All Good Things

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All Good Things

Annoyed?

No.

Angry?

No.

Irritated?

No.

Something was bothering Azula and she had no idea what it was. Something was ticking at the back of her mind that made her feel annoyed, angry, and irritated, but the source was unknown. The feeling had been increasing exponentially for the past few days. She merely picked at her food at meals; spent the majority of her free time in her room with the music playing too loud; and everything that usually interested her barely held her attention anymore.

"Azula?" Sokka asked. She blinked a few times before turning to him. He wore an odd set of glasses with small lights attached to the frames that shone into her eyes. "I've asked you for that like four times."

Azula glanced at the hand that Sokka was now pointing to. The jeweler screwdriver in her hand was twirling distractedly as she stared at it. Gripping it tightly in rebellion to that strange feeling, she thrust it toward Sokka. He gave her a confused look before returning to the computer that the two of them were supposed to be working on.

"So what's up with you lately?" he asked without turning away from his work.

"Nothing's up," Azula answered defiantly. "I'm fine."

"Sure you are," Sokka mocked. "And Suki is upstairs playing baseball with our good dishes. Are you gonna be ready for this presentation tomorrow?"

"I said that I'm fine," she retorted.

"Okay," Sokka said, holding his hands up in defense. "I was just thinking that you might want to be doing something else right now since all that's left is the minor details. Why don't you go upstairs and relax? I got this covered."

Azula rose without a word or even a glance at Sokka. Perhaps he was the source of the odd feeling. No, that was not it. He was annoying most of the time, but it was not enough to bother her to this degree. Regardless, it would all be over and done with tomorrow anyway.

Azula stopped dead in her tracks halfway up the stairs. That was it. Tomorrow was the last day. The day it would all end. It was she herself who had insisted that the arrangement would only last until the project had finished. Why had she allowed herself to begin thinking of this place as her home? Why had she allowed herself to think of Sokka and Suki as family?

"Azula?" Suki called down the stairs. "That you? Done already?"

Azula shook herself from her thoughts and continued up the stairs. Suki was in the kitchen scrubbing her hands vigorously in the sink trying to get herself clean.

"What have you been doing?" Azula asked.

"My car's been acting up," she explained. "I'm pretty sure that it's the alternator, but the serpentine belt should really be replaced too."

"Good luck with that," Azula replied, heading for the door.

"Are you going to be back before dinner?"

"I don't know."

"Five o'clock!" she heard Suki shout as the door closed behind her.

She did not know why, but Azula had found herself going to the same place every time that she needed to think. Perhaps it was because it was quiet, or maybe because she knew she would not be bothered there. Whatever the reason, her old room was her thought sanctuary. Lying down on the floor where her bed used to be, Azula reflected on her options.

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