A/N: First of all, if you haven't yet, you might want to consider re-reading chapter 1, or at least the first part of it, as the story has an extended intro that includes a scene portraying the night of Jet's death from Jane's perspective. Sorry this chapter is taking so long, guys. Lots of writer's block and other internet stuff keeping me occupied. The rest of this chapter is almost done, should be up this weekend. That said, progress on SRU artwork and Esteemed commissions has been going splendidly. SRU reached a milestone of 200 total artworks made this past week (though not 100% are uploaded to DA yet). You can always follow all updates on either project through the FB pages (probably the most concise way to follow every update). Links down in the description.

What I Learned at SRU
Chapter 88 - Choices

- Friday, April 22nd, 2011 - Last day before Spring Break

Korra's heavy steps thumped down the stairs, her sluggish movements like that of a zombie.

"Yar-yar!"

Korra's eyes bugged open at the sound of her puppy, and she flinched with shock. The jarring noise was unsettling, and she grimaced as she fumbled through the room, her dog nipping at her heels for attention.

"Rrrrr-arp! Arp-arp!"

"Naga..." she whimpered. "Stop..."

A clean whistle shot out from behind Korra, again causing her shoulders to pop up and her eyes to open wide with surprise. To her relief, however, Naga froze in place, staring back into the living room. As Korra's bare feet touched the cold tiles of the kitchen floor, Naga scampered back.

"There's a good girl," came Bolin's voice. He didn't speak in that stupid baby-ing tone people often would with animals. He just...spoke like Bolin spoke. Korra liked that, though she was presently too grumpy and unaware to ponder this thought.

Korra rubbed at her face as she passed Mako, who was sitting at the tiny metal table to her right, eating a bowl of hot oatmeal as he scrolled his thumb over his phone's touch screen. He was in a white button-down, tucked into his tan khakis, and his hair was styled for the day, the bangs spiked up sharply.

"The morning...is evil," Korra moaned, eyebrows furrowed as she reached up into the cupboard for a mug.

"Deal with it," Mako retorted with nonchalance, not even looking up to her.

Korra set the mug on the countertop beside the coffeemaker.

"You deal with it," she grunted at him, grabbing the half-empty glass pot with her back turned.

"I do," Mako replied sharply, still refusing to look toward her. "Five days a week, unlike some people around here..."

Korra's nostrils flared out, her eyes narrow as her grip on the pot's handle tightened. She kept her cool, pouring her coffee as steadily as she could. Her and Mako hadn't been on speaking terms since Korra's selfish mistake the other night, though the two were doing their best to keep Bolin unaware of this tension.

"I actually have an interview today," Korra matter-of-factly explained, spooning sugar into her coffee.

"So that's why you're awake before noon," Mako mocked, lacking enthusiasm. "And actually wearing pants," he added, noting her black sweats. Korra shot him a deadpan glare that he ignored while she opened the fridge, reaching for a milk carton. She poured a bit into her mug before grabbing a teaspoon from the silverware draw and stirring it with groggy rage. Stupid Mako, and his...stupid...fucking...stupid. Rrgh.

"Oh, hey," said Bolin as he entered the now crowded kitchen. "He's right," he observed, his tone innocent and amused. "You're...not just in your boxers! Wow, and you're even wearing a shirt and everything! I am impressed," Bolin teased, grabbing a package of Pop-Tarts from atop the fridge. Korra waited for him to get out of the way, a small smirk on her face at his picking while she placed the carton back in the fridge door. Mako was doing it to piss her off and make her feel stupid - Bolin was doing it to make her smile in spite of herself. "What's the special occasion?" Bolin wondered facetiously.

"I've got an interview at the school for a security job," Korra told him, wiping sand from her eyelashes as she clasped at her coffee mug carefully.

Bolin gave her a bright smile and a gentle, encouraging pat on the arm.

"Whoa-ho, I didn't know about this!" He pressed his Pop-Tarts down into the toaster.

"Yea, well...I didn't either, until yesterday," Korra mumbled, taking a small sip of her hot drink. She observed the time on the microwave: [8:34am] "But I have it in, like...an hour."

"Your car's still at the shop," Mako coolly reminded. "Which we're helping spot you for, by the way." Those words were a lot hotter. "So how are you getting to this interview?"

"Uhhh...I...hadn't really-"
"-thought that far ahead," Mako finished for her, evoking their conversation from the other night. She wrinkled her nose at this and drank more of her coffee.

