Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s impossible to miss, unfortunately. With the snow and frost surrounding it, the red along its edges practically burns his eyes and he stops dead in his tracks next to it. The bold letters emphasise the ordeal in a way that makes it seem personal, like it was put there just to make Sokka’s head grind to a halt. He’s staring and he’s aware of it. He knows he probably looks ridiculous but it couldn’t be real. There was no way the house had been sold.

“Sokka?” Katara asks from just up ahead, having finally noticed Sokka slipping behind. “What are you…” Her voice drifts off and then she lets out a soft, “Oh.”

Great, she could see it too. Then it really was real. Either that or he’s dreaming. He really hopes it’s the latter.

“Sokka,” she says, closer now, her voice is almost pleading, “I understand this must be–”

“It’s fine,” he says flatly, cutting her off, ignoring the way his heart clenches. He’s not sure he believes it himself. “It’s been months, it was only a matter of time.” He forces himself to look away from the sign and starts walking again, not even bothering to make sure Katara is following him as he keeps his eyes trained on the ground.

“That doesn’t mean you can’t feel weird about it,” she tries.

He ignores her, continuing his walk towards Gran Gran’s wordlessly. She can talk if she wants to but he won’t humour her.

To her credit, Katara takes the hint. The rest of their walk to Gran Gran’s is quiet and just a bit rushed, and they don’t talk about it. Not during the walk, not at Gran Gran’s, not back home with Dad, not with their friends in school, and not with each other.

Sokka has always been good at out of sight, out of mind. He just has to pretend like he hasn’t seen anything, and one day, maybe his mind will stop pestering him with it.

A few weeks later is the next time Sokka walks past that familiar blue townhouse again, eyes drifting to it automatically. He stops rather abruptly when he realises that it’s not actually all that familiar anymore. Sure, it may not be all too different on the outside but Sokka can tell how much it has changed nonetheless.

The sign is gone now, and just that tells Sokka plenty. Beyond that, there’s a simple wreath on the door, a few potted plants on the small porch, and a light brown doormat on the ground by the door on which Sokka can just barely make out the word ‘Welcome’ from where he’s standing.

Sokka casts a glance up to what was once the window to Yue’s room. There are crimson curtains covering it, a shade Yue would never decorate her room with. His nose wrinkles at the thought. That is not her room anymore, don’t be stupid, Sokka.

He has to force himself to look away from that sliver of red that stands out so brightly next to the blues and whites of the exterior of the house. He stares at the door for a few more moments, contemplating.

Then he pulls himself together and walks away.

His first summer without his best friend is approaching. The corridors of his school are covered in posters that seem to mock him, posters encouraging older students to apply to organise the Summer Solstice Festival. It’s the summer he and Yue had talked about for years, the summer they’d finally be old enough to sign up as organisers for the festival together. They had planned it for years, in excruciating detail. They had the theme, the stalls, the rides, the events, everything planned out. But it didn’t matter anymore. You had to be at least sixteen to organise the festival, and Yue would never be older than fifteen.

His dad encourages him to do it anyway but he can’t. No matter what Hakoda, Gran Gran and Katara try to tell him, it wouldn’t be honouring her, if anything, it would be taunting her. The Summer Solstice Festival was Yue’s favourite event of the year. Not to mention it was gonna coincide with the full moon. Sokka couldn’t even imagine going to a fucking festival on the monthly anniversary of Yue’s death, much less organise it. He couldn’t fulfil their shared dream alone. He couldn’t.

It’s the last date of application. Sokka doesn’t sign up.

March turns to April, turns to May, turns to June, and every single time Sokka walks past the damned place, his eyes wander to look at it against his will, and he notices new small changes. Red flowers planted on the balcony, a bench added to the porch, the wreath on the door being changed, a light green parasol put out on the balcony, the plants growing in the windows.

Yet it stands mockingly silent. No voices, no music, no crashes, no squeaks, no nothing. He’s never seen anyone leave or enter, he’s never even seen anyone in the windows. It’s different from the emptiness that had taken over after Arnook left, it’s no longer abandoned, it looks like a home again. But the homey atmosphere seems deceptive from where he’s standing, because it’s just as quiet as it’s been since the very moment Yue passed.

For the last few months it has taunted him, looking like a movie set slowly being set up by the side of the road. There are no signs of life inside. And maybe there is none. Maybe it’s just impossible for 184 Tui Avenue to be a home again; to house any true life inside it. Maybe the house simply died along with her.

It’s a late night in June, the moon is full, just like it was on the night Yue took her last breath back in December, exactly six months ago today. The Summer Solstice festival is in full swing in town but Sokka finds himself on a lonely bench at the cemetery, because that’s as close as he’s gonna get to her now, he can’t bring himself to actually visit her actual plot.

Hakoda and Katara had been there earlier but had left long ago. They had placed the flowers he had bought on the grave for him. The white flowers shine brightly in the moonlight, he can see them through the corner of his eye, even though he’s multiple plots away from hers. He can’t bring himself to even look at them properly. They’re beautiful but they’re not enough for her. She deserves better. She deserves the world. Nothing could ever be enough. She should still be here.

It’s been six months since her death, he should be used to it by now, yet he can’t stop thinking of it as temporary. Like maybe, if he doesn’t actually visit her grave, it’s not permanent. She could still wake up. He blinks hard, just once, trying to stop the tears burning his eyes in response to that particular thought

He turns his head down before opening his eyes again. Then he gets up and follows the path in the opposite direction from Yue’s place; the path towards his mother’s all too familiar resting place. His phone buzzes in his pocket as he walks, it’s a text from Katara. She’s asking when he’ll be home and Sokka just stares at the text for a while.

How does he explain to his baby sister that his home has stopped meaning the flat in town that they share with their father and has instead started meaning this quiet cemetery in the outskirts of Agna Qel’a? That the place where he would feel the absolute most home is in the ground, somewhere between the graves of Yue and their mother? He shakes his head and forces himself to take a deep breath. He obviously can’t tell her any of that, so instead he tells her that he’ll leave soon, that he’s just gonna say hi to mum and then he’ll get going. It might be a lie, it might be the truth. And he knows she knows that as well. Katara always knows.

Kya’s grave doesn’t bring the same impossible pain as Yue’s. It’s still heavy but there’s a comforting familiarity to it, reminiscent of his mother’s warm smile and glittering blue eyes. When he sits down in the gravel in front of her headstone, it’s almost like he’s right back in her arms, like he’s nine years old and she’s telling him he’ll be alright, that nothing can hurt him now, because she’s here now. He looks up at the stars, and tells her quietly,

“Thank you.”

Sokka isn’t really sure how long he’s been sitting with his mum by the time he finally forces himself to get up and leave. Definitely far too long because the sky is starting to turn a lighter shade of blue and the stars are starting to dim in it. He looks at his watch. 02.37. He kind of wishes he was surprised but his monthly visits to the cemetery usually ended up something like this, especially since the snow melted and spring came around.

He decides to walk home. It’s a long enough walk that maybe, just maybe, he’ll start feeling like a person again before he gets home and lays down in bed. Maybe he’ll be tired enough to fall asleep. Maybe his head will stop spinning before then.

