It was never truly quiet in Boiling Rock. Even in the dead of night, when the guardsβ boots faded into distant echoes and the prison seemed to still, there was always sound; metal groaning under heat, the low churn of the lake below, the occasional sharp clang that reminded her exactly where she was. Suki sat with her back against the wall, knees drawn in, fingers curled loosely against her arms. Sheβd long since stopped pacing. There were only so many steps you could take before the space itself started to feel like it was closing in, pressing tighter, smaller. Like a cage inside a cage.
She closed her eyes and for a moment she let herself pretend the suffocating heat was the familiar warmth of the sun on Kyoshi Island, bright and golden against her skin. She could almost hear her sisters laughter carried on the wind and the rhythmic cadence of training. She wondered where they were now. If theyβd made it off the island. If they were still fighting. If they thought sheβd failed them.
Sukiβs jaw tightened, her fingers digging a little harder into her palms. Failed. The word sat heavy in her chest, unwelcome but persistent. She was their leader. She was supposed to be the one who brought them home but instead she was trapped behind iron doors and a scalding, sulfuric lake. Her breath caught, and she exhaled slowly through her nose, steadying herself the way she always had. Panic and regret wonβt help. She knew that. Stillβ¦ they lingered in the sound of Azulaβs voice cutting into her mind.
βNo oneβs coming for you.β Sukiβs eyes opened, staring at nothing. βDo you really think he even knows where you are?β Her chest tightened and for just a second incredulous doubt tried to creep in. The Fire Nation was vast and the prison was well hidden. Even if Sokka was lookingβ¦
She shut the thought down hard, her hand curling into a fist. βNo,β she murmured under her breath. She knew him. Not the version Azula perpetrated. Not some careless boy who stumbled through things and got lucky. She knew the Sokka who stayed up late, thinking three steps ahead. The one who never stopped trying, even when the odds didnβt make sense. The one who crossed oceans for the people he loves.
Her throat tightened. Heβd come.
Suki let her head tip back against the wall, staring up at the narrow strip of ceiling, where no sky could be seen, only shadows playing across metal. βIβm still here,β she whispered, more to herself than anyone else. βIβm not done.β The prison pressed in around her with itβs unyielding heat, its noise, its isolation. But somewhere out there were people who hadnβt given up on her and she refused to be the first.