"Hey, it's no big, I can drive you," Bolin assured, the underlying tension completely over his head.

"Thanks, Bo," Korra muttered with some gratitude, giving him a weak smile.

Mako scraped at his bowl, finishing off his oatmeal. He got up, dropping the bowl into the sink and swiftly heading for the door. He grabbed his old red scarf from the coat rack and tossed it around his neck as he often did before heading off to work. Korra didn't understand why he insisted on wearing such an ugly, ratty old thing all the time, but...whatever. Like she should care.

"You two have fun," Mako sighed. "I'm heading out."

"Catch you later, Bro. Oh, hey!" Bolin spat as Mako was halfway out the door. His brother paused. "Did you need me to get any groceries while I'm out?"

"Uh, sure," Mako mumbled with a shrug. "There should be a list on the fridge. Thanks."

"No problem! Have a good one!"

"Bye."

After Mako had vanished, Korra took a deep breath, sitting herself down in the seat he had just been occupying.

Ka-chink! Bolin's breakfast popped out of the toaster. He got himself a small plate and carefully extracted his heated pastries.

"So, Korra...You nervous?"

"Mm?" Korra hummed tiredly, running her fingers through her messy hair, which was hanging loose over her shoulders.

"I dunno, you just...seem 'off' today." He sat down across from her casually, a pep in his morning step. "I'm sure you'll do fine, though."

"Yea?" Korra gawked a bit at his thick arms as he lifted a Pop-Tart to his mouth. "Mako doesn't seem to have so much faith in me," she grumbled, looking back down to her coffee just as his eyes went to meet hers. There was a quiet moment between the two of them as she drank and he chewed.

"Agh, I'm sure he does," Bolin insisted. "He's just really critical. That's just his way of caring, you know?"

"Is that how he shows he cares about you?" Korra dubiously wondered. "He's a hard-ass all of the time?"

"Pretty much," Bolin acknowledged with a calm nod. "That's what I need once in a while, I guess."

"Maybe he needs to chill the fuck out once in a while, then..."

"Yar-yarp! Yarp!"

"Ugh, O-OK, hey...girl..." Korra sighed at the clawing and licking at her shins, and she reached a blind arm down to pet her dog, only to come up with slimy fingers.

"Yarp!"

"What is your issue?" Korra whined. "Huh?"

"Rrrrarp! Arp!"

"Naga..." The shrill barking was rattling Korra's skull.

"I think she's just hungry," guessed Bolin, leaning over the table and giving the dog a stupid grin. "Am I right, little lady?"

"Yarp!" Naga stared up at him with wide eyes, panting. Bolin got up out of his chair and went to go fill Naga's dog dish with dry food.

"Oh...Bolin, you don't...-" Korra started, but he was already at the task, and she was too lazy to force him to stop. She glanced down at her coffee with some guilt, her mind heavy with Mako's warning from earlier about telling Bolin the truth.

"There ya go!" Bolin rustled his big fingers around Naga's head as the puppy excitedly went to eat. Bolin sat back down and bit off another chunk of his tart.

"Thanks."

"Mm-hm."

"Where's the other critter at?" Korra asked.

"Pabu's being a lazy-bones, he's still asleep."

"Heh..." Another few seconds of quiet. Naga chomped at her food, Bolin swallowed his pastry, Korra gulped her coffee. "So, er...What's your plan for the day? Work?"

"Actually, I'm off today," said Bolin. "I'm going to swing you up to the school, and then on the way back I figured we could hit up the grocery store, if you don't mind."

"Oh. Right. Yea, that's fine..."

"But other than that, I mean...No, I'm pretty free."

"Ah. Cool."

"Why?"

"Uh, I don't know. Just wondering."

"Mm."

Korra bit at her upper lip, drumming her fingers along the ceramic mug in her hand. The clattering of Naga's feet against the tiles trailed out of the room. That pup needed her nails trimmed. But her brain inevitably forced itself back to the topic at hand.

"Bolin, a couple nights ago...-" Korra sighed, her eyes squinting shut as she scrounged up the force to just get this over with. "-...I kissed Mako."

She was afraid to look up at him, so when she opened her eyes, they remained glued to her drink. There was silence. It was unsettling, and she spit-fired her explanation.

