Chapter Text
Kyoshi Island may not have smelled like fish, but it definitely smelled like a scheme. A dazzling, cotton candy pink Ty Lee scheme to be exact. Mai wasn’t sure how she hadn’t realized it before...luring her away from her comfortably boring job and Tom-Tom onto a secluded island, then inviting the Avatar to guide the warrior group in “meditations for a few days” so she could finally get Mai to talk about her feelings.
Ty Lee had this ridiculous notion that meditating on what was bothering you allowed you to process it better. They’d been on Kyoshi for about three days, and she’d been trying to get Mai to join her and the other warriors in their sunrise sessions every morning to no avail.
(“Pleaseeeee, Mai? Just this once!” she’d beg. Mai told her she was crazy if she thought she was getting her out of bed before the sun while she was on vacation.)
Mai had to admit it was pretty smart of her to call in reinforcements...but it still wasn’t going to work.
After all, Mai had written the textbook on stone cold expressions. She wasn’t about to give Ty Lee the satisfaction of seeing it waver when Aang and Sokka strolled into the warriors’ training session unannounced. She didn’t squeal or rush up to the two boys like her friend did, throwing her arms tightly around both of their necks in her signature greeting style. And she definitely ignored the look that Ty Lee shared with Suki when Aang said, “We were just flying over on Appa and thought we’d pop in. I’ve been promising Suki I’d meditate with the Kyoshi Warriors for ages.”
She would’ve been more hurt if she wasn’t so furious underneath her mask of casual indifference. Mad? No, she wasn’t mad. On the outside she was aloof, calm, the pinnacle of chill; on the inside, she was mentally ripping Ty Lee’s wardrobe to shreds with her stilettos.
“Been a minute, huh Avatar?” Mai said, trying to discern anything that would give the monk away like the emotional traitor he was.
“Mai!” he said in his usual cheery voice, his gray eyes lighting up like she was the person he was most excited to see. (Which, knowing him, she probably was.) “Good to see you.”
This kid is good, Mai thought. Now if only he doesn’t ask about--
“How’s Kei Lo?”
“Fine.”
The lie fit so smoothly between her teeth she almost believed it. Aang smiled and held her gaze a little too long for Mai’s taste and she was suddenly gripped with a fierce paranoia. Did he know she was lying? Had he somehow spoken to Zuko before he arrived? What had Zuko told him?
“Bet you didn’t think you’d also be getting a lesson in the ways of the Air Nomads while you were here, hm?” Aang said. Ty Lee, Sokka, and Suki joined the two of them. Mai was vaguely aware of Sokka saying something about how hungry he was and Suki promising him that they would break for lunch soon. “Have you ever meditated before?”
“Can’t say that I have,” Mai said. She locked eyes with Ty Lee, who was looking at her earnestly. “And I don’t plan to start now.”
--
“Are you done being stubborn yet?”
Mai bit down one of her infamous sighs at the sound of Ty Lee’s voice. She’d been so certain that no one had seen her leave lunch early. She’d snuck into the empty training building to throw some knives around in peace. How was she supposed to achieve peace if no one would leave her alone?
“I’m not being stubborn,” Mai said coolly as she released a throwing star. It made a satisfying thwack against the bullseye on the other side of the room. “You’re being unreasonable.”
“I had to be unreasonable,” her friend said. She moved directly into Mai’s path, hands akimbo. “You refuse to talk to anybody about what’s going on with you. I would’ve left you at home if I thought you were just going to sulk around the island all day.”
Mai’s eyes narrowed. “I am not sulking .”
The look Ty Lee gave her said otherwise.
“C’mon, Mai,” she said, softening her approach. “You know you can always talk to me. Especially about Zuko.”
Mai didn’t know why such a simple statement grated on her nerves the way it did. She knew that if she told Ty Lee about what had happened with Zuko before they’d left that she would be a good friend and listen to the complicated mess that was her love life. There would be no judgements, no scoffing, none of Azula’s cruel laughter. She knew it, she did.
But there was always a voice in the back of her mind that told her it was easier to withdraw into herself, to put the walls up. Do not let anyone in, it said very matter-of-factly, you remember what happened last time. And the time before that.
Yeah, but this is Ty Lee, she wanted to tell that voice. She kind of put her life on the line for me. Literally.
“I just need time,” was all she said.