His feet carry him through the quiet streets without him even having to think about it. He knows his way around Agna Qel’a despite how empty and surreal she’s seemed the last few months. It’s perfectly clear outside but he still can’t quite see where he’s going. It’s not until he’s in the driveway and staring right at the familiar blue townhouse that he realises his feet have carried him not to his home, but somewhere else entirely; a place that used to be familiar but is not anymore.

He’s standing in the driveway of 184 Tui Avenue, and there’s a boy on the front porch.

Chapter Text

Sokka is staring. He knows it’s rude but he can’t stop. The fact that someone actually lives in this movie set that was once a home has something inside him trip and stumble into freefall. It hadn’t quite felt real until just now, he had almost been able to trick himself into believing no one actually lived there. But now it’s suddenly impossible to ignore.

Everything is still for a few moments, the only sound is the ringing in his ears. His head is spinning faster than it ever has before and he can’t catch a single coherent thought. He opens his mouth as if to say something but nothing comes out. His whole body is stiff and clammy and he wants to run but his body isn’t responding. It’s not until the wind shifts, bringing the smell of cigarette smoke with it, that his head finally calms, and although it’s just slightly, it’s enough that he can take in anything at all about this guy in front of him.

The boy on the porch is staring right back at him, probably wondering what this complete stranger is doing standing in his driveway and staring at him at three in the morning. From where he’s standing, multiple metres away in the dark, all Sokka can really say about him beyond that is that he looks to be around his own age and has long dark hair that is tied back in a messy bun. He’s holding a lit cigarette, although he seems to have mostly forgotten about it in favour of staring at Sokka. Sokka can’t really blame him, he’d also be confused as fuck if he was in his place.

They’re completely still for a long time. Sokka doesn’t know how he’s even supposed to begin to explain this. ‘Sorry, my best friend since kindergarten lived here her whole life and I subconsciously walked here instead of going home after visiting her at the cemetery in the middle of the night, didn’t mean to be a compete fucking weirdo, my bad.’ Yeah, probably not.

The boy finally shifts, just slightly, seemingly to pick something up from the bench next to him. Sokka finally snaps out of it.

“I’m sorry!” he exclaims, far too loud for three in the morning, something that is evident on the way the other boy flinches. “I’m so sorry,” he says again, quieter this time, before burying his face in his hands. His knees feel just about ready to give out but he definitely can’t let that happen. This whole ordeal has been more than embarrassing enough for one night without him collapsing in this poor boy's driveway. He can’t help the way his body shakes though. His next words are practically whispered into his hands, “Tui, I’m so sorry.” Sokka is pretty sure the guy didn’t hear that one.

“Uhh… you good man?” asks the guy, a bit unsurely, after a few moments of very awkward silence, and Sokka is just barely shocked enough by the question that he looks back up at the guy. He is standing up now, leaning against one of the columns of the porch. “Are you like…” He mimics the motion of smoking a joint. “Or have you… taken something or–?”

Sokka’s face twists, nose scrunching. “Spirits, no!” Fucking hell, that was too loud again. He slaps a hand over his forehead before dragging it down his face. “Dude, I’m so fucking sorry,” he says with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m really sorry about this, okay? I’m– Look, I was just– I swear I’m not– Let’s just– If I leave now– I mean– I mean, if it’s like okay–”

“Are you sure you’re not high or something?” the boy asks, cutting off Sokka’s jumbled ramblings. “Should I call someone? Do you live nearby? Need help getting home?”

Sokka turns to blink at him, once, then twice. Then he does what he was supposed not to do and sinks down into a ball on the ground, burying his face in his hands with a groan. Tui above, he was gonna have to fake his death and skip town after this. Change his name, get plastic surgery, all that junk.

“Seriously.” The guy sounds so genuinely freaked out that Sokka forces his hands out of his face to look at him. Fucking damn it, he’s holding his phone. “I’m gonna–”

“Please,” Sokka manages, wincing at how broken the word comes out. The guy seems startled by it as well. “I’m seriously sorry about this, just… don’t call the police. Please.”

He looks at Sokka for a long moment from the safety of his porch, face unreadable in the dark. Then he puts his phone in his pocket with a sigh, walks down the five steps of stairs and makes his way over to Sokka.

“Come on,” he says, holding out a hand for Sokka to take. Sokka stares at it for a long moment before he takes it. When he does, the boy immediately hauls him to his feet and Sokka finds himself standing face to face with this stranger that he has been catching himself thinking about since February.

He’s been wondering what kind of people might have moved in here and built this movie set-looking home for themselves. What kind of people it is who never come or go or stand in the windows. Who never yell or play music or watch TV loud enough for outsiders to hear. And now here he stands right in front of him, a new resident of 184 Tui Avenue.

The boy is almost exactly the same height as Sokka, maybe a centimetre or two taller, he has pale skin, golden eyes, and a large, rough looking red scar covers the left side of his face, it stretches a bit down his neck and has taken his whole eyebrow and half his ear away with it. The boy’s eyes narrow, making Sokka’s widen in response. He takes a step back, he had definitely been staring for too long.

“Sorry,” he says again as he looks away. For La’s sake, is ‘sorry’ the only thing he knows how to say? He clears his throat. “I swear I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he rushes out way too quickly, his mind’s racing. “I was just gonna go home but I guess I wasn’t really thinking and my feet dragged me here out of old habit or something and–”

“Dude,” the boy says firmly as he puts both his hands on Sokka’s shoulders, making Sokka’s mouth snap shut again. “I see that there’s something going on with you.” His voice is slow as he exaggerates every other syllable, like he’s talking to a lost toddler. Sokka wishes he had something to say about that but it was honestly deserved, he’s acting beyond strange. “Are you sure you don’t need me to call someone?”

Sokka takes a breath and nods. “Yeah, I’m–I’m fine.” He huffs out a rather mirthless laugh. “I’m just having a night I guess.”

The guy looks at him and Sokka looks down at the ground as he runs a hand back through his hair.

“Do you smoke?” the boy asks after a few moments and Sokka’s gaze snaps right back to look at him. Then Sokka nods. Sure, he wouldn’t call himself a smoker per se but it definitely happens every now and then. Usually when he’s with Toph and/or Suki. More rarely when he’s alone, though he’s definitely been doing that more often as well the last few months... Okay, maybe he's a smoker. Whatever.

“Here.” The boy holds out a cigarette for him. “You look like you need it.”

Sokka takes it with a grateful smile and is just about to get his lighter when the boy holds out his finger with a small flame flickering above it.

“Oh.” He brings the tip of his cigarette above the flame to light it. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” The boy jerks his head back towards the porch, a clear invitation for Sokka to join him, then he turns around and walks back to the bench. Sokka follows him without a word.

“So,” the boy says after sitting down on the bench and lighting a cigarette of his own. Sokka sits at the top of the stairs rather than joining the stranger on the bench. “Did you use to live here or…?”

Sokka shakes his head. “No.” He lets his eyes drift to the street as he takes a deep pull of his cigarette. “My best friend did.”

“Huh,” is all the boy says. Then it’s quiet for a minute.

“I’m sorry for being a creep,” Sokka mutters, still not looking back at the guy. “I really wasn’t planning on going here, just kinda… spaced out, I guess.”

“Dude, it’s fine. This is honestly less weird than when you stop and stare at my window every time you pass the house.”

Sokka is shocked his neck doesn’t snap right off at how quickly it twists to look back at the other boy on the porch. “You’ve seen me?” Sokka asks, unable to hide his incredulity.

