What makes me angry?
Who: Azula What: Her dreams return. Therapy? When: 2/18 Where: Fire Nation Mental Facility Status: Complete Rating: PG-13 for mental anguish
They called it “Therapy”. Just some woman prattling on while Azula pretended to listen. She was elsewhere. Not physically, but mentally and emotionally. She’d lost. Lost herself, lost the Agni Kai, been put down by that brat Katara. Her only consolation was that she’d beaten Zuko. She’d defeated her brother, and if Katara hadn’t been there, she would have destroyed him, utterly.
She would be Fire Lord, but she knew her nation would have been crushed. It was a bittersweet feeling.
“What makes you so angry, Azula?” The woman was saying. She had been patiently trying to narrow down the precise nature of Azula’s psychotic break for weeks now.
Azula focused her attention. The woman had her hair pulled up into a severe bun. She was trying to be professional, but all Azula could think of was that she wanted to break her. She tilted her head, one strand of hair coming loose and falling into her face. It was shorter than the others. Azula’s lips turned up into a cruel smile. “What makes me angry?”
She tried to move her hands, but they were shackled to her feet. The girl started to giggle uncontrollably. “What makes me angry is people asking me what makes me angry!”
“That’s not it, sweet child.” A presence stood behind Azula, and she crane her head around to look. Her face grew ashen as she stared at her mother.
Ursa continued, unperturbed by her daughter’s expression or the odd look on the therapist’s face. “You feel betrayed, by the people you loved more than anything else in the world. You feel betrayed by yourself for feeling these things, and angry with yourself because it was your fault.”
“It was not my fault! They turned against me! I loved-” Azula roared, and started to thrash in her constraints. The therapist lept out of the way as guards rushed in. A draught was forced down her throat, and blackness descended over Azula.
When she woke, her pillow was stained with tears. Azula slipped out of bed, sliding her hands into her hair and letting out a short scream of rage.
She didn’t want to know. She didn’t want to know what came next.