an hour."

Mai sat and Mai ate and said not another word. She watched her parents through her thick eyelashes, how they ate with their impeccable table manners and talked about mundane things like table settings or the state of the back garden. It was when they spoke of their son, Tom-Tom, that their faces lit up, genuine happiness evident. Mai was certain neither had ever had that look when speaking of her, even when she was a baby.

"Tom-Tom actually said 'Momma' this morning when I checked in on him. Can you believe it; his first word already? He's such a smart boy." Akira took a sip of her tea and gazed about her perfect dining room with a pleased expression.

Hoshi reached across the table and touched his wife's hand briefly. "Hmm, that's wonderful, Akira. I'm certain that the boy will do us proud."

"I'm surprised he didn't say 'nanny'," Mai remarked in a low tone.

Hoshi heard, however, and shot his daughter a look that made her suck in her breath. "It's time for you to leave, Mai. I expect that you'll behave like a young noblewoman should while at class. Do not tarnish our family name in any way. Do you understand?"

Rather than answer, Mai stood up from her chair, dropped her napkin on the table and strode to the front door. She shut it with a resounding bang and made her way to class.

Ten girls, different faces, but Mai could hardly tell them apart. They all wore the finest silk robes in the same colour and the same cut. Their hair, in its varying shades of brown, was worn the same way; partially pulled into a top knot with scarlet ribbon, the remainder falling across their shoulders and down their perfectly straight and rigid backs. All had their fingernails painted blood red, and a touch of red paint gave each of their mouths a slightly garish appearance. Tiny, delicate gold studs decorated each pair of ears and tiny silk bags dangled from each right wrist.

"Figures I'm number eleven," Mai muttered as she took her seat at the back of the room. "Mother must have paid extra to have me put in this class."

It was obvious to anyone with sight that the eleventh desk and the eleventh cushion had been squeezed into the simply decorated classroom at Madam Suzumi's School for Fine Ladies.

An older man shuffled to the front of the room and called for order. Mai fiddled with her calligraphy brush, not bothering to look up. He spoke in dramatic tones as if an actor in the theatre. "My name is Kenji Tanaka and I am honoured to present to you fine young ladies your instructor, Madam Suzumi." The old man stretched his arm out and the lady in question appeared from behind a beautifully painted screen.

Mai watched all this with arched eyebrows and slightly open mouth. "For Agni's sake," she said quietly. "What a load of bull."

The girl nearest to Mai turned her head, flicked brown eyes over her condescendingly and then shushed her. Mai thrust her chin out and gave the girl the nastiest stare she could manage. Meanwhile, Madame Suzumi bowed, dismissed the random old man and began her first class with a brand new set of cloned students.

"Haiku," the pretty woman in her thirties began and then said nothing, letting the word hang over the room as if it were something profound.

Mai fought desperately to contain the snort of laughter that moved its purposeful way up her throat. All she could do was fake a cough instead. Madame Suzumi ignored it, remaining cool and composed like a good noblewoman should. The other ten girls waited eagerly for their instructor to speak again.

"Three lines, seventeen syllables; when described like that, haiku sounds clinical, ordinary. But, young ladies, those three lines can convey a surprising depth of emotion. They can pinpoint the beauty of something we see everyday like the sea or a flower and boil it down to its most basic elements. There is no excess in haiku. It says only what is needed." The teacher paused again, catching her breath and gathering her thoughts. "In fact, all of you would do well to emulate this form of poetry; say only what is necessary. Don't burden your future husbands with more than that. They will have things of greater importance on their minds."

'Since when did this become a class about wifery, noblewoman style,' Mai mused, looking out the side window rather than at her instructor. 'Mother must have known about that crap too.'

Madam Suzumi noticed Mai's lack of attention and was not pleased. "You, black haired girl staring out the window, I want your eyes on me." She moved forward a bit, closer to Mai and then tapped her foot on the floor.

Mai took her time about it, instantly cementing her position as worst student, any poetic abilities she might have notwithstanding. "Better?" she asked dully.

"You must be Mai. Your mother warned me that you might be surly and uncooperative. I guess she wasn't kidding."

"My mother never kids," Mai remarked with a pronounced eye roll. With that one sentence, she summed up Akira.

Madam Suzumi took another step forward and the remainder of the girls stared at Mai with cold, glittering eyes that looked like marbles. "Yes, well, I expect your full cooperation. Do you understand, Mai?"

Centered out, slightly embarrassed, Mai could feel the heat rising to her cheeks. "Yeah, I understand."

"Good," the woman stated brightly. "That's that. Let's get back to our lesson."