“Yeah, pretty hard to miss,” the boy mutters, glancing down at him with a raised eyebrow. “I’ve considered telling you to fuck off a few times but, well…” He gestures vaguely towards Sokka’s face, as if that would explain anything. “You know.”

Sokka blinks at him a few times, trying to process the information. “Fuck,” he mutters under his breath when it finally sinks in. He looks down, feeling his cheeks flush. “Dude, I’m so sorry! It’s just- It used to be Yue’s room and I just–” He cuts himself off and forces himself to take a deep breath. He shakes his head. “She’d hate the red of your curtains,” he mutters before taking another pull of his cigarette.

“Damn,” he says, sounding surprised, yet slightly amused, “please tell her I’m sorry for bringing them into her old room then.”

Sokka huffs out a laugh at that. It turns into a few sniffles. Then he has to bite his lip to help him swallow the sob that threatens to escape his throat. The boy says nothing, and Sokka sends a silent prayer to any spirit that may be listening that he can’t tell how close Sokka is to crying.

When Sokka is finally sure his voice won’t crack as soon as he speaks, he laughs again. “Sorry,” he says as he stands, “thanks for the cigarette.”

Sokka leaves without looking back, and the boy says nothing as he does.

“Where the fuck have you been!?” Katara whisper-shouts the very second he enters the flat. He can’t really blame her, even for him during the full moon, five in the morning is pretty wild. “Why didn’t you answer your phone? Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been? I was this–” She brings her hand up in front of him, thumb and index finger practically touching. “–fucking close to calling the police!”

“Sorry,” he mumbles, voice thick. He kicks off his shoes before pushing past her into the flat. “Guess my phone died.”

Katara follows him into his room and when she speaks again, her voice has softened. “Sokka,” she pleads from behind him, “please talk to me.”

Sokka freezes mid taking off his watch. He blinks hard, trying to actually process it all. But the seconds stretch into minutes and the room is completely still. He’s not sure how long it’s been when he finally sighs, putting down his watch. “I’m not sure if I can,” he whispers, leaning on the window frame.

A hand lands on his shoulder. He can’t even face her reflection in the window, so he looks down. “Go to bed, Katara. I’m sorry for making you worry and stay up all night.”

Katara says nothing but her hand squeezes his shoulder, and that means the world to him right then and there. Then she hugs him, it’s an awkward side hug but it’s still nice. They stand there for a long moment before Katara finally speaks. “It’s okay if you can’t talk to me…” she says, voice barely louder than a whisper. She hesitates for just a moment before finishing, “but please talk to someone.”

He bites his lip and squeezes his eyes shut as she pulls away and walks out of his room, closing the door behind her.

“I’ll try.”

Summer passes meaninglessly enough. His dad drags him out fishing from time to time, Suki makes sure he at least joins the gaang’s weekly movie nights, and Katara forces him to tag along to Gran Gran’s every now and then.

He comes up with some pretty creative excuses to take longer paths to Gran Gran’s so they don’t have to walk past 184 Tui Avenue. He knows she sees right through him, but she says nothing so he can pretend it’s all normal. He appreciates it.

His visits to the cemetery continue but Katara stays with him now. They don’t stay past ten. It’s probably for the best.

“Is that Snoozles I sense coming?” Toph calls out from where she’s leaning against the back wall of building four. She holds a half-smoked cigarette between her index and middle fingers.

“Sokka!” Suki greets warmly as he approaches them, a smile on her face. “Almost thought we wouldn’t catch you before class.” She hugs him briefly as soon as he’s next to her. Then she offers him a cigarette and he doesn’t complain as he takes it with a hum.

“In your dreams,” he says, grinning widely at her before lighting his cigarette. He’s good at smiling so hopefully she doesn’t notice the lack of genuine emotion behind it.

She smiles back at him and he’s glad she goes right back to the conversation she and Toph were having about something that happened at their shared summer job. He considers that a success. He’s not really paying attention to the conversation but it’s nice nonetheless, letting familiar voices wash over him.

He pulls at his cigarette, relishing the familiar way it grounds him. Maybe everything will be okay. Maybe it can all be normal again. Maybe he can at least pretend for a while.

The first bell rings soon enough and the three of them scatter to their different home classrooms. Toph’s a couple of years younger but Suki’s in his year. Sadly, they’re not in the same class this year, but Sokka’s sure he’ll be fine without her.

But then, the universe has always loved to prove Sokka wrong, so why would it stop now. The idea of normalcy is shattered as soon as he walks into his classroom. Amongst all the familiar faces in there, one stands out more than it should do after a singular meeting almost three months ago.

Chapter Text

The boy doesn’t notice Sokka at first but Sokka finds himself frozen in place, unable to move or speak or look away. It’s only a matter of time before his eyes meet Sokka’s.

The noise of a bustling classroom on the first day of the school year goes oddly distant and for a brief moment, all there is in the damn world is Sokka and this boy with jet black hair and golden eyes that seem to be staring into his very soul. Then the bell rings again, and the boy whips his head around to look out the window instead.

Sokka doesn’t move until the teacher comes up behind him and tells him to sit down. He takes the last remaining seat in the room that is, thankfully, in the back, far away from the boy seated in the front row by the windows.

He tries to ignore him but his eyes drift to the back of his head more often than he’d like to admit while the teacher welcomes them to the new school year and babbles about the rules Sokka already knows by heart.

Unfortunately, the first day of school means stupid get to know each other exercises. They’re divided into groups of four and since the universe still hates him, he obviously ends up in the same group as the boy. Except for the two of them, their group consists of a green eyed girl who looks vaguely familiar, and a freckled person he’s definitely never seen before.

“So…” the girl says to the group when it’s clear no one else is gonna take initiative, “let’s start with names and…” She looks down at the question sheet. “What we do when we’re not in school..? I’ll start, my name is Nashi, I practice tessenjutsu.” Right, that’s where Sokka’s met her before. She looks at him from where she’s seated at his left side and he sighs.

“Uh, Sokka,” he says before drifting off when he’s hit with the rather sad realisation that he spends most of his spare time doing nothing these days. “I… watch movies?” he says, mentally facepalming. Oh well, at least he said something.

There’s a beat of silence before the person to Sokka’s right speaks. “I’m Le Zan,” they say, “I spend most of my spare time dancing, mainly do tap but I dabble in a bit of everything.”

“Zuko,” the boy states shortly, gaze fixed on the table as if that is far more interesting than his group mates. It’s quiet for a bit before Nashi nudges him and he looks up at her, looking slightly confused for a second before adding, “ah, right, I… uh, I like reading, sometimes?” Well, at least it seems Sokka’s not the only sad excuse for a person here so that’s nice.

Nashi nods before looking back down at the sheet in her hands. “Okay, so… Spirits, will they ever change these shitty questions?” she mutters under her breath, eyebrows furrowing.

“Uhh… what about where everyone’s from?” Le Zan suggests a bit unsurely, pointing at their own paper.

Nashi bites her lip, then she sighs and nods. “I’m from Omashu,” she says, “but we moved here when I was five so it’s practically always been my home.”

“I was born and raised in the Fire Nation,” Le Zan says, catching Zuko’s immediate attention. “My mum got offered a better position here, so here we are.” They smile a bit sombrely. “Just moved in a couple of months ago.”

