"Underwater basket weaving?" Azula shook her head. "That's... insane."

Arnold sighed, "No, that's Frizz."

Arnold's house was small by Azula's palace standards, but it was warm and smelled of cooking. Not a familiar smell like rice or buns, though. Curiously, she looked around. The tables were high, with chairs like an Earth Kingdom table, and the floors were tiled like a Fire Nation house. The lights were electric like the ones in the science hall in the Palace. She examined the room, coming to the conclusion that yes, this whole place was indeed quite insane. A variety of familiar and unfamiliar objects stood before her, but three specific things caught her eyes.

"What are these doing here?" she asked, confused as she picked up a scroll.

Arnold's mother smiled warmly at her. "Ms. Frizzle left them for you. They're from your family and friends."

Azula blinked as she opened the first one, then grinned. "Typical Uncle Iroh." She chuckled. "He couldn't be serious to save his life, the fool. How he and my father can be related, only Agni knows."

She shoved the scroll at Arnold, then looked at the next one.

"Who's it from?" Arnold asked politely as Azula's light brown eyes scanned the Chinese characters.

"My friends, Ty Lee and Mai." She rolled her eyes. "Apparently Ty Lee sprained her ankle trying to walk across a tightrope she set up between the cookhouse and the servant's quarters, and Mai had to carry her." A sadistic grin twisted Azula's features. "I'm not sure which would be funnier, the looks on the cooks faces or Mai trying to deal with Ty Lee's crying. I swear, the second I leave, things finally begin to get interesting!"

Again throwing the scroll at Arnold, she picked up the last scroll.

"This one came with a package, too," Arnold's mother handed it to the Fire Nation girl, whose expression had gone sour.

"It's from my mother," Azula said, sounding surprised, and not in a good way. "Huh, I didn'think she cared."

Arnold stepped closer as Azula gingerly opened the cloth wrapped package. Inside, there was a comb shaped like a flame, made of metal that he would bet was actual gold, and a picture of two girls – no doubt Ty Lee and Mai, or 'Freaky and Creepy', as Azula dubbed them. Ty Lee was beaming a little too wide and Mai was frowning a little too much for Arnold's taste, but they did look interesting together. Then, beneath that, wrapped in silk, was a family portrait.

Lord Ozai, who the Frizz had said was Azula's father, had cold eyes like Azula, but a small smile was on his pale, well groomed face, and his black topknot was done perfectly, not a hair out of place. Beside him, grinning widely with his eyes closed, was who Arnold could only assume was Azula's funny uncle, his graying hair not as well done and his mirth obvious. Behind them stood a man who appeared to be their father, old and regal, face caught between annoyance and amusement but with a regal air about him. Standing next to Ozai was Ursa, obviously Azula's mother, her long black hair almost entirely down, her arms around the children. Her face was gentle and loving. There was a boy with dark, unruly hair who greatly resembled the father, and then there was Azula, looking as she did now; angry and spiteful despite everyone's else having a smile on their face. The family highly resembled one another, black hair and golden eyes, but Azula stuck out with her annoyed little pout. Arnold thought it was almost cute.

"This was from last year's Agni Kai week," Azula cringed. "Zuko looks so stupid in this picture. He could at least dress up for holidays, you know?"

Arnold sighed, because Azula's comments were wearing on his nerves, but he changed the subject as best as he could. "Your mom looks nice."

"Wanna know a secret?" Azula said suddenly, with a dangerous gleam in her eyes. Before Arnold could reply, she told him softly, "My mom does my dad's hair for him. She has since he was ten - he never learned. Can you imagine?"

Arnold ran a hand through his own hair. "I'm glad my hair can't grow that long."

Azula blinked, then randomly reached out and yanked on his hair. "Wow, it doesn't straighten at all," she noted as the hair fell into its unmanagable curls. Thoughtfully, she attempted to gather it up on his head. It fought back, falling into place instantly. "I suppose you could grow a top knot and shave the rest. Then it might not be so weird."

Arnold's mother grinned at her son's horrified expression. "I don't think a top knot would work for him."

"Hmm," the Fire Nation girl replied, "He could shave his head and grow a beard. That's what some of the Generals in the navy do."

Arnold groaned. "You know, I'm just gonna stay with my normal hair."

Azula sighed. "Fine, just ignore my good advice. You'll be sorry when you're older and you visit me, and all the boys look better than you." She paused. "Why is there a rock on the kitchen table?"

"I collect rocks." Arnold explained, as Azula picked it up without asking - a gesture he somehow totally expected from her, given that she was royalty and not exactly the greatest person socially. "It's white granite."

"Neat. My uncle has a rock collection, too," Azula grinned, "My mom hates it. It's never organized, especially all the sulfur."

"He has sulfur?" Arnold's eyes lit up like a child at Christmas. "I always wanted sulfur! Where'd he get it?"

Azula groaned. "Another rock lover. Fan-tas-tic."

Arnold's mother laughed, "You get used to it," and for the first time, Azula felt like she was at home.

- -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- - -- -

There had always been two sides to Azula.

There was the kind side. The side that was almost like a normal child. A bit bold and a bit lacking on manners, but normal. Happy. Playful. Talkative. No, that wasn't it - chattering. There was a part of her that was just like her mother, chatting and open to everyone. Part of her was totally carefree and uncalculated, a normal girl who wanted friends and talked about hair styles and played tag with Mai and Ty Lee in the gardens of the palace. This side of Azula wasn't dangerous at all. She wasn't anything over than a person.

Then there was that part of her, the part that combined her father's cruelty with her mother's sharp mind. The part that liked being in control. The part that could rip someone apart with words, hit someone when they annoyed her or shove them down when they outdid her. Manipulative. Conniving. Self serving. Every word out of her mouth could be cold and calculated to make the people around her bend to her will. She was just like her father, selfish and unable to love and violent. This side of Azula enjoyed making people cry and seeing people fight because of something she'd said.

It also kept people away from her. She knew their dirty little secrets and had their trust without earning it, because she'd inherited her father's charisma. But the people she made and broke backed off from her. They didn't see the splintering. They thought it was all one continuous person, not two parts of a whole. As long as no one recognized that she bounced back and forth, they couldn't get close to her while she was being childish. They couldn't get to her secrets, her fears and hopes. The mask of a fire bending prodigy princess with a sadistic streak was too much for people to handle. They didn't want to get burned.

But there was another part of the equation she hadn't considered until she met Arnold.

Did she want someone to be that close? Did she want to be her father and never let anyone (even his wife and children) close enough to be loved? Did she want to be her mother and leave herself open to everyone and anyone, to be broken at will? Arnold had no agenda. He had no way of rising to power through her. He was a neutrality in her life, a life filled with hidden motives and backstabbers. She wasn't sure how to react. She didn't know how. This had never happened before. Could she have a real friend? Was it too risky? What if there was more to this than met the eye? Father would tell her never to leave herself open. Mother would tell her to make friends with him.

Their daughter simply acted as if there was no battle in her head, no war waged between the opposing sides of her. She smiled, talked through dinner, and fell asleep on the couch halfway through a TV show on rocks. No one had ever gotten close enough to her to see that there was a problem. Fast asleep, Azula thought hazily to herself that if she could manage it, she'd like to keep it that way. Even better, she'd like to make people think that there wasn't anything other than the good side of her. Maybe she could do that here.

Little did she know that would make her bad side all the more explosive when it eventually showed through again.

No one could cast off their mask of fire so easily.