First attempt at writing Azula. She ended up less messed up than I expected, but what the hey; she's been in the asylum for a couple of months now. Perhaps she's mellowed out.

Also, apologies for the crappy title. I seriously can't think of anything else. Help?

She does not look at him when he visits.

They always announce him first, "Fire Lord Zuko," which is her cue to turn her back to the door. His footsteps are stronger than before, firm and sure, but they falter as they get closer to her. They always do.

"Azula?"

His voice is no different: raspy and hesitant, too much worry in it, too much care. That was always his problem.

"Hello, brother," she says to the wall.

He sighs. "Won't you ever look at me, Azula? It's been six months."

Six months. Her fingers involuntarily clench into fists against her thighs. Six months since the Agni Kai. Six months since she lost to her pathetic, weak brother. Six months since said brother became Fire Lord, taking her rightful place on the throne. Six months since her mother started appearing to her.

"I never asked you to visit," she says. "Go away."

She thinks of the last time she saw him, two days after his coronation. Her mind was still teetering on the brink of insanity, her fingers still spitting blue sparks, her voice raw from screaming. They'd shackled her to her bed in the asylum, and she was lying there, thinking of all the ways she would kill everyone.

She'd start with the lesser people first. The guards outside her prison; two quick blasts of lightning should do the trick. Then the Fire Sages, for agreeing to crown Zuko. Her servants for deserting her (never mind that she'd banished them). Her uncle, just to finish the job.

She'd take her time with Mai and Ty Lee—Mai was a traitor for turning against her; Ty Lee was too for choosing Mai (and therefore choosing Zuko. Everyone chose Zuko).

She imagined she'd use Mai's knives against her, sticking them into the pale girl's skin, burrowing into flesh until she screamed. Mai was usually so stoic and emotionless; Azula wanted to see pain on her face.

As for Ty Lee... maybe she wouldn't kill Ty Lee. Maybe she'd just lock the acrobat up somewhere confined, a cell so small her contortionist ways wouldn't help her there. Azula wanted to wipe the bubbly grin off Ty Lee's face permanently.

She'd save her mother and brother for last. Ursa had always preferred Zuko, so it was only fitting the two should die together. Azula hadn't been able to decide who to kill first or how; she just knew it had to be as painful and drawn-out as possible.

It was these thoughts running through her mind when Zuko showed up at the door to her cell.

She stared up at him, eyes narrowed. There was no reason for him to be visiting her; after all, she'd tried to kill him.

(A small part of her reminded her she'd been aiming at the meddling waterbender, and an even smaller part pointed out the flash of shock and worry she'd felt as her brother fell from her lightning and the relief when she saw he was still alive, but she shoved those parts away, refusing to acknowledge them.)

"Come to gloat, Zuzu?"

He huffed. "No," he said, stepping closer and into a shaft of light. Her eyes zeroed in on the Fire Lord crown stuck into his topknot, and all rationality left her.

That crown was supposed to be on her head, in her hair. It was hers. Her brother had already taken the favor of their mother, Mai, and Ty Lee. He'd taken her victory and then their father. He couldn't take her crown too.

Azula's memories of that day are hazy at best, but she remembers screaming and blue fire skimming her fingertips, begging to be released. She remembers her mother as a ghost in the background, begging her to calm down. She remembers Zuko's face, his mismatched eyes wide, the bloody scar stark against his pale skin, his body swathed in too-big robes (her robes), and that crown (hers) in his hair.

He visited again two weeks later, when her doctors proclaimed her "more stable," and her guards had the sense to announce him first. But they said "Fire Lord Zuko," the memory of that golden crown flashed through her mind, and she turned her back to the door.

She has not seen her brother's face since.

She remembers it very clearly: she remembers the flawless side of his face, pale and perfect, almost feminine in its delicacy, the beauty of it (was that why Mai liked him? Was that why Mai deserted her?), the only thing Zuko had gotten from Ozai. Then there is the burnt side, a twisted, disfigured mess, as fascinating as it is grotesque, a mockery of the other side. Two completely different faces melded into one. The face of her brother, the face of the new Fire Lord.

Azula clenches her teeth.

"So... the doctors said you're getting better," Zuko says. "If you don't have any relapses, they might move you to a better room soon."

Relapses. Azula rolls her eyes. That's one way of putting it. When her mother wouldn't leave her alone and nightmares plagued her, when the thought of Zuko sitting on their now-imprisoned father's throne sent her mind into a cold, dark pit, only the shackles on her wrists could restrain her. Those were the nights she scared her guards so much, there would be new ones outside her room the next morning.

"I don't need to move," she says. "Maybe they could just take these things off instead." She rattles the chain of her handcuffs.

She can't see him, but she can practically feel his shrug. "Yeah, maybe."

Azula hides a smile. Oh, Zuzu, you are such a fool.

This is precisely why he cannot be a good Fire Lord. He is too naive, too trusting, too weak-hearted. He wants to believe there is good in everyone. He is too idealistic to realize that sometimes, people are just no good. Sometimes, people are born with poison in their souls.

"No, Azula," Mother says. "You have good inside you."

Go away, Mother! She doesn't say it out loud. She is supposed to be getting better, after all.

Zuko is talking again, saying something inane about the council and his friends and their opinions on some new policy in the Fire Nation. Azula doesn't care. He shouldn't be worrying about these things. He shouldn't be Fire Lord.