“Huh, I’m kind of the same,” Zuko says and Le Zan immediately perks up at that, “though I moved here back in February.”

“Oh! I’m from Shu Jing!” They let out a snicker. “If you’ve ever heard of it, it’s pretty small. Where are you from?”

Zuko looks at them with an almost stunned expression for a bit and although he’s not actually giving an answer, Sokka can see the recognition in his eyes. Then he rests his chin on the palm of his hand and turns his head to look out the window. “Caldera,” he says, voice muffled against his hand.

“I always loved Caldera,” Le Zan says with a small smile and Zuko glances at them from the corner of his eye for just a moment.

“I didn’t,” he mutters, barely loud enough for the group to hear.

It’s quiet for a few awkward moments, then Nashi looks over at Sokka. “What about you?” she asks and Le Zan follows her lead and looks over at him as well. Zuko still stares distantly out the window.

“I’ve lived in Agna Qel’a my whole life.”

Nashi and Le Zan quickly decide to just make up their own questions which is definitely better but still not all that interesting, they seem to enjoy themselves at least, while Sokka and Zuko seem to be mostly lost in it all, sometimes muttering minimal responses, sometimes not. Sokka doesn’t really care. At least Nashi and Le Zan are having fun, they are deep in a conversation about some TV show Sokka has never heard of by the time the bell for lunch break finally rings. They offer a quick goodbye before getting up and leaving.

Sokka groans, the only things he’s really registered during the last couple of hours is that Nashi has a polar dog puppy named Sina, Le Zan has a boyfriend back in the Fire Nation, and Zuko’s favourite tea is jasmine. So yeah, this was as useless as every year, despite the dynamic duo’s best efforts.

Sokka asks before really thinking it through, “Want a cigarette?”

Zuko’s head snaps to look at him. His eyes are wide and with how close Sokka is now, he can tell that the boy’s left eye is dimmer than the right, taking on an almost silvery tone. Sokka finds himself wondering how well he sees out of it.

“Sure,” Zuko says at last, and Sokka is surprised when he feels himself smile.

They walk outside in silence but as soon as they turn the corner of building four and Toph reacts to their presence, it’s impossible to stay that way.

“Who’s this?” she asks bluntly as soon as they’re close enough she doesn’t have to yell.

“Oh, this is Zuko,” Sokka says, pulling out one cigarette for Zuko and one for himself, “he’s in my class. Zuko, this is Toph, the scariest toddler you’ll ever meet.”

“I’m not even two full years younger than you!”

“I was actually referring more to your height but yeah, you’re also a baby.”

Zuko just nods, seemingly mildly amused by the whole exchange. “Nice to meet you,” he says simply to her and lights his cigarette with firebending before offering the small flame to Sokka.

Toph huffs, shaking her head. “Can’t believe Snoozles would bring someone new here on the first day of school.” She takes a pull of her own cigarette and smiles. “But he seems to like you well enough already.”

Sokka’s eyes widen and Zuko looks puzzled as he glances towards him.

“Don’t pay her any mind,” Suki’s voice cuts in from behind them. Sokka swirls around to smile at her. Zuko turns with him, looking no less confused than he did a moment ago. “She’s just like that.” Suki pulls out her own cigarette. “Name’s Suki, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Zuko,” he greets shortly, holding out a small flame for her.

“You’re a firebender,” Suki states quietly, almost to herself, lighting her cigarette on Zuko’s flame. “Thanks.”

“No problem. I mean, no need to waste your butane gas when you have a human lighter right next to you,” Zuko says with a small smile.

“Ohh, so that’s why you keep firebenders around you!” Toph snickers. “That makes sense. Good catch, Sokka.”

“Yup, I specifically planned this out because I thought we needed a human lighter for our smoke breaks,” Sokka says, trying to force every last bit of humour into his words.

Suki frowns a bit, visibly considering for a second before she – to Sokka’s relief – lets it go in favour of asking Zuko about his life. Sokka ends up learning more about Zuko in these ten minutes than he did during the almost two hours in the classroom. Apparently, Zuko lives with his uncle since a few years back, they moved to Agna Qel’a from Ba Sing Se for ‘reasons’, and he has a fire ferret named Druk. It’s a nice enough discussion that Sokka finds himself hoping this won’t be the last time Zuko joins them for a quick smoke during break.

The full moon of September rolls around quickly. The early autumn breeze catches in his hair as he walks down the far too familiar gravel path. What is not familiar, however, is the boy sitting at the bench Sokka usually waits at while Katara gives Yue her monthly flowers. Actually, that’s not entirely true, Zuko is very familiar at this point – they don’t spend all that much time together but they’re still in the same class and Zuko did join them for a smoke every now and then – Sokka’s just never seen him at the cemetery before.

Katara seems to have noticed him too, because she leans a bit closer and says quietly, “Seems like someone has taken your spot.”

“Yeah.” Sokka nods in agreement, unable to take his eyes off the boy. “Seems like it.”

Zuko seems to have heard them by then and he looks over. When his eyes land on Sokka, he smiles softly, and Sokka is caught entirely off guard by that.

“Hi,” Zuko says and despite his hushed voice, Sokka hears it from multiple metres away.

“Hi,” Sokka says as he and Katara stop next to the bench, “what are you doing here?”

Zuko’s head turns to look at the ground. “Heh, just thinking,” he replies, although something in his voice sounds far away. There’s a few still moments before he looks back up at them. His gaze drifts to Katara briefly, then back to Sokka. “Who’s your friend?”

“Oh, this is Katara, my sister.”

Zuko nods. “Nice to meet you,” he says to her before looking back at the ground again, seemingly still caught in his own head and not entirely ready to come back to reality.

When Sokka looks at Katara, she looks at him with furrowed eyebrows. “Ah, sorry,” he says, “Katara, this is Zuko. He’s in my class.”

Katara gives one small nod in acknowledgement before wordlessly slipping away to Yue’s grave. Sokka’s not sure what he’s meant to do now. He could sit down but that doesn’t feel right, though neither does staying where he is. He closes his eyes and forces himself to take a deep breath.

“Who are you visiting?” Zuko asks after a few moments of tense silence, scooting over just a bit, leaving more space for Sokka if he wants to take it.

Sokka bites his lip and stands still for a moment, then he sighs and sits down. “No one really. You?” He doesn’t look at Zuko, and he’s pretty sure Zuko doesn’t look at him either.

It’s quiet for well over a minute before Zuko replies, “No one.”

Sokka glances over at Katara for a brief moment. “I can’t see her,” he says, voice thick and barely loud enough to hear. He can feel Zuko’s eyes on him now but looking back seems like some impossible task; a burden far too heavy for his weak shoulders.

“Yue?” Zuko asks and Sokka glances briefly at him, surprised Zuko would have even remembered her name, much less figured out she was dead, then he nods and looks back at the ground.

“Yeah,” Sokka breathes, “Yue.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah… yeah, me too.”

Silence falls between them once more and this time, it’s not until Katara comes back a few minutes later that it is broken.

“Come on,” she says softly and Sokka stands up automatically. They walk the short distance to Kya’s grave together. Sokka can feel Zuko looking at him as they sit down in front of her grave. He still doesn’t look back.