“That’s what you told me the day I came to see you in the flower shop,” Ty Lee said. “At some point you’re going to have to confront your feelings rather than pushing everything and everyone away.”
Mai’s hands curled into fists. Before she could stop herself, she chucked another throwing star at her target. It zipped right by Ty Lee’s head, causing her to yelp in surprise. Another gratifying twhack told her she’d hit her mark once again.
“Why can’t you just let me work through things my way, instead of trying to fix it for me?”
The look of shock on Ty Lee’s face should have made her feel more wretched than it actually did, but her anger was too righteous. Perhaps she and Zuko had more in common than she thought.
“You’re mad at me because I’m trying to help you?” came Ty Lee’s indignant response after a moment.
“Is that what you’re calling getting the Avatar involved in my business? Some help.”
How could someone who claimed to be her friend pull such a trick, no matter how well-intentioned? Why couldn’t she just get away with never talking about her feelings until thinking about Zuko didn’t hurt so much anymore? Was it too much to ask?!
She turned on her heel and stormed out of the building, peace and throwing stars now forgotten.
“Mai--!”
“Just leave me alone!”
* * *
Zuko glanced at the gilded clock on the wall opposite him and resisted the urge to flip the meeting table he sat at with a few of his advisors. They’d been at it for hours and there was no end in sight. Finalizing new security routes in order to keep a better eye on Zuko’s office and creating a small task force to figure out where the thief had come from could only be exciting for so long.
At this point, a part of Zuko didn’t care if the thief snuck back into the palace and stole everything out of the newly stocked armory. If this person managed to get past the dozen new guards and steal over a thousand weapons, then more power to them.
“My lord?” the voice of his advisor, Jiro, broke him out of his thoughts.
“Yes?”
Jiro cleared his throat. He must’ve already asked Zuko an important question. Oops.
“I said, do you think that additional security detail is necessary for your coronation anniversary celebration in two weeks’ time?”
“Oh,” Zuko said. “That…”
In all honesty, he’d completely forgotten about the ridiculous celebration. And given the current circumstances, he could think of about a hundred other things he’d rather be doing than listen to his advisors bloviate about all that he’d accomplished that year. If Mai wasn’t there to whisper dour, snarky remarks in his ear about each of the stuffy partygoers, what was the point? She was the only reason he got through any royal event since his coronation almost two years ago.
He chuckled softly to himself as he remembered last year’s festivities, when Jiro’s assistant, Sho, had asked if she’d like to say a few words in Zuko’s honor.
“Oh, I’m definitely not drunk enough for that,” she’d replied quickly, tipping her head back and downing her entire glass of plum wine in one gulp. “But ask me again later and see how I’m feeling.”
Toph had been standing with them and couldn’t stop laughing for the rest of the evening. (“No offense, Zuko, but Mai is officially my new favorite person in the Fire Nation.”) Poor Sho, thinking Mai was serious, kept coming up to her throughout the evening to see if she was ready to speak.
After the second time, Toph dared Mai to drink a full glass of wine each time he came around. Needless to say, he and Mai left the party an hour and a half early, with Zuko having to assist Mai through the palace halls so she wouldn’t trip and fall.
He’d snuck her through the corridors and into his bedchamber, where she’d immediately climbed into his bed. Zuko remembered thinking how comically small she looked against the enormous pillows.
He’d rushed to the bathroom to grab his drunk girlfriend a large glass of water, who had already started to drift off when he returned.
“Not so fast,” he’d said, helping Mai sit up and thrusting the glass of water into her hands. “You can thank me in the morning.”
“Fine,” she’d grumbled. “Do you think Toph realized how drunk I was?”
“Nope,” Zuko said, although Toph had been the one to stop Mai from pitching forward once or twice. He figured it was best to leave that little detail out for now.
He slowly started removing the pins from Mai’s elaborate hairdo, quietly marveling at how her jet black tresses tumbled down slowly. If she noticed him staring, she didn’t let on. When she’d finally finished her glass of water, she nestled back against Zuko’s plethora of silken pillows.
“Good night, Mai,” Zuko said, planting a chaste kiss on her forehead. Mai merely grunted in response.
Zuko stood and pulled the blankets tightly around her.
“Do you want to know what I would’ve said?” Mai said, startling him. Her words were already thick and slurred with sleep. “If I’d gotten the chance to speak?”
“What’s that?”