Zuko has always been the weak one, the emotional one. Azula is a firebending prodigy. She is a brilliant tactician and a master of her own emotions (up until six months ago). She made Father proud.

But that was the problem: only Father was proud. Mother thought she was a monster. Zuko was jealous of her and never wanted to spend time with her. Uncle never spent time with her. Lu Ten was nice to her, but he didn't understand her: he treated her like a girl. Even her friends, Mai and Ty Lee, didn't seem to like her that much. (Azula wasn't stupid; she knew many times they played with her because she wanted them to, not because they wanted to.)

Azula was more powerful than her older brother. More poised, more perfect, but everyone still liked Zuko more. That was something he always beat her at.

She feels like she spent her entire life trying to beat him, but in the end, she is the one locked in an asylum, and he is the one wearing the crown. And the world still likes him better.

The worst part is, she is beginning to see why.

Zuko will never be able to firebend the way she can. He will never generate lightning in seconds. He will never fully master his temper or be a brilliant strategist or trick a kingdom out of its de facto leader's hands.

But he cares. He cares about his country, he cares about his people, he cares about his friends, and for some reason he cares about her. He wouldn't be here at her door, talking about inconsequential things if he didn't.

Caring is a sign of weakness, Father said, and Azula believed him. Zuko cared and Zuko was weak. Azula did not care and she was most definitely not weak. Father must have been right.

But now Father is locked up in prison and Azula is stuck in a mental asylum. She knows she belongs here; she knows she has problems. Mother is not actually there and her brilliant mind is failing her. Whereas Zuko is Fire Lord and he has never looked—sounded—more confident, more at peace with himself.

Father was not wrong. Caring is a sign of weakness. However, everyone cares. Everyone is weak, and the world moves on. There is no place for people like Ozai. People like Azula.

"But you do care, Azula," Mother says. "You try not to, but you do."

"Shut up, Mother!" Azula flings her hands out as if that can stop the apparition from speaking. Zuko breaks off mid-sentence, looking startled.

So much for appearing to be getting better. Now she'll never get out of these handcuffs. (A pesky little voice in her head that sounds like Mother points out she wouldn't try to kill Zuko and take his throne if she got out of the handcuffs anyway. She ignores it—and since when did it become his throne?)

"Azula," Zuko says. "Are you getting better?"

"Why do you visit me?" she says dully. "Don't you have better things to do?"

"You're my sister, Azula. I can make time for you."

"Well, Mai and Ty Lee are my friends—were my friends—and they don't visit. And they have no excuse; I shot you with lightning and you're still here."

His flinch is nearly a tangible thing. Clearly he doesn't like to think of that any more than she does. "They want to visit. They're just... wary of you."

Even with her wrists shackled, her mind fragmented, and her spirit shattered, they are afraid of her. Azula does not know if this angers or pleases her.

"And you aren't?" she says.

He lets out another one of those huffy sighs. "I am, actually."

"Then why do you still visit? I never even look at you, and surely you don't find this fun."

"I don't."

"Well?" Azula prods. She's getting a rise out of him again. She's missed this.

"Look, if you don't want me to visit then I won't."

"I never said that. I'm just asking you why you bother when you never even get to see my face."

"Maybe I shouldn't bother then."

Grumpy, annoyed Zuzu is back. How familiar. "Maybe you shouldn't."

"Fine."

"Whatever pleases you, Zuzu."

He takes a deep breath and holds it; Azula counts to ten with him. He lets it out in a long drawn-out sigh before muttering, "I care, okay?"

She wasn't expecting him to actually say it. "What?"

It's like that one syllable broke a dam inside him: words begin pouring out. "Look, I know you've always been weird and messed up but that's Fath—Ozai's fault. You tried to kill Katara, you nearly killed me, and generally you've been a horrible sister." Azula opens her mouth to protest (even though she knows it's true) but Zuko rushes on. "But I haven't been a good brother either. When we were little, I never wanted to play with you or do anything with you. I was just stupid and jealous and... look. We've both been horrible siblings to each other and now you're here and you're messed up and I don't know what else to do and... I just... I care, okay?"

Zuko has never been one for eloquent speeches. Azula tells him so.

"Damn it, Azula!" He spins around. "Forget I said anything. I'll just go."

She turns. "Wait."

It's only been six months, but he already looks older, more mature, and for the first time in a long time Azula truly feels he is her older brother. His hair is about the same length as she remembers though; he must have gotten it trimmed. It hangs freely about his face; the Fire Lord crown is nowhere to be seen.

He turns too, and his eyes widen when he sees her. "You're... you're looking at me."

"No, Zuzu, I'm looking at my other brother. The one who's not a dum-dum."

He smiles at her tentatively, and she finds herself very nearly smiling back. Part of her is screaming, telling her to stop this nonsense; another part is telling her to earn his trust and use it to take her crown back; but most of her is thinking that if it gets her out of the asylum, if it helps repair her relationship with the only person left who cares about her, if it can help her be normal, then maybe, just maybe, being a weak, caring fool can't be too bad.

Reviews/constructive criticism would be great. Writing Azula was fun, and I might do more (not added on to this but more fics or whatever) if it didn't suck too badly. Sooo... tell me how that was. I tried not to make the characters overly OOC, but I probably failed. Also, it's really late at night and I may have missed something in my editing. Tell me if you've spotted anything.