A whole procession led by Princess Azula herself was boarding the ship. They walked rather slowly, even ceremoniously, because princesses must always display their status. So that everyone around could see and fully appreciate that they were beholding the living Princess Azula.
Clothing without a single crease, perfectly tailored to the girl's slender figure; every piece of metal polished to a mirror shine; flawless hairstyle; and the arrogant gaze of amber eyes on a beautiful aristocratic face. An image that burns itself into the memory of anyone who sees her, once and forever.
She ascended the gangway of the ship where her… assistant and companion for the coming operation was already waiting. Her father, Fire Lord Ozai, was sending her to the front with a critical sabotage mission: to finish what her uncle had begun.
Capture Ba Sing Se.
To many this would sound impossible, even suicidal, but that was only the grey masses talking. Who, if not she — trained by the best teachers, master of blue flame, future ruler — could accomplish this task?
Especially with such a valuable asset as this newly emerged "Kira" (note: Japanese for "killer"). Simple, yet striking nickname.
The callsign — or as they politely call it among themselves, "nickname" — originally came from pirates. At least that's what the dossier that reached the Fire Lord himself, and then Azula, claimed. From the pirates it spread to the soldiers, and there it stuck. And that already meant something. Azula didn't believe in superstitions, but even in the dossier it was noted in the margins that a nickname has to be earned and held. Otherwise every second fool would pick something painfully pompous.
The same dossier stated that Kira wields blue flame — very similar to the princess's own, which greatly intrigued the Fire Lord. Combined with the attached reports from school days to his very last mission, her father deemed the man worthy to accompany Azula on such a difficult assignment.
And Azula did not object. She had been taught strategy and tactics, and she perfectly understood how heavy the task before her was. Help from someone like him would not be superfluous.
The dossier contained much more, and the princess had read every line carefully, but she wasn't going to draw conclusions without meeting the man in person. The intelligence network may be experienced, but in such matters it's better to see for yourself.
The problem was there was no time for a proper preliminary evaluation; she would have to decide on the spot whether to take him or not. And only if the decision was positive would she brief him in detail on goals and objectives during the voyage.
Her first impression was… mixed.
She was met on board by the ship's captain, not Kira himself was absent. The reception was worthy of Princess Azula, but it already spoke volumes about his attitude toward her.
Though perhaps it was toward the procession itself. After all, she herself would gladly skip this boring exchange — or rather, acceptance — of courtesies.
"Please, Princess, Kira is on deck," the captain said with an unnaturally wide smile, bowing and gesturing with both hands, then immediately catching himself. "Ah, I mean, my lord…"
"I understood," Azula cut him off, letting a note of irritation slip into her voice.
The dossier hadn't lied. "Kira" had stuck to him so firmly that, apparently, no one addressed him any other way. Though, again according to the file, he was respected immensely.
Or feared. In the princess's mind the two words were synonyms.
Fire Nation ships were the pinnacle of engineering, so boarding was done via a special side ramp that unfolded from the hull, eliminating the need for complicated hoists or loading through the main deck.
So they still had to walk to Kira. Not a problem for Azula. Snapping at her escort to start settling in, she strode quickly toward the upper deck, only now realizing she was slightly intrigued by this man — almost impatient to finally see him in the flesh.
When the last door finally opened and released Azula onto the deck, she saw Kira.
He stood leaning with both arms on the railing, staring out at the distant sea, not even acknowledging the princess's arrival.
With a swift glance Azula scanned his figure, comparing it to the dossier description.
Over standard Fire Nation armor he wore a simple dark-blue cloak with a rather high collar. At the moment it fluttered slightly dramatically in the sea breeze, adding a certain charm to the overall image. On his left hip hung some strange sword, currently pushed slightly behind his back. Even the dossier hadn't discovered the weapon's name, only describing it: thinner and noticeably longer than a standard blade, with a massive hilt and a very unusual guard — not only wider than normal, but forming actual hand protection.
Azula knew many types of weapons. She had to — if only to counter them and to assess combat potential. But she had never seen anything even remotely similar to Kira's sword. From her experience she could tell the emphasis was clearly on speed and precision. You wouldn't cleave armor with it, but you could very easily strike vulnerable spots.
Next came white gloves currently tucked into his belt, but according to agents he always put them on before battle. Clearly not mere decoration, yet no one had figured out their exact purpose. Just like no one understood why Kira constantly snapped his fingers right before summoning flame.
"I told you not to disturb me until the princess arrives," Kira tossed over his shoulder without turning.
For a second Azula froze. How exactly was she supposed to respond to that?
"I AM already here," she emphasized, fighting the urge to hurl fire.
No matter what they said about her, she wasn't going to kill such a valuable asset over one stupid slip.
"M?" Kira made a small sound, pushing off the railing and turning to face her.
Or rather, turning his mask toward her.
The last signature feature of Kira was a rather frightening skull-like mask. He didn't wear it constantly, and he'd earned the nickname long before acquiring the mask, but the dossier had singled out this piece of technology separately. It wasn't decoration — it was a fully functional device. Angular, with strange tubes; one eye socket a full lens, the other composed of three smaller lenses that sometimes rotated. Together with the raised hood, even Azula felt uneasy looking at Kira's "face."