“That none of them deserve you. Your advisors, the other Fire Nation gentry. Not a single person at that party deserves what you give them. Wish I could’ve seen their faces. It would’ve been priceless.”
It was an oddly vulnerable thing to come out of his girlfriend’s mouth, which he knew made it all the more true. He felt himself blush and knew Mai would be teasing him about it if she’d been looking at him. He’d been on the throne for a year and felt like he was drowning. Each day had proven harder than the last, and he didn’t know how long he’d be able to keep his head above the churning waves.
Dissolving the Fire Nation presence in the Earth Kingdom colonies was proving to be a mounting disaster despite the Avatar’s assistance, the new budget would have to be reapproved for the fourth time, and then there was the haunting presence of his father and sister that he couldn’t seem to outrun no matter how hard he tried. It was jarring to hear one of the people he cared about most in the world say something with such confidence when he felt so lost. Did she really believe in him that much?
“I know this year hasn’t been easy,” Mai said. “But you give so much of yourself away. I love you too much to let them take any sort of credit.”
Remembering her words made Zuko wince. A few weeks later, he would sneak into Ozai’s cell and beg him for help. He wished he could take it all back. Instead of kissing Mai one last time and letting her sleep, he would’ve crawled into bed and listened to her drunken, brutally honest ramblings until the sun came up if it meant not losing her.
“Are you alright, your highness?” Jiro asked.
“Yes, I’m fine,” Zuko said. He pinched the bridge of his nose. He was really going to have to figure out a better way to stay focused during these meetings. “What were we discussing?”
Jiro shuffled a few papers around in front of him and gave Zuko an understanding look. At least one of his advisors knew when it was time to call it quits.
“We can discuss the coronation ceremony another time,” he said. “The last topic of business was simply an update on the investigation into what the thief stole from the palace. I do not have any news to report. Do you, Firelord Zuko?”
Zuko shook his head. “I’m still searching my office, but haven’t been able to find what was taken either. Whatever it was, it wasn’t accidental. It’s been almost three days and there’s not been any suspicious activity in the capital...but it has to be a part of some sort of plot. Why go through all that trouble to steal something you could easily find outside the palace?”
“Your guess is as good as mine, sir.” Jiro said politely. “We’ll reconvene tomorrow. Meeting adjourned.”
Zuko skulked back to his bedchamber, unceremoniously throwing himself onto the duvet the minute he knew he was alone. He scrubbed his hands over his face. Was it normal to feel this exhausted all the time? It would be a while until dinner was served. Perhaps he could get away with just a few moments of rest.
He rolled over, half expecting to see Mai there beside him. That had to have been the most painful part of their breakup, he was realizing: knowing that she wouldn’t be nearby, but still expecting her to be and ending up disappointed every time.
As he drifted off, he couldn’t help but think of the girl whose absence could be felt wherever he went. Zuko hoped whatever Mai was doing, she was having a better time than him.
***
They’d cornered Mai at breakfast, descending like buzzard wasps who’ve been starving in the desert for weeks. Aang’s meditation was to happen on a full stomach, at Sokka’s insistence, so when Mai had felt the meal coming to a close, she tried to put seventeen years’ worth of sneaking away unseen to good use, but they’d been ready for her. (She fully blamed Ty Lee for tipping them off, too.)
“Oh no you don’t,” Suki said, grabbing Mai by the arm when she caught the other girl trying to escape. Another Kyoshi Warrior (whose name Mai could never remember) grabbed her other arm and immediately began whisking her away toward the main training building in the middle of town. “All the warriors have to participate.”
“Did you forget the part where I’m not actually a Kyoshi Warrior?” Mai replied.
“Consider yourself an honorary one while you’re here,” Suki said.
“I’d rather not.”
Mai knew when defeat was staring her right in the face. She may not have been able to get out of the meditation session, but that didn’t mean she had to enjoy it. True to fashion, she shoved herself into the farthest corner of the room, putting as much distance between her and the others as she could and ignoring the twinge of guilt she felt as she walked by Ty Lee, who lacked her usual upbeat energy.
All of the Kyoshi Warriors perked up as soon as Aang walked in and took his place at the front of the room. Ty Lee must’ve really been rubbing off on her, because Mai could instantly sense the entire energy of the room change. It seemed calmer, safer somehow.
