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“It’s not fair, it’s not normal, and I hate her.”
With a white-knuckled grip on the stroller handles, Katara glared at her sister-in-law from afar, watching her spread a quilt across one of Republic City Park’s shady clearings while Sokka set down their picnic basket. Strapped to his chest was little Rina, blowing raspberries and flailing her chubby arms and legs—almost adorable enough to extinguish Katara’s fuming envy.
(Almost.)
Walking down the path beside her, Aang offered a nervous chuckle, shifting the diaper bag from one hand to the other. “Hey, c’mon now…I don’t think you really mean that. You don’t actually hate Azula. You just wish—”
“No, I’m serious. I hate her.” Bumi gurgled under the stroller canopy, which Katara accepted as a sign of filial support. “She can be annoyingly perfect in every other way, but this is just too much. It’s been eight weeks—eight freaking weeks—since she delivered Rina, and she already looks like she did nine months ago! How is that even possible? I still look like an arctic hippo!”
“Katara, sweetie, you don’t look like a—”
“Yes I do!” she growled, gnashing her teeth. A roller skater going the other way gave her a concerned, wide-eyed glance and swerved to maintain a wide berth. “And I look totally insane wearing a sweatsuit in eighty-degree heat!”
“Okay, well, the blue brings out your—”
“I don’t care if it brings out my eyes!”
Glaring ahead, she set her sights on Azula adjusting the waist of her black leggings, the elastic band hugging a toned midriff that had been every bit as round as her own two months ago. To add insult to injury, Katara noticed that her sister-in-law’s red sports bra did not, in fact, fit as well as it used to.
“And she hasn’t even lost her pregnancy boobs! Do you see those things?!”
Aang kept his attention tightly focused on their son wiggling in the stroller.
“I really don’t think I should be seeing them.”
“Right, you shouldn’t—but they’re definitely bigger!”
As they turned off the trail onto the grass, she schooled her facial muscles into her best attempt at a pleasant smile, which probably resembled a constipated grimace more than anything else.
“You guys made it!” Sokka called, laying Rina down on the blanket. As if the blue eyes weren’t enough, she proved herself as her father’s daughter by instantly turning her fuzzy head towards the overflowing picnic basket and cooing eagerly. “Aang, buddy—do you happen to have some spare wipes in that bag? I’m smelling a major ‘defecation situation’ over here, and I forgot to bring an extra pack…”
“Oh yeah, sure—be right there!”
While her husband hurried over to help out, Katara parked the stroller and started unbuckling Bumi, smile wavering as Azula stepped over to greet her nephew. At this distance, she appeared to be in just as good of shape as she had on her wedding day—even if she might’ve needed her dress altered around the bust.
(Katara wanted to shriek, puke, and kick something all at once.)
“Well, well, well…aren’t you getting big!”
“Excuse me?! Who are you calling big?!”
She whipped around to find a sharp eyebrow raised at her.
“Bumi.”
“Oh…um…yeah,” she wheezed. “He’s…growing every day…”
Letting out a long sigh, she hefted him out of the stroller and handed him off to his aunt, who immediately received a happy gurgle of the kind Katara had heard earlier.
“Traitor,” she muttered under her breath.
“Behold,” Azula tittered, raising Bumi to eye-level, “your favorite aunt! Also your only aunt—which is a decidedly irrelevant detail given that any other aunts you might have had would be feeble, forgettable crones next to my materteral magnificence! Together, you and I will engage in constructive shenanigans and lawful mischief which will provide many enriching anecdotes for you to share with your future progeny!”
Bumi burped and spit up on himself.
“I’m glad you’re as excited as I am.”
She handed him back, and with a light snort, Katara eased down onto the blanket to sit with Bumi in her lap.
“You know, I wrote my own ‘favorite aunt’ speech for Rina, but I guess I left the script at home—sorry to disappoint.”
Relaxing on her side and propping herself up on an elbow, Azula’s expression morphed into one of her cool, unreadable masks.
“Not to worry. I’m sure Kiyi will manage something.” Her eyes flickered over Katara, bearing the faintest hint of amused judgment. “Planning to go for a jog later?”
“Pfft, no way. Why would I? It’s in the mid-eighties today.”
“You’re wearing a sweatsuit.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m obligated to exercise.”
“One might wonder why you would wear it in such weather if you’re not going to exercise.”
“It’s comfortable, okay?” she snapped back—then, evening her tone, added, “I think I deserve to wear what I want after carrying around this little guy for nine months.”
“Couldn’t agree more.” Azula’s hand disappeared under the lid of the picnic basket and produced a plump mochi. The sight of the pastry, eaten so casually, nearly made Katara’s head explode; in a matter of seconds, Azula horked down the whole thing with uncharacteristic intemperance. “I’ll be going for another run tomorrow if you’d like to join me. We can start in the morning when it’s cooler so you can wear your charming sweatsuit.”
Gritting her teeth, she let her gaze drift off towards the pond, watching a mother turtleduck leading a procession of four turtleducklings over to the far bank. She wondered if they would bite Azula if she pushed her into the water.
“Uh…yeah…we’ll see.”
“I’ll take that as a tentative ‘yes.’”
On the other end of the blanket, Sokka let out a whoop of triumph while Aang wiped his brow and dropped the box of wipes back into the diaper bag.
“All cleaned up and freshly changed! Talk about a blowout…haven’t seen a natural disaster that bad since Mount Szeto erupted!”
Rina cooed, kicked her little feet, and issued out a long, wet sound from inside her diaper that Katara couldn’t mistake for mere flatulence.
“Aw man, you gotta be kidding me!” Sokka groaned, slapping his hand across his face. “Why couldn’t you have done that five minutes ago?!”
“Evidently she has her mother’s excellent sense of timing,” Azula quipped, smirking. She reached for another mochi, popped the entire cake into her mouth, and gulped it down after just a couple of chews.
That was enough to shatter Katara’s fragile restraint. With Bumi drifting off in her lap and Sokka and Aang preoccupied with changing Rina again, she leaned forward and caught Azula’s eye in a withering glare.
“Alright, I can’t take this anymore,” she hissed, jaw clenched. “How do you look like that when you just had a baby?! You’re clearly not on a strict diet. Is it the exercise? Have you been working out three times a day for the last two months? It’s not fair that I have to wear a—” She covered Bumi’s ears. “—freaking sweatsuit while you’re back in swimsuit shape already! And then there’s your boobs—I mean, did you go up a whole cup size?!”
A sly, slanting smile spread across her lips, not quite enough to be considered taunting, but still very much smug.
“I’m afraid I can’t explain these—not that I’m complaining—but I have indeed been burning plenty of calories in the last few weeks.”
“So it is the exercise, then? You’re just going for jogs every day?”
“Hardly every day.” Her eyes shifted over to Sokka, making babbly baby talk to Rina while he dressed her in her third diaper of the afternoon. “Let’s just say that your brother and I have been expending a great deal of energy rehearsing for the next one. There’s something about seeing him as a father that just…does things to me…”
Humming lowly, she trailed off, biting her lip and eyeing Sokka in a way that Katara really didn’t want to see; nor did she want to dwell on Azula’s implications.
But there was no denying that her sister-in-law’s regimen had merit.
Bringing her mouth to Bumi’s ear, she whispered softly:
“Looks like you’ll be getting a sister sooner rather than later, sweetie.”