"It was a retarded mistake, it was my fault, he totally wasn't interested, I just sprung it on him, I don't know what I was thinking, I'm so stupid!" She huffed through his nostrils, her insides twisted with doubt and worry. Another heavy pause followed, and she almost felt like throwing up. It shouldn't have even mattered, right? After all of the things Korra had used to do up in Toronto, this was barely an offense. But this was a different type of situation than Korra's previous engagements with men. Perhaps more importantly, Bolin was a different type of man.

At last, she looked up at him with nervous, grit teeth. He was hunched over slightly, his elbows on the table, arms laid down flat. His eyes were wide, his thick brows perked up with surprise.

"Sooo...Wow," he managed out, motionless. "That...sure is, uh, somewhat unexpected, I...-"
"I shouldn't have done it. It was a shit idea," Korra rapidly blurted out, her fingertips digging into her forehead.

Bolin shrugged, blinking with those wide eyes at her.

"But...do you have feelings for him?" Bolin asked in earnest.

Korra breathed out grouchily, closing her eyes. He wasn't going to freak out at her? Even if not for his own sake, his brother's?

Korra tried to decide a concrete answer to Bolin's question. Feelings? Hm...When she thought about Mako's body, her wolf-like libido howled. But...that was really all there was to it, if she honestly confronted it for what it is.

"I don't think so," Korra confessed in a mumble.

"No?" Bolin checked, as if he himself was confused by this answer.

"No, I...-" Korra recalled what Mako himself had said - that he found her attractive, but that he wasn't romantically interested in her. "It was just hormones, I guess...Now that I'm thinking on it. I don't know, it was-...There was just this heat-of-the-moment thing..."

"You wouldn't be the first," Bolin muttered with a hint of spite in his tone.

"Bolin," Korra pushed onward. She could see it in his quivering eyes. He was stung by this discovery. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to get out of hand..."

"Eh," Bolin shrugged, trying to repress his disappointment. "It's all right. Stuff happens."

"You're...not mad at me?"

"Mad? Why?"

"Whh-...But, the way I acted at the dance, I just feel like such a whore, or...something," Korra grumbled. "Like I've been playing you two, or...I don't know..."

"Hey, now." Bolin tilted his head slightly. "We still had fun together, didn't we?"

"I had a great time - honestly!" Korra insisted. "I really needed that, and...-" She paused, scratching at her hairline awkwardly. "I know it's kind of selfish, maybe, so I totally understand if you think it's a bad idea, but...would you maybe be interested in...doing something like that again?"

Bolin's eyes narrowed, those hairy eyebrows shoved downward as he glared at her, tapping his chin.

"OK, see...-" He gestured toward his own face. "This is me. Confused. Flabbergasted. This is what a baffled Bolin looks like." She snorted out a laugh, if only out of relief that he was letting this totally uncomfortable situation roll right off his back.

"Uhhh...Is that...a 'yes?'"

"It could be a 'yes.' It would quite probably be a 'yes.' Potentially, possibly, maybe. If it's a second date we're talking about. Or even not a date. Because that's cool, I mean that's fine, it's chill, it's whatever, it's-"
"OK, OK," Korra chuckled out. "Bolin, I am...an idiot. My life is...a fucking mess right now. But I am asking you out on a second date. That is what I am doing."

Bolin's melodramatic glare shifted. His eyes relaxed, and he smirked. He waved toward his face again.

"This is me. Intrigued. Bemused. This is what a 'Yes' looks like."

Bolin's smirk turned into a smile when Korra laughed through her nose at his reaction. Her hums might as well have been the sound of harp strings plucked by angels.

As the laughter faded, Korra's mind whirled with second-guessing. In Korra's experience, people didn't give her extra chances, extra dates. They were always left intimidated by her body, off-put by her cockiness, disinterested in her pushy nature.

"You're sure you want to give me a second chance?" Korra asked, skeptical of Bolin's easy trust. "Even after you know what a retard I can be?"

"Korra, you're not a retard," Bolin sighed. "So you kissed Mako. I don't think it meant anything - did it?"

"Err...No, but...that's my point, Bo. I'm just...so used to that sort of thing not really meaning anything. What if...we go down this road, and then I do something stupid again and you get hurt, eh?"

Bolin stared her right in the eyes and gently shook his head.

"You won't," he calmly insisted.

"But...-" Korra's eyebrows arced. "You don't know that."