"Damn, it's already eleven o'clock, huh?" Kira groaned in a surprisingly casual tone that didn't match his menacing appearance at all. "Please forgive me, Princess Azula. Welcome aboard. It is my honour to greet you on…"
And then he continued in a completely flat, emotionless voice — clearly a pre-rehearsed speech.
"Memorized it?" Azula asked sarcastically, tilting her head slightly.
"…Yes," Kira admitted at once, visibly relaxing his shoulders. "I absolutely suck at talking to high-ranking officers, so the captain wrote the speech for me at my request."
"And no one taught you as a child how to properly address a princess, Kira?" she drawled venomously, emphasizing the nickname.
"They did. But my master dug up and threw away every grain of that knowledge," Kira replied, clearly grinning behind the mask.
"Hm." Yes, she had read about that master and understood what her new subordinate meant. No grovelling to expect. Nor respect — not until she proved herself somehow.
Outwardly calm, inside her blood boiled. She, Princess Azula, had to prove something to someone?
But hot anger was firmly held back by cold logic. Such people were not rare among the truly strong. Her father was Fire Lord now, not her. Her only personal achievement so far was early mastery of blue fire — which, by the way, Kira did not officially possess.
"Something wrong, Princess?" Kira asked in the tone one uses to ask a friend about the weather, noticing the pause dragging on.
"Perhaps you could at least observe minimal decency and remove your mask before royalty?" she hissed, but kept her icy mask intact.
"Oh, right," said the famed warrior who had over a hundred personal kills, sounding almost embarrassed.
First he pulled back the hood, revealing typical Fire Nation aristocratic hair — though the hairstyle was unconventional: no military cut, just tied back in a small ponytail.
Then, with a quick, clearly practiced motion, he removed the mask, revealing a rather charismatic young face.
Nothing particularly new for Azula — a typical aristocratic Fire Nation face: sharp cheekbones, neat nose, all the usual traits. She'd grown up surrounded by such faces.
What stood out were the eyes. Instead of the usual black common among Fire Nation people, his were brown. Not immediately noticeable, but nothing escaped Azula's sharp gaze.
Like the small, strange-looking hand axe hidden beneath his cloak. She only caught a glimpse for a few seconds as he moved, but it was enough to see it wasn't standard military issue and was clearly hand-forged.
"Well? Like what you see?" Kira grinned with what Azula considered a rather stupid smirk.
"It'll do for an escort," Azula brushed off lightly — outwardly. Inside, flames of irritation and rage roared.
Though for her purposes he was suitable. It would be far worse if he grovelled and puffed himself up. She'd met plenty of even seasoned warriors who, in her presence, spewed endless useless compliments instead of one sensible suggestion — either trying to impress or curry favour for promotion. Impossible to work with.
Conversely, she'd also met daddy's boys forcibly shoved into officer positions who could barely produce a warm spark before hiding behind real soldiers, yet acted like veteran combat commanders and embellished their "exploits" so much that three of them could supposedly take Ba Sing Se in a month.
Of course those were extremes; most were mixtures in varying proportions, but they all tried to present themselves in the best possible light before the princess.
Some probably even harboured fantasies of marriage. After all, she was of age, and many aristocratic girls were already picking husbands. The fools apparently thought Azula was doing the same.
Naïve.
She wasn't interested in any of that. Putting her — Princess Azula — in the same sentence as marriage, pregnancy, and children? Disgusting.
Her goal was to become the greatest and conquer this world, not waste time on nonsense like other noble girls. In that regard she looked far more favourably on commoners, where gender roles had long faded and both men and women served in the army on completely equal terms.
"Do you know the purpose of our campaign?" She narrowed her eyes, staring straight into his.
"Mmm, well… we're taking Ba Sing Se, right?" Kira shrugged. "And if possible, the Avatar too, I guess?"
"Hm," was all Azula replied. The secondary objective was logical, but she had expected to hear what he'd actually been told, not guesses — as a soldier should.
"And of course you have ideas how to do it?"
"Nope," he shrugged again.
"He repeats himself," flashed through Azula's mind. "Either nervous or it's just a habit."
"We'll figure something out along the way. Personally I only know that the city-fortress is surrounded by big walls. But we're not titans to just smash through them, are we? So we'll come up with a plan for infiltration. Maybe stage a revolution — there are always oppressed classes — or just quietly slit the king's throat and say 'nothing to see here.' We'll see."
"Go give the order to set sail," Azula said, turning her gaze to the sea. "Then come back here. Let's see what you're really worth in a direct fight."
"As you command, Princess," Kira smiled, giving a playful salute, and headed straight for the captain's cabin — all emotion instantly draining from his face.
"What an… interesting specimen," Azula thought, squinting after him. "I'll have to keep a close eye on him. I really don't like his flippant attitude toward everything. Or how easily he talks about revolution. And what the hell are titans?"