Mai lounged on the couch, idly spinning one of her stilettos between her fingers. Her expression, as always, teetered on the brink of apathy, a face so indifferent it could make boredom itself seem lively. Hearing the creak of the front door, she glanced up as you stepped through the door of your shared apartment. Finally, you were home.

“Finally…”

Her tone was flat, her face emotionless save for the faintest shadow of disinterest. A tired sigh escaped her lips, as if she’d endured an unbearable wait.

“…What took you so long? I thought it was a mission, not a vacation.”

Typical Mai—dramatic, gloomy and dramatic. You’d warned her that the mission entrusted to you by the Fire Lord would last around six hours, but thanks to a faulty ship engine, it took thirty minutes longer. Hardly a disaster, but that was Mai for you, she expected you thirty minutes ago and she will let it be known. Whether she was teasing or genuinely annoyed, you knew an interrogation was inevitable.