Chapter Text

“You guys won’t believe this!” Aang exclaims, slamming his lunch tray on the table before taking his seat next to Sokka.

“What’s going on?” Suki asks, slightly concerned.

“Look what play they’re doing this year!” He pulls out a poster from his backpack and slams it on the table. Sokka eyes it just briefly before turning his attention back to picking at his food absentmindedly with his fork, not even bothering to read it.

“Love Amongst the Dragons,” Katara reads out loud. “Wow, that’s a classic! Didn’t think the Drama Club would go that route.”

“Right?” Aang says, practically beaming with excitement. “Wouldn't it be so cool to join?”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Toph remarks sarcastically, “I’m sure the drama nerds would cast you and not one of their own.”

Katara shoots her a rather pointless glare. “Don’t be so negative.”

“Hey, I’m just saying–”

“Toph, I swear to La himself, if you don’t–”

“It’s okay,” Aang cuts in, breaking them up before the argument really has the chance to start. “I don’t even want to be on stage, I just hope I can help with the set. Besides–” Aang points at something on the poster. “–they’ve already casted the three leads, they’re just looking for background actors and stagehands.”

“Oh, I didn’t notice that,” Katara says, sounding a bit flustered. Then she shifts in her seat and clears her throat. “You should definitely join, they’d be lucky to have you.” Sokka rolls his eyes.

“Thanks,” Aang says, smile evident on his voice. “You should help too, Sokka.”

Sokka is pretty sure he must’ve imagined that part but when he looks over at Aang with raised eyebrows, he just smiles expectantly at him.

“Uhh, why should I join the school play?” he asks, dumbfounded.

“Not the play itself,” Aang corrects, then he taps his chin in consideration. “Well, unless you want to, I guess.” He shakes his head, waving a hand in the air. “But no, I mean you should help with the set and props! If we work together, you and I can make this the best looking play the school has ever put on!”

Sokka stares blankly at him for a few moments, but it’s difficult to deny the hopeful excitement on Aang’s face. So he sighs deeply and finds himself nodding. “Fine.”

Aang lets out a shriek of excitement and throws his arms around Sokka before a lively discussion unfolds. No one in their group is particularly big on theatre but Katara is a hopeless romantic, Aang is a history nerd, Suki loves martial arts, and Sokka himself has a bit of a penchant for poetry, so Love Amongst the Dragons kind of hits the spot for all of them and makes for a rather fascinating discussion. Toph, of course, enjoys it as well, seeing as it gives her good opportunities to make fun of all of them in that loving way she always does.

It almost feels normal, so for now, Sokka will pretend that it is. He’ll pretend that he isn’t fighting desperately to keep his head above the water of an unforgiving stormy sea, he’ll pretend that his whole body doesn’t burn with exhaustion, that he isn’t swallowing and coughing up the salty water time and time again, that he isn’t flailing his arms helplessly, desperate to find some kind of liferaft that never seems to come.

At this point, finding Zuko in unexpected places should almost be expected. Yet, Sokka finds himself somewhat surprised when he’s ushered into the backroom of the auditorium and is once again stood face to face with the familiar Fire Nation boy.

“Look what we caught!” announces the assistant president, Taiki, to the room, luckily taking away the risk of yet another awkward staring contest between Sokka and Zuko. “The president of the History Association–”

Aang waves happily to the group.

“And the school’s resident engineer!”

Sokka shoots him a bit of a look but raises a hand in a stiff wave nonetheless.

“Oh my,” says a girl standing next to Zuko, looking a bit shocked. Then she adds, almost to herself, “And here I thought nobody would want to join this weird old play…”

“Well,” Taiki says, shooting her a somewhat pointed look, “good thing the vote took my side then.” He turns back to Sokka and Aang. “Anyways, welcome to the Drama Club!” He nods towards the girl. “Miss prez over there is Zerrah, and–”

“My name’s Aliyah!” a girl with short brown curls cuts in from where she’s sitting cross legged atop a desk in the corner, sewing what Sokka can only assume to be a costume.

“Zeebee,” greets a girl with a short black braid without even looking up from her wood carving project.

“…And Mr talkative next to Zerrah is Zuko,” Taiki finishes when it’s clear the guy won’t introduce himself. He does offer them a small smile though.

Zerrah smiles at Taiki and then turns to look at Sokka and Aang. “Lily and Haru aren’t here today but I’m sure you’ll meet them soon enough.”

“Oh, I didn’t know Haru was in the Drama Club these days,” Aang says, walking over to look at whatever it is Zeebee is making. “Last I saw of him, he was on the earthbending ball team.”

“Yeah, he used to be,” Aliyah says, “but he was at our summer camp and ended up liking it so much he joined us instead.”

Aang nods and then asks Zeebee about the object in their hands which quickly evolves into an enthusiastic conversation about traditional masks used in opera and colour symbolism and what not while Zuko and Zerrah go back to discussing something about the script and Taiki quickly snatches Sokka up to talk about how bending is traditionally displayed in theatre and if Sokka has any suggestions on how to improve it, and even though Sokka’s creativity has been running pretty dry lately, he still tries his best to come up with options.

Sokka finds himself losing himself in it, drifting around mindlessly between the discussions of the room, never really joining in on any of them. He’s asked questions and he answers them as enthusiastically as he can muster, disappointed not a single one of them actually catches his attention. But at least the room is bustling around him, and Aang seems to enjoy himself plenty, so Sokka really can’t complain.

He’s seated next to Aang and Aliyah – who are still, somehow, in a very deep conversation about colours used as symbolism in theatre – by the time the bell rings, interrupting the whole room. Aliyah starts putting down her sewing supplies, Zeebee puts away their knife, and Taiki starts collecting the paintbrushes he’d been using.

“Aaand that means we’ll be locked in if we’re not out of the building within thirty minutes,” Zerrah announces, turning to look at Aang and Sokka. “Thank you so much for coming, you two! Just based on today, I just know you’ll love it here!”

“Oh, for sure!” Aang replies gleefully. “I’m already enjoying myself plenty! What about you Sokka?”

“Yeah,” Sokka says with a nod, “it’s been fun.” They don’t need to know how indifferent he feels about it, that’s for him to deal with when he’s home in bed later.

The regular club members drop out one after another after finishing cleaning their stations, Aang catches Zerrah to ask some questions, and Sokka decides to go offer Taiki some help with cleaning his paintbrushes.

“You know Teo, right?” Taiki asks after a few moments, startling Sokka to look up at him.

“Science Society-Teo?”

Taiki nods. “Yeah. I mean, since you used to be in the Science Society before–”

“Yes,” Sokka cuts in before he can finish, “of course I know Teo, why?”

“Oh, no reason, just.” He pauses for a moment before rushing out, “Do you still hang out with him?”

“Uhm, no,” Sokka replies slowly, “not really, sorry.”

“Ah, okay.”

Taiki looks away while Sokka tries to ignore the way his heart clenches at any reminder of her. After another beat of awkward silence, Sokka excuses himself and heads off, waving to Aang and Zerrah on his way out.

The world is painted gray when he gets out, the sun has mostly disappeared behind the horizon, and the sky is covered in clouds. There’s no rain or wind, just a still dullness. He makes his way strategically towards the spot behind building four, needing to get away from reminders for a moment before heading home.

