It'd been about a month since Zuko bought his sister home. The girl didn't talk very much along the way to the palace and she continued to hold the silence when she got there. She seemed to be at a sort of disconnect.

Even when she was present for lunch or dinner or just a casual get together she was quiet and out of place. Like a ghost in the room, everyone knew she was there, but no one attempted to make contact with the psychological disaster that was Azula.

To be fair to them, Azula herself didn't really put in any effort either.

Eventually, the princess seemed to fade into the background. She'd taken to spending most of her time in her room.

Zuko hadn't seen her at dinner in weeks. He did however hear her walk down the hall at pretty odd hours, likely this was when she was getting her food. When she knew no one would be there to gawk at or scorn her…or just generally make her feel awkward and out of place.

She already knew she was.

And she wanted to get better, she really did.

But aside from Zuko no one wanted her around.

So she'd grab her snack and retreat back to her room. She had no tears to cry—she'd already used them all up. And besides she was getting used to it anyways…

Being alone.

Being unwanted.

And maybe even a little afraid.

Azula propped herself against the bed post, legs drawn up to her body. She was warm…she kept herself warm. If she didn't do it who else would? And she stared at the wall, on occasions one her companions—the voices, her psychologist called them—would stare back. They've been somber and silently lately. But that was okay, Azula herself wasn't in the mood for a conversation. The voices were nice enough but she had made it a goal not to talk to them—at the very least not in public—after she learned to distinguish the real from the fake.

Honestly, she almost wanted to talk to the hallucination standing before her, she hadn't talked to anyone for a long time. But it was somehow more comforting of him to just sit next to her, one arm over her shoulder, and just say nothing.

And when her mind was done with the illusions she put her head to the pillow. A month in and she was still getting used to being back in her own bed…still soaking in every moment of that comfy silk bedspread as if it was her last night sleeping there.

She had this sort of new appreciation for everything she used to take for granted; from her bed to her golden hairbrush—that is when she found it in herself to actually tidy her hair up.

One could say that it was progress.

But no one could ever tell her good job nor encourage her to keep up the progress as no one really seemed to notice and she clearly had no plans to vocalize it.

Three days had open and closed. This new day was one of the rare days when Azula would in fact take the brush to her hair—which was always a pain working through weeks of tangles. She still hadn't gotten the hang of tying it in an up do so she just left it loose.

It was still early, something she was always thankful for, no one was awake yet so she could get her breakfast in peace.

Some time ago Zuko…or one of the palace staff had caught onto her new eating schedule so there was always a little something waiting for her on the table.

Azula had taken to assuming it was Zuko's doing as the food was sometimes under cooked and the tea a bit too hot.

Today her breakfast came with a little note. In dark bold…but at the same time elegant handwriting the message read 'happy birthday Azula.'

She had forgotten about that.

She hadn't celebrated it in years. She hadn't been feeling as if her birth was worth celebrating.

And suddenly she found herself able to cry. She blinked once, sniffed, and furiously brushed the tears that had managed to escape away.

Zuko stood in the doorway wondering if he should walk away, pretending like he saw nothing or if he should see if she was open to conversation today.

Of course he should try to talk to her.

She heard him approach. Felt his hand on her shoulder…gentle and reassuring.

"Morning, how are you feeling?" He tried.

Azula considered returning the greeting…but she'd have nothing to follow it up with. After a moment of mulling it over she whispered "I'm…fine."

Zuko pulled a chair over and sat down next to her. With his thumb he wiped away another one of Azula's tears.

A sudden fury worked its way over her. At first she couldn't place the reason. And then she found that it spurned from her inability to hide her tears. Why was she having so much trouble hiding what she was feeling like she used to? Why couldn't she fight and bend with the strength and power she used to do? Why couldn't she do anything as she had done before?

She clenched her teeth—as it would seem she had stopped the tears this time.

Zuko had said something but she hadn't been paying attention. He squeezed her hand—she also hadn't realized he was holding it in the first place

"What's on your mind Azula?" He repeated.

Taking care not to answer to abruptly she replied, "nothing, Zu-Zu."

"I'm glad I ran into you." He pressed on. "I was hoping we could go somewhere for your birthday. The Ember Island Players are putting on a show tonight, if we take the airships we could make it on time."

"I don't feel going all the way to Ember Island." Azula replied and took a first bite of her breakfast. It had grown cold in the midst of their conversation.

"At least let me take you to a nice restaurant…or something." Zuko insisted. "I want you to have a nice day."

"Why?"

"Because it's your birthday and you're my little sister." Zuko responded. "And I don't like seeing you so…downcast all the time."

This time Azula had no words to offer him, so she fixed her gaze back at the table and pretended to be interested in her food.

"Even if we don't go anywhere, I want you to have a good day. Perhaps I can tell the servants to get a bath ready for you…you haven't had a royal spa treatment in a long time. Please, just let me help you." Zuko begged.

He begged.

Azula smiled, she wasn't even doing anything and she could still having pleading with her.

"Is that a yes?"

"No." Her smile didn't fade, how betraying.

He ruffled her hair—withdrawing his hand before she could bat it away. "I'll tell them to have it ready for you."

Zuko was surprisingly more tolerable than Azula remembered. She held a flame beneath her plate, she may have lost it, but she was still above eating cold food.

When Zuko returned to the table he had a small box in his hands. "I found it when traveling with Aang, I thought it looked like something you'd like. It kind of reminded me of you."

"Thanks Zu-Zu, I always loved boxes." She took it from his hands.

"Not the box, the thing inside the box." Zuko sat back down.

"If it's an institution pamphlet, I'm going to do unspeakable things to you."

"Wonderful to have you talking again." Zuko laughed as Azula tugged at the ribbon.

She dumped the contents of the box into her palm. It was a small stone. A pretty and frightening thing. Bright blue in color and resembling that of a dragon's eye. Azula ran her finger over its smooth sparkly surface. She'd heard about these dragon eye gems. They were supposed to have spirit properties of some sort.

"Don't I get a thank you?"

"It's my birthday, presents are a standard, I don't have to thank you." Azula toyed with the stone. "I would say that my presence in the room is a thank you enough."

"Of course it is." His hand was back on her shoulder—he was getting all touchy feely again—and he sounded like he meant it.

She wouldn't call him on his dramaticness…this time.

After all, it is a special day. It was her birthday. And the first day since the comet that Azula felt like Azula.

"You sure you don't want to go out for dinner?"

"Fine Zu-Zu, I'm picking the place."

"Good, because I already told Mai, Ty-Lee, and the others that we were taking you somewhere special tonight."

"Of course you did." Azula rolled her eyes.

"Welcome back Azula. It wasn't the same without you."

Azula gave him her smuggest smile, "I know."