There was a twinkle in Bolin's eyes that had Korra surprised and engaged. She'd just bluntly explained her own stupidity to him, pushed out a second date at him, yet he was just going with the flow, like it was nothing.

"That's true," he conceded. "That's why it's 'trust,' Korra."

Korra glanced down at her coffee again, resting her cheek against her wrist. She took a drink, then looked back up to him, her face still wedged against her hand.

"You trust me?" she muttered in perplexed amazement. She'd confessed her idiocy to him, and it was making him trust her? What kind of guy was like that?

"I do," replied Bolin simply, finishing off his first Pop-Tart. "With some people, you have to earn trust - people like my Bro. But me? I try to give it when I can." He rubbed his fingers together, wiping crumbs off onto his plate. "I guess I just feel like sometimes, a person just needs someone who will trust them, even if they maybe don't deserve it. You know what I mean?" Korra and Bolin exchanged glances. Korra was captivated by the innocent sparkle in her housemate's smile. He was likewise endeared by how pathetic and adorable she looked, glancing up to him from behind herwrist. "Uh...This is the part where I'd say something funny, to lighten up the mood," he timidly broke the silence, picking up his second tart. "Not gonna lie, though..." He shrugged, biting into it. "Ah godd nuffin."

"Ha..."

Bolin swallowed, loosely pointing his bitten Pop-Tart toward Korra.

"But you shouldn't be worrying about that sorta stuff right now, you've got that interview today. Shouldn't you be getting all dressed for that?"

Korra flinched upright, her eyes wide. Ah, shit, he was right.

"I mean, you're already in pants and a shirt," Bolin chuckled. "That's a step up from most mornings, but...-" She shot him a snarky leer as she rose up, and they both snickered. After finishing her coffee and setting the mug in the sink, Korra started to leave the kitchen to get properly cleaned up, but Bolin stopped her. "Hey, whoa, hold up."

"Huh?" She looked back over her shoulder.

"Kor, ya gotta eat something. Come on."

"Oh." She shrugged, turning back around and stumbling toward the cupboards. "Yea, I probably should, eh?"

"Need some food in that belly before you go oot n' aboot, eh?"

"Shut up," Korra chuckled, reaching for a box of cereal.

"Ya hooser."

"I will knock that grin off your face!" Korra warned in jest, whirling around.

"Beauty, eh?"

Korra slammed the cereal box onto the table, lifting a fist to Bolin's giggling face and flexing her noticeable arm muscles at him. Her eyes were wide and threatening, but her lips were tight, only able to contain her snickering for a moment before she joined him in laughter.

Jane stared up at the intimidating owl statue before her. It's eyes of stone seemed to glare back at her with rigid resolve. The metal plaque attached above the doorway read: {WAN SHI TONG MEMORIAL LIBRARY} Jane had passed into and out of the library a few times over her years here, never really taking heed of the name of this building. She was reminded of how it seemed like everything in this town had some kind of Asian spin on it, and how utterly bizarre that was when she paused to consider the fact.

She took a deep breath, recovering from the derailment, and glanced down at the engraving in the sidewalk below her feet.

{Enter ye who seeks to be}
{He who knows 10,000 things}

I only wanna know one thing: what does the school have to do with these people getting murdered?

Jane pressed forward, walking through the glass double-doors and into the dead-silent library. Seemed like it was pretty damned quiet today, with hardly anyone in sight. Technically, spring break had already started for some students, and everyone else was no-doubt ready to leave campus ASAP, anyway. Glancing at the stacks of magazines and video tapes to her left, then the aisles upon aisles of books to her right, Jane was at an utter loss. She timidly approached the desk, but a teenage girl with bobbed brown hair had beaten her to the punch, a weathered hardcover book in hand.

"Professor Zei?" she said gently, getting the attention of the man behind the desk. He was a quaint fellow with thin glasses and a comb-over, the edges of his hair slightly grayed. For a guy with the surname 'Zei,' he looked...pretty damned Caucasian. Weird. Well, whatever.

"Ah! Why, hello, there, Jinora," greeted the man with a courteous voice and a wide smile. "And what can I do for you today, Little Lady?"

Jinora set down the yellow book on the desk alongside her library card.

"I'd like to borrow this one, please."

"Pride and Prejudice," Professor Zei read, sliding the book toward himself with care. "Another oldie for you this week, hm?"

"You've read it?" Jinora wondered.