“Thanks for joining me this morning, everyone,” Aang said, flashing a small smile. “Meditation is an important part of the Air Nomad culture, and I’m excited to share it with you. I hope after this your mind will feel clearer and your spirit lighter. Let’s begin.”
Mai watched as everyone closed their eyes, imitating the Avatar’s position at the front of the room.
“As warriors, it’s important to always have a clear, focused mind. Being thrown off at a crucial moment could have severe consequences. So let’s practice merely observing our thoughts. Be aware of them, notice what you dwell on.”
A charged, heavy silence began to settle over the group.
“Think back to a time you did something you regret,” Aang said after a moment. “You might feel a variety of emotions. Don’t repress anything.”
Mai, eyes still open, could feel the room growing warmer by the minute. If she closed her eyes, she could still see Zuko’s face and the wall of the throne room fire that illuminated his features. He looked tired, then furious, then scared, as Mai turned her back on him.
“Goodbye, Firelord.”
“I ORDER YOU TO COME BACK!”
It wasn’t that she regretted breaking up with Zuko, per se, but she did regret the look in his eyes when he realized that she was serious, that she wouldn’t be coming back. He’d looked like a hurt, wounded child, and she’d played the moment over and over again in her head for weeks afterward.
But what about me, Zuko?, she had wanted to scream. Aren’t I hurt and wounded, too? How can you keep shutting me out like this?!
She knew she wasn’t the most open person in the world, but she and Zuko had worked past that. (Or so she’d thought.) She still remembered the hurt and confusion that had cut through her when Suki had told her Zuko was secretly meeting with Ozai.
They had opened up to one another, bared their souls, and he felt the need to hide something so monumental from her? So, she’d done the one thing she knew how to do: put the walls back up like they’d never come down and walk away...except it wasn't working out too well for her, was it?
“If you find yourself coming back to the same thing, notice that. In order to achieve clarity, some things have to be confronted,” Aang continued. “For now, still observe. Become aware of your past, even if it’s complicated.”
“When did this all become so complicated?”, came Zuko’s voice in her head.
Suddenly, she was back in the palace the day after Azula and the other Kemurikage had disappeared. Mai was dropping Tom-Tom off for a playdate with Kiyi and trying to forget the humiliating breakup she’d had with Kei Lo.
She had planned to just drop her brother off outside of the play room one of the servants was leading her to. She didn’t want to linger in the palace, but Zuko had been waiting in the room with Kiyi when they arrived.
My lucky day, Mai thought.
She deposited her brother on the floor, watching him run straight for Kiyi. The two immediately started giggling and playing together, caught up in the simplicity of childhood.
“They make it look so easy, don’t they?” Zuko said. It should have felt more awkward talking to him, given their relationship status, but to Mai it felt normal when he occupied the spot next to her. It felt so natural, so easy. She loved and hated it.
She nodded in agreement, smiling at the scene in front of her.
“When did this all become so complicated?”
“Hm?”
She turned to find Zuko staring at her. His golden eyes sometimes had a way of looking straight through her. She suddenly felt naked, defenseless.
“You know,” he gestured broadly, “all this.”
“Oh. Yeah.” Mai said. She thought of Kei Lo’s face when he’d said, “You still love him, don’t you?”
Complicated indeed.
They stood close like that for a few more moments, watching their siblings play with the various blocks and toys strewn about the room.
“Well,” Mai said, “I'd better go--”
“Actually, could we talk for a second? Out in the hall?”
Oh, no.
She should’ve said no, should’ve just insisted on leaving. It’s like Mai knew exactly where the conversation was headed but she couldn’t stop herself. Just like the trolley in Ba Sing Se going too fast down the tracks, it was bound to derail at some point.
Mai followed Zuko out into the empty hall, where he instantly began pacing. He started to say something a few times before thinking against it.
Mai rolled her eyes. “Just spit it out, Zuko.”
“I’m sorry about the other night.”
“What?”
“In the catacombs. I shouldn’t have put all of that on you. I’m sorry.”
He kept pacing, both hands sitting atop his head like he’d just sprinted through the palace.
“Okay?”
“Okay?!” he whirled around to face Mai, eyes ablaze. “That’s all you have to say...okay?!”
“Don’t do this right now, Zuko,” Mai said, folding her arms around herself. She did not have the emotional capacity for the amount of vulnerable declarations lobbed at her over the last few days. “I’m not in the mood, alright?”
