Chapter Text
Being born into the Fire Nation royal family was far from the best start to my second life. Being Ozai’s firstborn was just the icing on that bitter cake. Fortunately or unfortunately, I wasn’t Zuko. I was born two years before him, even earlier into my new parents’ unhappy forced marriage, with the name of Hiroshi. Ursa was doting and Ozai was not, and my siblings were born as per canon. Zuko was honestly too nice for the semi-feudal politics around this place and Azula generally went with whatever Ozai wanted, which was usually horrible. I was distant from them both. I wasn’t really sure what to do with them, and I believe Ozai actively encouraged that distance.
I was bookish, lazy, and meek, and on top of all that I was a poor bender. Ozai tolerated precisely none of those things. I’ve never been one for extensive physical activity and such things never came easily to me. I was drilled to perfection on the katas, but I lacked motivation for real power and skill. On top of that, my bending came in late. I was fit and I was ahead of Zuko in firebending, but that was all I had going for me. Ozai hid his contempt for my lack of ability less and less each day, and stopped altogether when Mother disappeared after Azulon’s death. I think he was looking for excuses to get rid of me, especially after my failed attempts to connect with Azula to stop her from becoming his mini-me.
Me, being the absolute imbecile that I am, handed him one on a silver platter. At the age of fourteen, I asked my uncle, Iroh, to be included in war councils. I was allowed to do so, despite lacking much of the closeness with Iroh that Zuko enjoyed. I observed and kept my mouth shut, as I was supposed to, as Zuko couldn’t, in another world.
I became well used to the poor planning of many of the top generals of the Fire Nation. Many of the best ones had been ousted by Ozai because of their loyalty to his late father or hated brother. Their replacements were incompetent sycophants who couldn’t plan their way out of a paper bag, even with a hundred firebenders to help them. Ozai was no help in this, he had not studied tactics or strategy, and didn’t much care about the war so long as it didn’t hurt his position.
I offered little during or after these sessions. While Iroh took care of some of the more egregious plans himself, he didn’t offer much else, and I didn’t want to end up like Zuko had. I had begun picking up a reputation, however. Following Iroh around and sitting in on war councils with him made others think that he was grooming me as a general. Considering Iroh’s dim view of the war, I found that unlikely.
Then one day, Zuko joined me. I was fifteen by then, and had gotten used to the routine of the meetings. Seeing Zuko shocked me out of it in an abrupt and chilling manner. I knew what would happen to him, and even if we were distant, I really didn’t want to see him burned, even if nothing quite felt real here. He was just a kid. I just wasn’t sure how to prevent it, not with the contents of this meeting being what they were.
The meeting continued, unaware of my dilemma. One of the generals proposed the fateful plan, pushing a small figurine representing Fire Nation soldiers towards several smaller figurines representing Earth Kingdom units.
“The Earth Kingdom defenses are concentrated here, several battalions of their strongest earthbenders and fiercest warriors. So I am recommending the 41st division.”
“But the 41st is entirely new recruits, how do you expect them to defeat such a powerful Earth Kingdom force?” came the only objection, quickly shelved.
“I don’t. They’ll be used as a distraction while we mount an attack from the rear with General Sanraku’s Corps. What better to use as bait than fresh meat?”
Zuko looked mutinous and the general looked pleased with himself, giving a smug grin. That grin rather quickly faded at what occurred next.
I was foolish. It was an impulse, one I should have restrained and crushed with the logic and reason I had always prided myself on. When I saw Zuko beginning to speak, I stepped forwards instead.
“Ah, general, while I do see some merit in your plan, I believe that-”
I tried to calmly object, except Zuko shouted over me anyways, and I faltered, trailing off.
“You can’t sacrifice an entire division like that! Those soldiers love and defend our nation, how can you betray them?”
Zuko glared at the rest of the room, including myself. Perhaps he thought I supported this buffoon’s plan. I just prayed to Agni that Ozai either hadn’t noticed my words or didn’t care.