"Haha," he sheepishly laughed, keeping his voice low despite the lack of people present. "I confess, I have tried. Not exactly my kind of literature. But! I have a sneaking suspicion that you will eat it right up."

The Professor scanned the book and the card with his laser gun and punched in something onto his terminal. He then stamped the ticket attached to the book's inside cover and handed the materials back to her with a smile.

"Cool! Thanks, Professor." Jinora accepted the book, tucking it under her arm. "Have a good day!"

"Yes, have a good weekend!"

Jinora blew right past Jane, texting away on her cell phone as she exited the building. When Jane turned back around, the man was giving her an inquisitive stare.

"How may I help you today?

"Uhhh..." Jane swallowed, awkwardly stepping up to the counter. "Lookin' for old issues of the newspaper...?"

"Which one? The Wayward Chronicle?"

"Er, actually...the school paper, I think. Try that first."

"Ah, yes. The White Lotus."

"...Sure..."

"How far back? Are you looking for something more recent, or...-?"

"Uh, I...I dunno, as far back as ya got."

"Are you looking for something in particular?"

"Uh, kind of? Maybe? Is there, like, some digital...copies? That I can run searches on?"

"As a matter of fact, there are," Zei replied, gesturing his index finger toward her as he rose from his seat. "We have a machine down in the basement that lets you browse through scans of every issue."

"'Kay. So...Need that, I guess." Jane shrugged, her hands stuffed in her pockets.

"Excellent." Zei got up from his desk and bid her to follow him. "Right this way!"

Within a couple of minutes, Jane was set up in the basement floor - alone, she gathered - using a 90's era computer with a box-shaped monitor to search through the history of The White Lotus newspaper. Jane's attempts at looking up info on the [Combustion Man] proved futile. She acknowledged after the fact that this actually made sense, because...duh. The name 'Combustion Man' hadn't been assigned to the guy until this present year. She ran a search on the [Silver Serpents], the gang June had once worked for. Nothing. [Dragon of the West.] Nothing. [Fire] was far too vague, and too many entries showed up. Hm...

A look at [Kurosawa] brought up all kinds of stuff, and a quick skimming tipped Jane off that the family had been involved with the college since its initial founding - which wasn't as long ago as she'd assumed. A few generations back, but not near as long as most universities she was aware of had been around. It seemed that a man named Miyazaki Roku had founded the school with close support from one Sozin Kurosawa. Jane had never realized just how far back the Kurosawa family's ties were with this place.

Heh. The name 'Iroh' was starting to show up next to the [Kurosawa] tag she was searching under. Man, he'd been teaching at this school for about thirty years, it looked like. Damn - kind of crazy to think on.

Whoa, wait up. What was this stuff about? The name 'Lu Ten' was showing up a few times here. Who was that? Jane browsed across tidbits of data.

[...word that his son, Lu Ten Kurosawa, was the victim of a brutal mugging while on vacation...]
[...Kurosawa was reported as being in critical condition...]
[...Lu Ten Kurosawa, son of SRU Professor Iroh Kurosawa, passed away tonight while...]
[...investigation concerning Kurosawa's death remains inconclusive...]
[...confirmation that Professor Kurosawa will continue his teaching duties despite...]

Jane was perplexed and sympathetic. That warm, cheery old man had his son taken away from him, years back? And he just went about life with his cheery smiles and his calm demeanor? She hadn't given the man enough credit, clearly. Jane clicked on an article link to try and dig deeper into this, but as she started reading, something pulled her swift mental train to a screeching stop.

[Faculty Family Member Slain in Tragic Mugging]
[By Joel Fitzpatrick]

Joel.
Fitzpatrick.

Ár ádh mór ort.

That...was just a coincidence. Right? Joel was a pretty common...ish...name. Fitzpatrick, pff. Tons of those. Yea.

But Jane couldn't let go of it. That was her father's name. Had her dad gone to this school? Had that been the entire reason her uncle had suggested it in the first place? But...then, why not just tell her that Good Ol' Dad used to go here? Her brain was whirling in circles. She had to seek confirmation on this. She scanned the year of the newspaper article's printing, then abandoned the computer, making way for where the general area she recalled the catalog of SRU yearbooks were kept. It took a little bit of tracking down, her head swimming all the while. She finally hit the right section, stormed the shelves, grabbed the appropriate book, and scanned through its photo section with fervor.