Zuko stepped closer. He softened, trying to meet Mai’s gaze, which she stubbornly kept on the red carpet beneath her feet.
“Is everything okay?”
She shook her head, still not meeting Zuko’s face. The wound was still a little too fresh for her to be spilling her guts out to her ex-boyfriend. She was so caught up in replaying her and Kei Lo’s breakup that she didn’t realize Zuko was still moving closer until there wasn’t any room left between them.
“You’re so far away these days,” he said, gently taking her hands in his. “I wish you’d come home, Mai.”
She stared at their intertwined hands, marveling at how they still fit together so easily. She’d told Zuko in the catacombs that she would never let herself get hurt again, and she thought she’d believed it. But the moment Zuko’s hand had unconsciously slipped into hers the day of the riot, she knew. She would let herself get hurt over and over and over again. Zuko just had to say the word.
He brought one of his hands up to her face, cupping her cheek warmly. She involuntarily leaned into it.
“I really messed things up, didn’t I?” he said quietly. “I’d take it all back if I could.”
“Me too,” Mai rasped. Standing here with him felt like they were the only two people left in the Fire Nation. If the palace suddenly caught fire or was destroyed, she was sure she and Zuko would be the last living things standing amongst the rubble. “I’m not blameless, either.”
“Then why don’t we?”
“Because…”
Because...why? It wasn’t like Mai’s reputation mattered all that much to her, not since the Boiling Rock. It wasn’t the whispers or stares that would bother her, either. So, why not? Why couldn’t she do it?
“Yes?” Zuko said.
She still wasn’t sure why she ran. Maybe because it’s always the easiest choice in the moment. Run and don’t look back until you’re far away, and even then, keep running.
“Because I’m leaving,” she said. She watched the shock register on Zuko’s face. “For a while. With Ty Lee.”
“You’re going to Kyoshi Island?” he said in disbelief.
Mai nodded. “I just need time.”
She thought of those tall, beautiful vases that her parents used to decorate their home with before her family’s fall from grace. She’d broken one once after she’d run into the table it sat on, and she remembered the cold panic that shot through her as she watched it sail through the air and shatter into a million pieces.
She imagined herself as one of those vases, teetering precariously on the edge of the table, the cracks evident on every surface the moment it touched the floor. She dreaded the day she would inevitably break open and the rush of warm emotion that would come with it, but she’d tried to keep it inside for too long.
And for what? It was obvious to everyone. Ty Lee knew and so did her aunt. Hell, even Kei Lo had figured her out in a matter of days. She was still desperately in love with Zuko, and she was a fool if she had ever thought for a second that she could try and bury her feelings for him. It wasn’t a matter of time but of admission, and she knew it. And admitting it made it real.
Mai was suddenly aware of a horrible, raspy heaving sound coming from somewhere in the room. She thought it would stop after a second, but the noise (which sounded an awful lot like a strangled baby ostrich horse) continued. Where was it coming from, she wondered, and why couldn’t they quiet down so the group could quickly finish up the meditation? She opened her eyes to find nearly all the other eighteen pairs peering back at her curiously.
Did she have something on her face? Why was everyone staring--? Oh.
Oh.
She had been so caught up in listening to the Avatar that she hadn’t noticed herself slipping into a meditative state. Without realizing it, her breathing had become shallow and her shoulders were trembling. She touched her cheeks to find that they were wet with fresh tears, and an unfamiliar tightness in her chest had her gulping in air as she sobbed in front of the entire room.
This can’t be happening, she told herself, this is NOT happening right now. Not in front of all of these people.
She stood, pushing herself as fast as she could through the room and bursting outside.
Go, her brain told her, start running.
So she did. She ran through Kyoshi as the tears kept falling, clouding her vision. Her lungs and legs burned but she kept going, forcing herself to ignore the pain.
“Mai!” Ty Lee’s voice called out. “Mai, stop!”
Mai felt herself slowing down as it became harder to force air into her lungs between all of the running and crying. Ty Lee caught up with her easily, cutting her off in the town square underneath the statue of Kyoshi.
“I’m sorry, okay?!” she said. “It was my idea to invite Aang here, but he had no idea why we asked him to mediate with us. It was stupid, I shouldn’t have done it. I just wanted you to talk to me. But you have to stop running. Please.”
Another round of fresh tears spilled from Mai’s eyes as she looked at her friend head-on, taking her advice.