After reciting dozens of the Fire Nation's best and most famous haikus, Madam Suzumi explained how the rest of the day and the rest of the week would go. "Each day will have a theme. And each night you will be required to compose the very best haiku that you are able to; you can write about whatever you like. I'll know if you rushed or didn't put any care into your work. I have been doing this for awhile now."

A plain looking girl at the front of the class raised her hand. Suzumi nodded, giving the girl permission to speak. "What will today's theme be?" she asked eagerly.

"Suck up," Mai muttered under her breath.

"Today's theme is the sun. We all know how important it is to everyone, especially a nation of firebenders. Think about what it means to you, any memories you may have, any beautiful sites you may have seen. Smooth out your paper, open your ink pots and begin."

Mai tapped the end of the brush against her chin and observed the other girls, their brains practically smoking under the strain of all that thinking. A lover of the dark herself, and not a firebender, Mai was not particularly inspired.

Madam Suzumi walked amongst the girls, her hands behind her back, robes gliding across the smooth, polished floors. Her full lips were pulled into a tolerant little smile and her brown eyes scanned the papers, searching for greatness perhaps or just something that wouldn't make her sick.

Dipping her brush into the beautiful blackness of the ink, Mai began. She scribbled out two attempts before finally coming up with something that followed the haiku rules and fit the theme. It was far from cheery and Mai definitely did not care.

Clapping her hands together briskly, Madam Suzumi signaled the end of the writing period. The girls put their brushes down dutifully and waited for further instruction.

"You have fifteen minutes to stretch your legs and let the ink dry. Then you will come back inside and read your poems aloud to the class."

Mai froze.

The girls all seemed to know each other and huddled together in giddy groups chattering about young men they thought were handsome or eligible, the latest fashions and any juicy gossip that was going around.

Mai recognized a few of the faces, though it was difficult to tell them apart, but kept to herself. Leaning against the wall of the shaded building, she reached up her wide sleeve for her blade and pulled it out furtively. Just holding it in her hand made her feel so much better. A smile played with the corners of her thin lips and suddenly the day wasn't quite so depressing.

"I don't think Madam Suzumi would approve," one of the girls huffed as she approached Mai with caution.

Mai shrugged and slipped the blade back into place with speed and efficiency. It was as if the knife had never been in her hand. "I don't know what you're talking about." She stood up straight and walked back inside, sitting at the eleventh table, the odd girl out yet again.

"All right, come to order," Madam Suzumi admonished after the rest of the class had filed in. Mai smirked. Everyone was sitting quietly. If they were any more orderly it would be frightening. "Would one of you like to go first?"

The girls looked about shiftily but in every group, no matter where and no matter what, there was inevitably one person keen to be noticed and eager to volunteer. A short girl, who looked more like eleven than fourteen, nodded and raised her hand.

"Excellent; Misa, go ahead and read your haiku."

Clearing her throat, Misa stood, glanced about the room and began in a clear, melodious sort of voice.

It is so pretty

Hanging in the sky like gold

Shining brightly down

She cleared her throat again and kneeled on her cushion, awaiting judgment like some criminal at court.

"Well done, Misa, well done. You managed to convey what the sun looks like and what it does in the required amount of syllables."

Misa looked about at her competitors smugly then, clearly thrilled at teacher's approval. Mai sat through reading after reading , not raising her hand, figuring she may as well go last since she was an add on to the class anyway.

"I'm hardly surprised that your poem is our final one, Mai. Please stand up and recite your work."

It was the last thing that Mai wanted to do but really, what difference did it make? She didn't care what these perfect girls thought about her or her poem. She didn't care a thing about them and Mai was certain that the feeling was mutual. She began in an uninspired voice, lending no emotion to her words.

Too bright, makes me squint

I prefer its opposite

Or at least the clouds

Each and every one of the girls stared at her with open curiosity, even pity. Mai met each set of eyes head on, her gaze not wavering once.

"Well, um, that was not quite the celebration of the sun I had in mind, but you did meet the syllable requirements, so there's that. Really, Mai, try looking at the world through more cheerful lenses; you might be surprised by how good it makes you feel." Condescension dripped off the woman's tongue.

"I don't do cheerful," Mai stated matter of factly.

Madam Suzumi shook her head and turned her attention back to the rest of the girls. "Class is dismissed. Remember your assignment for tomorrow. Write one haiku, the very best one that you can, about something that you find beautiful, or something that inspires you. I'll see you back here in the morning. Well done, girls."

Her smile did not favor Mai.

Once out of the classroom and walking home alone through the streets of Capitol City, Mai could breathe much more freely. And what surprised her most was the anticipation she felt. There was someone and there was something she wanted to write about. Haiku did have a purpose after all.