After this whole search that felt dragged out and discouraging, Jane finally found it. {Joel Fitzpatrick} She found the correct photo. Fucking christ. That was...him. Heavy eyes, a dorky bowl cut hairdo, his face adorned with freckles galore...Jane dug her wallet out of her pocket, pulling out the small photo she had retained from her parents. She placed it beside the tiny portrait for confirmation.

She wasn't seeing things. It wasn't a coincidence. This was the same guy. It was her dad.

Jane's father had attended SRU. He'd apparently written for the paper, once upon a time. It clicked - this had to have been what Iroh had been alluding to, why he seemed just a little familiar with her.

Mother of fuck. What if...-? Nah, that doesn't make sense. I'm just...gettin' paranoid.

Jane realized that her breathing had become shallow and that she was scratching at her eyebrow. She froze, eyes squinted shut, and she took a slow, deep breath. Trying to find out about the Combustion Man or the Kurosawas or the gang bullshit...none of that even mattered right now. Learning about her father had pushed all of that aside and become her priority. She took a cell phone picture of her father's yearbook photo. She scanned the nearby years and repeated this process with the other three photos of him she could find - and he looked just as dorky in each one. She found his senior picture and quote.

{The future is not set, there is no fate but what we make for ourselves.}
{~ Irish proverb}

Her eyes were bubbling over with contained tears. This was bizarre and sad and strange and happy, all at once. Some kind of a connection with her dad for the first time in so many years after having grown up with him as a non-factor in her existence. Like an old, dear friend giving you a call, sending you a letter, leaving you an e-mail.

Her phone's tiny camera didn't have the best quality, but she admired the fuzzy photos she now had stored before setting the yearbooks away. She went back to the dusty machine she'd been at read, and she whittled the time away until dinner. The subject material was irrelevant. She simply wanted to read any article her father had written that she could find.

As she pried herself away from the library, knowing that it was about to close up for spring break, she felt calm, peaceful, strangely serene. She spent her walk to the ACC considering what she was going to do the very next day, when she was back in Texas at her Uncle's house. She was going to confront him about this knowledge. And then, she was going to confront Johnny.

If Irish luck really was with her, like her parents had wished it, then perhaps she'd finally be able to make some sense of these things.

["Bishop to E-4. Checkmate."]

Iroh sighed peacefully, nodding with a knowing smile on his face as his niece's command came through Zuko's laptop speakers. He'd seen that move coming as soon as he'd issued his last command - he'd spoken too soon. Then again, Azula had more or less won the the game two turns or more prior, leaving his King piece trapped in a precarious situation, as it was.

"Yes, yes...You win again, Azula," he acknowledged with his proud, slow tone.

["I certainly did,"] Azula agreed haughtily.

"She...-" Zuko's eyebrows arced up as he sat down at the table, surveying the board. Azula had six pieces remaining, while Iroh only had possessed a King and a Knight at the game's end. "-...beat you pretty good," he chipped in with a nod. He ate a spoonful of his soup.

["Now that we have that formality taken care of, what did you really want from me tonight, Uncle?"]

Iroh smirked running his hand through his beard hairs.

"Wahaha...What else would I possibly want from you, other than to spend some quality time with my niece?"

["Please, Uncle, we just finished playing games. Let's be adults here. Now, what is it?"]

"Always wanting to get to the heart of things," Iroh muttered in amusement, as Zuko continued slurping soup from across the table. "If you must know, I am...somewhat concerned about your expected guest."

["You disapprove?"]

"What reason would I have to be anything but supportive of this, Azula?"

["Zuko certainly disapproves. In fact, he-"]
"I never said that," Zuko was quick to cut her off. "I said I was surprised. We just went over this when you visited, Azula."

["Mm-hm. I received a scathing message from Mai just yesterday. Why are you all so dead-set against Ty-Lee coming to visit me?"]

"Niece, you must understand," said Iroh carefully. "We are in support of you...ergh..-" He glanced to Zuko, looking for the right words.
"Coming out," Zuko assisted.

"Yes, yes," Iroh insisted with a nod despite the fact that his camera was not turned on. "Doing what you want, being who you want to be. I am, in fact, proud of you for taking that step."

["Proud? Fff. Uncle, it was nothing worthy of praise, I simply...had a date to the dance, and did not hide that fact."]

"Mm. In either case, this is not the issue."

"We're worried about Ty-Lee's safety," Zuko sighed.

["Her safety? You don't believe I will take care of her?"]