“I love him,” she managed to choke out. “Zuko. I still love him.”
She thought she’d feel as shattered and broken as those vases after her confession, but she felt oddly whole the second the words fell out of her mouth.
Ty Lee’s shoulders dropped, her face contorting in understanding.
“Oh, Mai,” she said, closing the distance between them. She enveloped her friend in a fierce hug, which Mai returned with equal ferocity. “I know. It’s okay. It's going to be okay.”
They stood like that for a long time, the former Avatar watching them from above until the sun wreathed her head like a halo.
***
The Fire Nation market was abuzz with word of the thief who’d stolen into the palace and mysteriously disappeared. Everyone who walked through the square was obsessed, mystified. From sun up to sun down, nearly every vendor in the Fire Nation was privy to bits and pieces of half-baked ideas about what had transpired.
Anyone and everyone had their beliefs about what the thief had stolen and where they’d escaped to. They shared their theories and countless rumors while rummaging around for mangoes and bags of lychee nuts.
Citizens made slow circles around the square, lingering the longest at the lonely-looking cherry stand that was positioned just by the exit of the market. They were all so engrossed in the juicy details that no one noticed the cherry vendor who was seemingly hanging on to every word she heard.
“My uncle works in the palace and he said that whoever it was stole almost all of the gold from the palace’s vault,” a young woman was saying to her friend. “I think the advisors are stalling because they don’t want all of us panicking that the firelord’s lost so much money.”
“How ridiculous,” the cherry vendor muttered under her breath, although the other girls didn’t seem to hear.
“Really?” the girl’s friend said. “My brother knows one of the cooks and they said that they saw an entire squadron escaping from the palace. The other kitchen staff says he’s crazy, but he swears he saw them running through the halls straight for the armory.”
Oh, please, the cherry vendor thought, rolling her eyes.
People really would believe anything, wouldn’t they? The hardest thing about hiding in plain sight was listening to these absurd ramblings that grew more asinine by the hour. What she really wanted to do was grab both women by the arm and scream, “IT WAS ME, OKAY? I DID IT AND I HAVE NO INTENTION OF STEALING SOMETHING AS SILLY AS WEAPONS OR GOLD.”
If she didn’t hate the firelord so much, she’d insist that she deserved a medal of valor for such an admirable performance. She took the women’s money and bid them a good evening before closing her cart down for the day.
She rolled the rickety contraption noisily through the narrow streets. Dusk in this part of town was always her favorite time of day. As she walked, she peered into the homes and shops that were also closing down. Sometimes she liked to weave stories about the people who lived in them, many of which were now sitting down to dinner with their families.
It pained her to think of how ineffective Firelord Zuko was, sitting so out of touch on his royal throne in the highest tower of that revolting palace. Because of him, she would never be able to sit down to a family dinner ever again.
Her venerable father, the only person she had in this life, had tried to speak up and take back the Fire Nation that she’d loved as a girl. But then the firelord had silenced him and the rest of the New Ozai Society, leaving her abandoned in her childhood home. She’d never been more lonely and desperate than she’d felt in the last few weeks. It wasn’t until she’d been at her lowest moment that she decided she was going to do something about it. Phase one had been perfectly successful, and she’d ridden the high from executing the perfect escape from the palace for days. Her father would’ve been so proud.
She passed the neighborhood flower shop, waving at the little boy (the owner’s nephew, she thought) who had his lips pressed against the glass. He grinned when he saw her and waved, leaving a delightful trail of drool on the window. She couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up and she returned the boy’s wave gladly.
The interaction left her momentarily buoyant, and she floated the rest of the way home with her cherry cart. It wasn’t until she arrived home that it all came crashing down.
The house was always dark these days, and a fine layer of dust had settled over all of the furniture. The food in the ice box was most likely rotten, although she had neither the will nor desire to check. She lit a candle and brought it over to the kitchen table, which was strewn with blueprints and notes, including one from her father the night he was arrested:
Hiromi,
Going out to fight for you, like always. I’ll be back before dawn.
-Father
It was always hard to stop the tears when she read the note, although what had started out as tears of sadness had become tears of fury and determination.
“Don’t worry, father,” Hiromi whispered aloud, wiping the tears away. She grabbed the parcel she’d stolen from the palace from its hiding spot in one of the cupboards, unfurling it on the kitchen table. “This is far from over.”