Sadly for me, Ozai noticed us both. Zuko was challenged to an Agni Kai for his disrespect, as was I. I had thought, with mingled dread and anticipation, that it meant that we would both fight Ozai and that this would somehow end with both of us scarred and exiled.
But that didn’t make sense, even to my somewhat deluded self. I knew there would be something that I didn’t expect. Zuko’s fight was first, and I observed. It went exactly as I expected it to. Zuko thought he would face a general, got his father, and begged for mercy.
“...and suffering will be your teacher!”
He did not receive it.
Even knowing it was going to happen, I winced, but didn’t close my eyes like Iroh had. His screams echoed in my ears and the sight was one I was unlikely to forget. My first true reminder of the cost of my indecisiveness. I tried to arrest the trembling of my hands as Ozai finished proclaiming his son’s punishment. Poor Zuko was dragged off and I entered the arena, clad in a traditional Agni Kai mantle. I was surprised when Ozai, instead of turning to face me, walked away. I stood there for a moment, stunned.
Then my opponent emerged. It was the general Zuko thought he would be facing. I was bewildered, but I observed the formal ceremony of the duel. We stood opposite one another and faced away from each other, doffing our mantles, leaving our torsos bare. At the signal, we turned around and the fight began.
The old man was slow, his movements were stiff, his flames cool. If he had ever bent fire against an enemy in his life, that day was long behind him. Even my bending was more than his match. We exchanged blows for a time, my style more defensive and reactive than his aggressive one. Every burst of his flame was countered or dodged before he overextended, and I moved in for the finisher. I sent a flurry of fiery blasts that he couldn’t move fast enough to block, one of which knocked him to his knees. I delivered a nasty burn to the man’s arm with my final attack as he raised it to shield his face, claiming victory. The crowd gave some lackluster applause, either too stunned and unsettled by the previous match or too underwhelmed by this one.
For a moment, I indulged in my naivete and thought that that was it. That having to fight some old man was the extent of my punishment. That there was no other shoe waiting to drop on me from high above. Then my logic asserted itself and informed me that I was, in fact, being naive. I didn’t really sleep that night, kept awake by dread and fear. I woke and carried on through my morning routine as normal. At noon, however, I was addressed by a palace servant.
“Prince Hiroshi, Fire Lord Ozai requests your presence in the war room as soon as possible.”
“I will be along shortly.” I replied, face as blank as I could make it.
I knew, then, that this was the other shoe I had been waiting for. I walked to that room like a man that was going to the gallows and knew it. I knocked politely on the door and a servant opened it for me. Ozai greeted me as I entered, his voice somehow conveying a sneer in sound form.
“Prince Hiroshi, congratulations on your victory yesterday. It was hard won.”
I bowed before replying, fear and dread causing a slight stutter which made Ozai’s frown even deeper.
“Th-Thank you father. May I ask why I have been summoned here?”
“It has come to my attention that you wish to contribute to the war effort. While you should not have spoken during the meeting, your...tutoring...by General Iroh indicates that you may have something to offer. As you agreed with the broad strokes of General Bujing’s plan,” he said, inclining his head towards the general I had fought the day before. I hadn’t even noticed he was in the room. My eyes were drawn to his arm, which was bulky beneath his clothing, likely bandaged. “...but had some suggestions on the details, you will be placed within the command structure of the Fire Nation military as a Major General, under the command of Lieutenant General Sanraku.”
My eyes widened for a moment. So this was his play. Major General was a higher rank than expected though, enough to command...a division. I drew in a breath when I realized what his game really was, what he planned to have me do. He couldn’t burn and exile us both. However, there were other ways of getting rid of someone. With that, I knew how my second life would end. I was going to die. Again.
Even though his voice didn’t change, Ozai’s eyes shone with glee.
“You will take command of the 41st division, effective immediately. You leave tonight.”
What better way to get rid of both of your disappointing sons than to exile them both at the same time after giving them just enough rope to hang themselves?