For once, he’s not all that surprised when he spots Zuko standing there already. He still has to take a deep breath to prepare for human interaction though. Zuko simply nods at Sokka when he leans against the wall next to him.

“Didn’t expect to find you at the Drama Club,” Sokka says casually in place of a greeting as Zuko offers him a small flame and Sokka lights his cigarette on it.

“I’ve always loved theatre,” Zuko says earnestly and takes a pull of his own cigarette. “Seems like we just keep ending up in the same place, huh?”

Sokka nods. “At least this isn’t as weird as the cemetery,” he says with a hesitant smile.

Zuko snorts. “Or my driveway at three AM.” He shakes his head. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d definitely assume you were stalking me,” he says, startling a huff of laughter out of Sokka.

“Hey, who says I’m not?” Sokka jokes.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Zuko replies sardonically, rubbing his chin to add to the act, “something about the way you seem to freeze like a fox-antelope in headlights in every new setting you spot me in.”

Sokka grimaces as he feels his face flush. “Maybe you’re the stalker,” he mutters, feeling slightly better when Zuko snorts again.

“I’m not the one staring through your windows now, am I?”

“I haven’t done that in months!” Sokka protests, even as he bursts out laughing at the absurdity of it all.

“Damn dude,” Zuko replies with a laugh of his own, “you’re right! That’s my bad!”

They laugh about it together for a moment, and it’s nice, albeit a bit strange.

“You do know I’m not actually stalking you, right?” Sokka asks when he’s collected himself. “Like, it’s all just weird coincidences and shit.”

“Heh, yeah, dude,” Zuko replies, taking a pull of his cigarette, “I don’t actually think you’re stalking me. You’d be a pretty terrible stalker, no offence.”

Sokka gasps but his smile doesn’t falter. “Excuse you, how would you know?”

Zuko just laughs again and Sokka takes a deep pull of his half-forgotten cigarette.

“So how come you’re helping out with the play?” Zuko asks, changing the subject.

“Aang pulled me along. He loves history, obviously. Seemed very enthusiastic about the whole thing.”

Zuko nods. “You guys close?”

Sokka laughs softly. “Yeah, he’s like a brother to me.” He takes another pull of his cigarette. “Probably will be one day too, if he gets it his way.”

Zuko shoots him a puzzled look.

“He’s head over heels in love with Katara,” Sokka explains, “they’re technically not official yet but they’re both obvious as hell, it’s only a matter of time.”

“Right, your sister,” Zuko says with a small nod, as if he just went through his mental archive to find where that name was filed.

“That’s right.” Sokka looks at him for a moment. “She’s a bit of a pain sometimes but I know she cares.”

Zuko looks at him strangely before looking away. He doesn’t prompt further discussion and that should be okay but Sokka’s skin itches and his brain screams, it’s been at most ten seconds but it feels like far longer.

“So the play,” he croaks out, feeling a wave of relief wash over him when Zuko looks back up at him, so he continues, “I don’t know all that much about it, could you tell me about it?”

Zuko narrows his eyes for a moment, just looking at him, completely still. Then he nods. “Sure,” he says, taking another pull of his cigarette before getting into it. “The play starts with a conflict between the Dragon Emperor and the Dark Water Spirit…”

It’s nice to listen to Zuko talk about something he’s passionate about, Sokka realises, rather unceremoniously, as the firebender retells the story of Love Amongst the Dragons. He tells it simply, yet with care. It seems like he’s seen it several times in the past, considering how well he knows it. Sokka could stay in this forever, with Zuko talking with thinly veiled enthusiasm and smoke filling his lungs. It's strange but it’s nice and Sokka doesn’t really want it to end.

“…then there’s also some things that are unclear, which is unfortunate but a bit to be expected with such an old story,” Zuko says at last, seemingly wrapping up his roughly five minute long rant, much to Sokka’s dismay. “Some things have simply been lost over the years. Like, it’s said the original reason the Dark Water Spirit hates the Dragon Emperor was much deeper than just being in love with the Dragon Empress, but nobody really knows what it might have been.”

“Huh, you really know your stuff,” is all Sokka can really think to say into the emptiness that is left in the wake of Zuko’s words.

A soft pink tints Zuko’s cheeks as he rubs his neck. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“So,” Sokka muses, just to keep the discussion going, “will you be in the play?”

“Yeah,” Zuko says simply as he pushes off the wall and heads to the trash can to discard his long burnt out cigarette, Sokka follows suit.

“Cool, will you be the Dragon Emperor?” Sokka asks. Zuko looks a bit shocked at the mere suggestion.

“Uhh, no, that would be Taiki,” he replies, heading off towards the street. Sokka trails behind him. “I’ll be the Dark Water Spirit.”

Sokka’s eyebrows rise up his forehead as he stops for just a second. “Wait, so let me get this straight,” he says, taking a few quick steps to catch up with Zuko. “You’re a firebender.” He looks at Zuko who nods slowly, his eyebrows furrowed in apparent confusion. “And you’ll play the water character… and Taiki’s a waterbender…” He looks aside at Zuko again.

“Ohhh.” Zuko chuckles lightly. “Yeah, it’s a bit ironic I guess.”

“How come you guys casted it like that?”

“I mean, bending isn’t usually used in theatre so what does it matter?” Zuko says with a shrug as they turn to walk down the street towards the bus stop.

“But… why?” Sokka asks, feeling a bit stupefied.

“‘Why’ what?” Zuko shoots back, raising an eyebrow in Sokka’s direction.

“Why don’t you use bending in theatre?” he exclaims. “If your actors can bend and it’s part of the story, why wouldn’t they bend?”

“Well,” Zuko starts with a sigh, “to start, it used to be very rare for benders to go into acting, partly due to the fact that in both the Earth Kingdom and the Fire Nation, benders were typically forced into the army or expected to work in law enforcement. This of course isn’t the case anymore but it’s still not very common for professional actors to be benders.”

“Right,” Sokka says with a nod, ”still doesn’t really explain why you don’t bend in theatre these days! They do it in movies.”

“Because,” Zuko says somewhat pointedly, “bending is an art in of itself, one that is particularly difficult to master. Not a lot of people are convincingly good at both acting and bending, so even if an actor is a bender and knows the basics, they won’t necessarily be good enough to play a character who’s a pro.

“Not to mention that bending – especially firebending – can be dangerous. If you put two benders on stage and tell them to act out a fight, the risk of one of them being seriously injured is far greater than in any other sort of combat, especially if the benders in question aren’t masters. In movies, it’s easy to use stunt actors and CGI, that’s not the case in live theatre”

They’ve stopped by the bus stop by now, which is good because otherwise Sokka might have tripped trying to stare at Zuko in utmost amazement. “Okay,” he finally says, “that is… fair. I don’t know all that much about bending so… yeah, didn’t know that.”

“Yeah,” Zuko chuckles, “I could tell. Don’t have any benders in your family, do you?”

“Yes, I do, Katara is a bender, it’s just…” He pauses, considering for a moment before letting out a sigh. “I never really paid it any mind I guess. Aang, Toph, Katara… they’re all naturals.”

“Sounds like you’ve been surrounded by people like my sister,” Zuko scoffs, shaking his head. It’s quiet for a moment, then, barely louder than a whisper, he says, “My father always said she was born lucky.”

There’s a beat of silence, then a car passes, then there’s some more silence. Sokka’s brain starts itching again, slowly but surely, so he grasps the first thought that passes through.

