Actions

Work Header

Dealing With Azula

Work Text:

Aang sprinted to his locker. He was already twenty minutes late to his first period, but he had to stop by quickly to grab his binders. This would be the fourth time this month he was late, but his teacher was always extra upset when he was late and unprepared, as opposed to just late.

As he turned the final corner, he stopped dead when he saw Azula leaning against his locker. Her eyes shot up at the sound of his shoes squeaking to a halt, and his fearful gaze met her steely one.

"Late again, hey, Avatard? That'll have to be another detention, maybe on Saturday this time?" she said, pulling the notepad from her vest pocket to write him a slip.

"What this time, Azula?" Aang pleaded.

"Calculus homework, a chemistry report, and a thousand word paper on the military prowess of the Fire Nation," she held out a stack of books for him to take, "by Monday."

Aang sighed and grabbed the books. He intended to protest, but as soon as they were in his hand, she turned on her heel and walked away laughing to herself. Left with no other options, he opened his locker, placed Azula's books in and took out his binder for Home Ec. He closed his locker and headed to class.

Despite his best efforts to sneak in unnoticed, the door was unbelievably loud as it creaked open. The heads of all the other students whipped around to his direction. The teacher stopped mid-sentence, completely silent until the creaking subsided.

"To your seat, Mr. Avatar. Quickly. And no more interruptions," he said finally.

"Sorry, Mr. Bourdain. Won't happen again, I swear," Aang murmured as he scuttled back to his seat next to Sokka.

Aang sunk into his seat as Mr. Bourdain began to lecture again. He droned on about the intricacies of Earth Nation cuisine, the subtlety of their traditional spice mixes, and the correct way to peel a potato. He then handed out potatoes and everyone began to practice peeling.

By the time the period ended, Aang and Sokka had each peeled upwards of twenty-five potatoes. Everyone packed their belongings, except for the potatoes, which Mr. Bourdain instructed to be left behind. Aang was among the last to leave, but as he approached the door, the teacher called him over to his desk.

"Aang, you know full well that tardiness is not acceptable in my classroom," Mr. Bourdain scolded the bald boy.

"I know, sir. I've just been up late working on assignments and trying to become the Avatar, so I sleep in and…" Aang attempted to explain, but he trailed off.

"Assignments? Aang, you're in ninth grade. No ninth grader has enough assignments to keep them up all night, even if they are the Avatar. What's really going on here?"

"I really am doing assignments, Mr. Bourdain! They just aren't mine…" The boy trailed off again.

"Not yours?" Mr. Bourdain asked, "Pardon my French, but who the hell's assignments are you doing if not your own?"

"Azula makes me do her homework. She's in the eleventh grade and, well, she's intimidating."

"The hall monitor? Yes, I know Azula. She can be quite the handful," Mr. Bourdain stood and turned away from Aang, pondering something. After a few seconds, he turned back suddenly. "You know, since you're the Avatar, I'll let you in on a secret. An ability I have."

"An ability, sir? You mean like bending?" asked the confused airbender.

"Bending, indeed. A little known fact is that since all food contains water molecules, a highly trained waterbender can manipulate food items, even after they've been eaten," the teacher explained, "It can be as innocuous as rumble or as violent as flu symptoms. Would you like to learn?"

Aang stood shocked for a moment before he nodded. "It's important for an Avatar to know all sorts of bending. I couldn't pass this one up."

"Meet me after school, this room. We'll train then."

Aang and Mr. Bourdain met after school every day for a week to train. His waterbending practice with Katara had definitely come in handy as a starter course. They started with making watermelons, notoriously high in water content, explode. By the time they reached the weekend, Aang was able to cause an entire unsuspecting class's stomachs to roil with little effort.

Aang arrived on Monday morning confident, even though he hadn't done any of the work Azula had assigned him. He showed up early, no longer kept up late by the extra workload. Relaxed and refreshed after a good night's sleep, Aang strode down the hall toward his locker.

"Hey chrome-dome, how's my work? Better be at least a B or you're getting written up for a whole month," the older girl threatened with a small laugh.

"I didn't do it, Azula. I'm done doing your work for you," Aang replied casually.

"You what?" A crackle of fire lit up in her hands as she clenched her fists in surprised frustration. She stalked toward him, ready to burn the little bastard like a holiday roast when your uncle gets a little too drunk and forgets to take it out of the oven.

But before she could reach him, a hand dropped to her stomach. She felt an intense gurgling as though she'd just drank old milk. A belch escaped her lips when she attempted to continue her threats.

"Something wrong, Azula?" Aang was holding his hands out in front of him like when he was bending and his eyes began to glow as he went into the Avatar state. "I told you, I'm done doing your work for you."

Azula fought through the discomfort and continued her approach on Aang. But her tummy troubles only got worse. The gurgles turned to pain as Aang bent her stomach's contents. With each step, a new pang of terrible gastric distress

When Azula was only a few feet from Aang, he let loose the finisher. His left hand lifted up while his right hand pushed down. The result on Azula was a horrifying fountain of mess. Simultaneously, all of the partially digested food in Azula's body made a hasty exit from the nearest orifice. Projectile vomit and violent diarrhea in the middle of the school's hallway was not what Azula was anticipating for this day.

Once her stomach was empty of its contents, Aang ended the bend. Azula fell to her knees, completely fatigued by the violent illness she had just experienced.

"You'll have to do your own work from now on, Azula. If I hear you getting anyone else to do it, you'll never have a solid shit for the rest of your time at this school," warned the Avatar.

A bell rang and students rush into the hall to get to their class, but all stop and take a gander at Azula as she knelt in her own sick. She had seriously been knocked down a peg.

THE END