Ozai probably never imagined that when he entrusted Azula with the task of recruiting Kahn, she would end up betraying him instead.
Nor could he have guessed that her relationship with Kahn was far more complicated—and personal—than he assumed.
If nothing unexpected happened, this matter would have ended there.
However, now that Kahn had entered Ozai's sights, the situation would only grow more troublesome with time.
For the first time since arriving in this world, Kahn truly felt a sense of crisis.
He'd always been aware, at least intellectually, that the world was dangerous and unstable.
But being in the Fire Nation's capital—a city of shining spires and blazing prosperity—had made all that chaos feel distant, almost unreal.
The talk of war and conflict seemed far away, abstract.
Ozai's attention, however, was real. It was direct, immediate, and suffocating.
After all, Ozai wasn't just anyone—he was the Emperor of the strongest empire in the world.
That kind of pressure had a way of sharpening one's will. And for Kahn, it did exactly that.
From that day on, Azula, Zuko, and Iroh often saw him completely absorbed in his Firebending training, practicing late into the night.
"What's gotten into him?" Zuko asked one day, glancing at Kahn, who was drenched in sweat yet still refusing to rest.
Iroh chuckled softly. "Who knows?"
Of course, he knew exactly what had happened.
Only three people were aware that Ozai had taken an interest in Kahn—himself, Azula, and Kahn.
And since he knew, that meant Ozai's plan to recruit Kahn had already fallen apart before it even began.
Zuko hadn't been told, not because of distrust, but because his brother lacked Azula's cunning and composure.
If Ozai ever questioned him unexpectedly, his reaction could easily expose Azula's secret.
Iroh's eyes twinkled as he looked at Kahn.
Ozai wanted Azula to win Kahn over... but instead, Azula's already been won by Kahn.
You really outplayed him, kid.
The old general couldn't help but grin proudly.
Still, Ozai's involvement was a dangerous problem. Iroh knew his brother's nature all too well—ruthless, ambitious, and utterly intolerant of defiance.
Ozai always got what he wanted. And if he couldn't have something, he destroyed it.
If Ozai ever suspected Kahn was defying him, he wouldn't hesitate to take extreme measures.
Of course, Ozai wouldn't dare to act recklessly while Iroh was still close by—that would be reckless, not strategic.
But Iroh couldn't be with Kahn all the time either…
The thought lingered. His gaze drifted across Kahn's courtyard, to the several empty rooms nearby.
Perhaps… that wasn't such a bad idea.
Before Ozai's rise to power, Iroh, as the former Crown Prince, had lived in the grand Crown Prince's Mansion.
After Ozai's coup, however, he'd been stripped of his title and quietly moved out, dismissing his servants one by one until he was left with nothing but a small bag and his tea set.
Now, confined within the capital under a thin veil of "retirement," he lived alone in a modest home near the palace—effectively under house arrest.
Still, he wasn't without leverage.
Through careful negotiation, Iroh had secured certain privileges: freedom to move within the city, access to the palace, the council chambers, even the imperial study if he wished.
Not that he ever went there, of course—he valued his sanity too much for that.
Well, he mused, since I live alone anyway… does it really matter where I live?
So, one day, as Kahn trained, Iroh said casually, "I'll live here from now on."
Kahn paused mid-stance, blinking. "Live here?"
"Of course," Iroh replied, smiling faintly.
It took a second for Kahn to process, then he nodded quickly. "Sure, no problem."
Honestly, it wasn't much of a change.
Iroh already visited nearly every day to teach him Firebending, often staying until dusk.
Living together just made things more convenient—and safer.
Kahn couldn't deny the wave of relief that washed over him.
With Iroh living under the same roof, he finally felt some security again.
Though, at the same time, his motivation for training suddenly dipped.
No, no! I can't slack off just because I feel safe now! he scolded himself mentally.
Meanwhile, Zuko, who overheard, couldn't hide his envy.
"I wish I could live at Kahn's place too," he muttered.
That way, he could train with Iroh every day and hang out with Kahn without restrictions.
But of course, as the Crown Prince, he was bound to the palace.
His schedule was packed with lessons and etiquette—nothing like Azula, who slipped out whenever she pleased.
"What?! The old man's moving in with you?"
Azula's tone was less than enthusiastic when she found out.
She didn't dislike Iroh exactly—but the way he looked at her always made her feel like he could see through her.
It was unnerving.
Still, she wasn't about to show that discomfort.
"Then I want a guest room too!" she declared.
Kahn blinked. "What do you need that for?"
Then, realization dawned, and his eyes widened. "Wait—you're not planning to sneak out and stay overnight, are you?!"
Azula scoffed, rolling her eyes. "None of your business. Can't I just use it for naps?"
You're literally trying to move into my house—how is it not my business? Kahn thought, exasperated.
"…Fine, whatever," he sighed. "There's plenty of space anyway."
And so, Kahn's days fell into a steady rhythm: classes, Firebending practice, trips to the library, and afternoons spent with Azula, Zuko, Mai, and Ty Lee.
The five of them slowly became inseparable—a small, mischievous group at the heart of the Fire Nation.
As for Ozai, he had bigger matters to occupy him.
The war had begun, and with new fronts opening daily, a civilian like Kahn was the least of his concerns.
Iroh, however, grew increasingly tense. He began leaving home more often, sometimes spending entire days at the council chambers.
According to Azula, he'd been attending war meetings almost daily—but she couldn't sneak inside, and eavesdropping only caught fragments.
Still, judging from the heavy expression Iroh wore each time he returned, the situation wasn't going well.
Eventually, though, he seemed to grow used to it—or perhaps numb. His calm demeanor returned, as if nothing were wrong.
But time, as always, moved forward—quiet, relentless, and unforgiving.
...
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