“If a bender with natural talent is born lucky, what does that make me?” he asks, trying for a light tone, it comes out slightly high pitched. Zuko freezes for just a moment, then he huffs out a mirthless short laugh.

“I guess that makes you like me,” he says before looking Sokka dead in the eye, “‘lucky to be born.’” Zuko’s eyes are far-off and empty, nothing but Sokka’s reflection showing in them, yet they seem to be burning and Sokka feels like they’re about to light him on fire along with them. Even though his skin is itching and boiling, he can’t look away.

“...Damn,” he croaks out, “that–that’s harsh.”

“That’s my dad for ya,” Zuko says smoothly, giving a small shrug, finally breaking eye contact, allowing Sokka to breathe again. Zuko rubs his neck. “I didn’t mean to make it all weird, sorry about that.”

“It’s fine?” It comes out as a question despite his best efforts to sound like a normal damn person. He clears his throat. “I mean, I get why you’re living with your uncle, if your dad’s like that.”

Zuko opens his mouth as if to reply but Sokka spots his bus a bit down the street.

“Sorry, this is my bus,” he says. Zuko turns to look down the street.

“Get home safely,” he says simply, looking back at Sokka.

“Thanks? Uhh… you too?”

Zuko smiles at him as the bus rolls to a stop beside them. Sokka gets on, offering Zuko a small wave in place of a goodbye. Then the doors close and Sokka is left with a weird burning sensation under his skin that he can’t quite explain.

Chapter Text

Drama Club may be just once a week but it’s a nice distraction from the rest of his life nonetheless. Sokka spends most of his time there helping Zeebee and Haru plan the set and making props, while Aang drifts around, sometimes helping them, sometimes helping Aliyah and Taiki with the costumes, and sometimes giving pointers to Zerrah, Zuko and Lily who are reworking the script to make it more unique. They all spend time together as well of course but usually only at the beginning and end of each meeting. It’s still far less organised than the Science Society though, which Sokka decides is a good thing, it definitely helps with his weird sense of deja vu at being back in a school club setting.

Sokka, Zuko and Lily usually end up on joint smoke breaks as well, which is nice. Lily is cast as the Dragon Empress and she has plenty of headcanons made up for the characters, some of which are being included in their version of the play. She’s having a blast explaining it all to Sokka while Zuko occasionally chips in with his own opinions.

“My theory is that the Dark Water Spirit has repressed feelings for the Dragon Emperor,” she says one evening, “I mean, he’s obsessed with the dude! It honestly just makes sense.”

“Now that would be something,” Sokka says, taking a pull of his cigarette. “I’d totally be more invested in the play if that was explored.”

“No you wouldn’t,” Zuko says with a shrug, “you just want to see cool fight scenes. A one sided gay love story wouldn’t make you more invested.”

“How would you know!” Sokka exclaims in dramatic mock offense. “Maybe I’m just talking about fight scenes all the time because the rest of the story is so dull.”

“No, you’re just so obvious,” Zuko says, rolling his eyes as he takes a pull of his cigarette.

“How dare you, I have fine taste in the arts.”

“We’re lucky you’re not set to act in the play,” Lily laughs, “not only are you a terrible actor, you also just hate the story.”

“Hey!” Sokka exclaims as the other two laugh at him. “Just because I’m not a nerd like you two doesn’t mean I can’t act! Let me tell you, I trick my teachers each and every day!”

“Hate to break it to you but tricking our English teacher that you really did hand in your homework and he just missed it isn’t really the accomplishment you seem to think it is,” Zuko deadpans, making Lily snort.

“You have Mr. Sung, right?” she asks and Zuko nods. “Heh, yeah, that man would lose his own head if it wasn’t attached to his neck. Had him last year, sometimes we had to remind him of our homework.”

“Maybe I’m just so good at acting that I tricked you too,” Sokka shoots back, ignoring Lily’s statement. Lily just shakes her head, taking a pull of her cigarette, while Zuko smiles at him, a teasing and knowing smile but it’s warm nonetheless. Sokka can’t say what it is, but something with the way Zuko smiles makes him look like the sun.

October brings with it tons and tons of rain. Agna Qel’a would usually be covered in snow by now, but apparently not this year. The weekend Suki drags the whole gaang down to the old city centre is no different than the rest of the week, the rain is smattering down, the sky is gray, and the world is dull and depressing.

“Here it is,” Suki finally calls out from just up ahead. She’s standing at the store front of a cosy-looking café with a golden dragon as its logo.

“Fucking finally!” Toph exclaims, “I’m soaking wet, let’s get inside.”

”We got off the bus literally ten minutes ago, you can’t be that soaked,” Katara mutters as they start making their way into the establishment.

He just barely registers Toph shooting back something along the lines of ‘not everyone can bend themselves a perfect umbrella’ before it all grows awfully distant when his eyes meet a familiar pair of golden ones, one just ever so slightly dimmer than the other.

He and Zuko stand staring at each other completely still for just a moment. Then both of them start laughing, catching the attention of Sokka’s friends as well as Zuko’s coworker.

“What the fuck?” Zuko wheezes, actually wiping his eyes, completely ignoring his bewildered coworker beside him.

“Okay, dude.” Sokka grins and walks over to Zuko at the counter. “Maybe I actually should start stalking you, I’m clearly a natural!”

“Seriously, this is getting ridiculous.”

“Oh, hi Zuko!” Aang says cheerfully from where he’s slid in next to Sokka. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Oh, so it really is Sparky,” Toph says as if she wasn’t sure until just now. Which she actually may not have been – she is actually wearing shoes today.

“Hi guys,” Zuko says to the rest of the gaang with an accompanying wave.

“Right, cemetery guy,” Katara says, nodding to herself. Sokka had almost forgotten that’s the only time they had met, as far as he knows at least. Then he takes a moment, looking at all his friends, thinking about the whole group and–

“Wow, you’ve really met the whole gaang separately,” he says to Zuko who looks at them for a moment and then simply shrugs.

“Classmates?” his coworker asks then.

“School friends,” Zuko corrects, “but yeah, close enough.”

“Well, we’re classmates,” Sokka says, gesturing between Zuko and himself, “the rest of them are unimportant.” He waves a dismissive hand over his shoulder.

“Har har.” Katara glares pointedly at him before turning to the others. “How about we go find a table while ‘the only important person here’ orders for the group, I’m sure he’ll have no problem figuring out what we want.” She shoots him a wry sort of smile before making her way into the café with the others following suit.

“Thanks, Sokka,” Aang says, patting his shoulder on his way to follow her.

“Love you too!” Sokka calls after Katara, earning a rather flippant finger in response. He snickers, turning back to an amused Zuko and his confused coworker. “So, what would you recommend for my dear sister and our friends?”

“Uhh… well–”

“I think some of our Southern Oolong would do her good,” comes another voice from behind Sokka. When he swirls around, he’s met by a rather short older man holding a tea tray, wearing the green uniform of the tea shop employees, and a warm smile on his face. Sokka’s sure his confusion must be showing on his face but the man doesn’t acknowledge it. “As for you, I think you’d prefer our house blend, Red-Blooded Nephew.”

“Uncle!” Zuko exclaims and Sokka quickly swirls back around to catch the embarrassment that must be on his face considering the sounds of his voice. He’s not disappointed as he’s met by Zuko’s flushed and somewhat exasperated face.