"No, it's-...I mean, word's going to get out about you two," Zuko explained. "Around here? It kind of already has. In case you forgot, things are a little tense. The people who have it out for us - for you - will have another target to consider using against us."

["Ah, so you and Mai are allowed to have your fun. But I'm not."]

"I didn't say you couldn't," groaned Zuko, his palm over his eyes. "Azula, all we're suggesting is that you're careful. That you keep Ty-Lee safe. Don't do anything foolish."

["Mmm...I understand your argument, but haven't you both been insisting that I...'take life by the horns?' Act freely?"]

Zuko and Iroh swapped shrugs at this.

["So what am I to do?"] Azula wondered defensively. ["Stop living my life, now? This entire mess hasn't stopped you two from gallivanting about."]

"Azula," Iroh jumped back in. "You are still coping with the idea of letting go of your current life. Once you are able to overcome this, then you can truly start making a new one."

["Uncle, I don't want to make a new life."]

"Life is going to happen wherever you are, Azula...whether you make it or not. You are in a distressing time. You have options you need to consider."

["You and Zuko both keep acting like this is some choice. Like I could simply...walk away from this situation! Well, both of you already did, so who does that leave to contain this matter? Me. Because, evidently, I am the only member of this family who remains that has any semblance of responsibility! This is not a decision, it is duty. It is obligation, and I will not tarnish the hard-earned reputation and honor of the Kurosawa title."]

"Azula..." Iroh ran his hand over his balding head. Zuko was drinking his soup from the bowl. To him, this was tiresome. He'd more or less been through this conversation two times in the past week.

["I canavenge Mother's death, Uncle. Now that I understand what happened that night...now that I have the power in my grasp...I can take back what they owe ten fold. By regaining control over the Phoenix Clan, I can correct Father's mistakes, redeem Mother's loss..."]

Iroh frowned bitterly at his chessboard, observing the fallen king piece.

"The kind of redemption that revenge would offer is not what Ursa would have wanted..."

"No, it isn't," Zuko firmly agreed before wiping his lips clean with a napkin.

"Azula, you are not the young woman you used to be. You are more observant and intelligent than you once were, and you have grown such an admirable amount of loyalty to the Kurosawa name. But my-"
["I am not in the mood for your speeches, or your rambling metaphors, Uncle, I-"]
"I was not finished," Iroh snapped, pounding his thick palm against the table. His empty teacup rattled harshly in its saucer. Zuko's eyes bulged wide at his uncle's rare moment of anger. Well, then. This was certainly serious. "If you truly respect this family as you claim to, you will respect your elder when he is talking to you."

Zuko swallowed the lump in his throat, eagerly hopping up from the table to put his bowl in the sink. He awkwardly fumbled around in the fridge as silence carried over from the other end. Iroh's wide nose breathed in a heavy gust and poured out vapors of temper.

"Now...May I continue?"

The few seconds of quiet that passed next were tense. Zuko pulled out a couple of bottles of beer from the refrigerator as quietly as he could, and slid the door closed with his elbow.

["...Yes."]

"Now, then." Iroh recollected himself. "My brother's expectations of you no longer matter. Those chains of duty were broken when he submitted himself to the law. And now our family's legacy plagues you, the way it has plagued Ozai." Zuko walked by, dropping a bottle in front of his weary uncle, who tiredly nodded his thanks. As Zuko used an opened to pop the cap off, Iroh went on. "Do you not see the opportunity that has been laid before you, Azula?" He grasped the cold bottle in his hand. "The quarrel our family has suffered through...it can be put to rest, if only you would allow that. You have come to the crossroads of your destiny, my Niece. It's time for you to choose - it's time for you to end this miserable cycle, to choose what is good." His speech concluded, Iroh watch Zuko uncap his own bottle and sit down at his seat across the table.

["So...-"] Azula's response was staggered, a indication that Iroh's words had left a dent in her mind. Her normally sharp voice was rough-edged, like a knife that had turned rusty. ["You truly believe that after all that has transpired, I can just...walk away from this? Wash my hands of the blood Father has left behind for me to clean up?"]

Zuko reached out his arm, tipping his bottle to his uncle. Iroh sighed, smiled hopefully, and clinked his beer against Zuko's.

"I do, my Niece. I believe people can change their lives if they want to. I believe in second chances."

["Hmph. I suppose we shall see if the way of the world agrees with your beliefs, Uncle."]