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|More from Fruipit||Hurt/comfort & romance||G||None||No update page|
20th February, 2014
But, that's not what she hates the most. Toph hates how her daughter accepts it all. She remembers that her own mother was barely there for her as a child, and she resented her for that. Does her own daughter feel the same?
Lin's happy laugh as she runs to her mother dispels all such doubts.
"Hello, my little badgermole..."
A police station is no place for a six-year-old; even Lin recognises that fact. Then again, she isn't a normal six-year-old.
The people are nicer than those at her school. Just because she doesn't have a father didn't mean she was unsophisticated (a fact she disputed by earthbending the perpetrator onto the roof).
At the station, she often wanders around, talking to the officers; they are entertaining, and it means she can spend more time near Toph. Plus, sometimes they asks her to calm down a victim.
She is needed to help everyone. She wants to.
Azula begins to expect the girl—Lin. Every day, a few hours after her midday meal, she would arrive, staying longer and longer each day. She doesn't always come, although Azula certainly doesn't hate it when she is there.
Azula never speaks to the girl; in fact, she is barely get a word in, even if she had the inclined to speak.
She could try and lie to herself, say it mattered not whether the girl came, but no matter how she spun it, there is one small, undeniable truth.
It is nice to know that she isn't completely forgotten.
The first time she sees the person responsible for her incarceration, Azula swears she looks familiar.
She is taken to a room, a short woman following behind. For a reason that Azula can't understand, it feels... off. There is nothing special about the woman in particular. She is short and stocky—almost chunky, but not disgustingly so. She obviously works out, and from the several patches of dirt and way she exudes stubbornness, Azula can only assume she is an earthbender.
She isn't sure what to feel about that, and doesn't even know whether she should feel anything at all.
It takes one question and three of four very angry officers for Azula to realise what they want; someone to blame.
When she agrees to orchestrating some kind of crime, one of several men who are standing before her give a growl and leans closer. "It was my friend you killed," he says, slapping her before leaving. Azula sits there, ignoring the stinging sensation as the woman moves closer to handcuff her again. Above her swelling cheek, she still notices the shiny "Chief" badge pinned to the lapel of the short woman.
"Don't lie next time," comes the murmured warning.
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