Four years

Four years.

It's been at least that long since my sister's best friends left to go their separate ways, the last time I saw her.

She walks in without fanfare, looking for Azula, not me.

My first crush. My first, fumbling, kiss. Possibly even my first love, it occurs to me now.

I turn my head just enough so that she can get a clear glimpse of what remains of my face. Go ahead. Look at me.

Even Mai, she who remains eternally bored, she of the perfect fa├žade, cannot stop her wince in time.

Something inside me quietly dies.