“It’s always good to see that my dear nephew is making friends,” the man states casually, walking up to them. “I’m glad he’s getting along with his new classmates.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Zuko grumbles, at which his uncle simply shoots Sokka a cryptic sort of glance as he puts his tray on the counter.

“So are you one of his new acting friends?” he asks, turning fully to face Sokka.

“No–” Zuko starts, then he pauses and exchanges a glance with Sokka. “Well, kind of?”

Sokka snorts. “I thought we agreed that I’d be a terrible actor?”

“I’m glad you finally admit it,” Zuko says with a shake of his head. “No, he’s just helping out with this one play.”

“I see,” the man says, nodding in a way that has Sokka believing he just connected something in his brain. “My name is Iroh, I’m the owner of this fine establishment.”

“Sokka,” Sokka replies simply and the man nods again before turning to his nephew.

“Say, Zuko, I’m sure you want to spend time with your friends. Why don’t you take a break and join them?”

“There’s really no need–” Zuko starts but is quickly silenced by a dismissive gesture from Iroh.

“Now, it’s not awfully busy,” he says, gesturing to the half-full seating area. “I’m sure Kalyaan and I can manage without you for the time being.” He glances at the man next to Zuko who nods shortly.

“I’m sure they don’t want me interrupting–” Zuko tries instead.

“We’d love to have you,” Sokka cuts in with a grin and Zuko glares at him.

Iroh gives him some strange speech about tea leaves and balance that Sokka doesn’t quite follow but it ends with Zuko groaning as he unties his apron.

“This is on Uncle, not me,” he says to his colleague who just shrugs, clearly unbothered.

“I’ll be out with your tea in a bit,” Iroh says and Sokka shoots him a questioning look.

“I haven’t–” he starts.

“Southern Oolong for your sister and the Air Nomad, Red-Blooded Nephew for you, Metal Brew for the earthbender, Ginseng for the warrior, and of course Jasmine for my nephew.”

Sokka feels his eyebrows shoot a bit up his forehead as he blinks at the old man, then he turns to look at Zuko who just shrugs.

“He’s good at that,” he says simply and Sokka nods slowly, still not completely understanding what’s going on but he doesn’t quite have time to question it before Iroh ushers them into the seating area and disappears into the kitchen.

“Sorry about that, if you don’t want me there, I can just–”

“Why wouldn’t we?” Sokka asks as they approach the booth in the corner that the others had found. Zuko looks at him with a puzzled expression but before either of them can explain themselves further, Suki has spotted them.

“Oh, is Zuko joining us?” she asks, and the rest of the group turn their attention towards the two of them as well.

“Seems like it, my uncle can be pretty insistent,” Zuko says, rubbing his neck. “But, if I’m not wanted I can just go out and get a cigarette or something, I don’t want to be a bother.”

“As if!” Aang exclaims, pulling Zuko down next to him while Sokka takes a seat next to Suki. “You’re stuck with us now.” He grins at Zuko who looks kind of scared, which is honestly pretty funny. “So, Zuko,” Aang chirps happily, unbothered by Zuko’s horrified expression, “have you ever tried Air Nomad flour tea?”

“Uhh…” Zuko throws a quick glance over his shoulder before looking back at Aang. “No.”

“Who’re you looking for?” Katara quizzes, earning a stiff laugh from the firebender.

“Well, my uncle can be pretty…” he drifts off, considering for a moment before clearing his throat and continuing, “uhh, intense, when it comes to tea. He fired a man for bringing teabags into his teahouse back in Ba Sing Se.”

Sokka blinks at him. “But he seemed lovely?”

“He is,” Zuko assures somewhat forcefully, “but he takes tea very seriously and I’m not sure how he’d feel about putting flour in it.”

“He should feel great about it,” Aang argues, starting a polite rant about flour tea and how good it is and why it should be more common and blah blah blah. At least Zuko looks pretty intrigued by it, despite his nervous demeanour. Sokka almost hopes Aang brings it up with Iroh now, might be entertaining to watch.

“It is good to hear such enthusiasm in the teahouse,” Iroh’s voice suddenly cuts in and the discussion calms. Zuko turns to his uncle, almost looking like he was caught doing something bad, but Iroh just smiles as he puts down the cups around the table, telling each person what they’re getting.

“Thanks,” Suki says with a warm smile, taking her cup in her hands and gesturing it towards Zuko, “you must be Zuko’s uncle?”

“Name’s Iroh,” he says with a nod as he puts down the last cup in front of his nephew, “but any friends of Zuko may call me Uncle as well.”

“Uncle Iroh,” Aang says, nodding as if to confirm that it feels right. “It’s nice to meet you!”

“The pleasure is all mine.” He smiles warmly at the group. “Please, stay as long as you’d like.” The statement is said to all of them but it’s clear that it’s also somewhat pointed by the way he pats Zuko’s shoulder.

“Thank you,” Katara smiles at him.

“Say, have you ever tried Air Nomad flour tea?” Toph asks with a grin, missing Zuko’s not-very-subtle cutting motions for obvious reasons.

Iroh blinks at her once, then he turns to Aang with a smile, as if he just knows. Which, based on their previous interaction, he probably does, Sokka realises.

“That I have,” he says and Aang beams at him while Zuko practically deflates, clearly relieved. “My son was very fond of it, although I have never made it myself.”

Zuko looks back up at his uncle with wide eyes, the man meets his gaze with a soft smile, while Sokka’s blood seems to have run ice cold all of the sudden.

“Now, I’m not going to disturb you kids any longer.” He takes a step back and offers them a warm smile. “Enjoy your tea.” And with that he retreats back towards the front.

There’s a beat of silence in his wake, and something heavy fills the air. Or maybe it’s all in Sokka’s head because the others fall back into pleasant conversation pretty much immediately, seemingly completely unaware of the ice cold wave of utter wrongness that just hit Sokka. He shakes himself out of it and tries to take part in the conversation. He speaks, he smiles, he laughs when it seems appropriate – but he honestly has no idea what about.

“Over here!” Aang suddenly exclaims, waving at someone at the front of the cafeteria.

Sokka can’t really muster enough energy to turn and see whoever it is he’s calling out for but he has a pretty good guess; one that is confirmed a few moments later when Zuko takes the empty seat across from him.

“Welcome!” Toph greets him with a grin. “Bet you’re glad to sit here, so you don’t have to deal with Taiki gushing over Teo down at their table.”

“How’d you–”

“Oh! I’m sorry!” Aang exclaims, a bit sheepish as he scratches his neck. “Please don’t feel pressured to sit here, you just looked so lost, I didn’t think you had a usual spot.”

“I don’t– or, well, I usually sit with Zerrah and her friends, but they don’t always eat in the cafeteria, so…” Zuko nods towards another table further up the room. “I tend to sit with Taiki when they’re not here and… yeah, he can be a lot.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” Aang says, eying Taiki’s table. “You can always sit with us when Zerrah’s not here.”

“Or whenever you want,” Katara adds and Aang nods.

“Yup– but don’t feel pressured!”

Zuko chuckles. “You’re good. Thanks.”

“Of course.”

“And don’t think you need to sit here a certain amount to be welcome at our movie nights,” Suki says. “You’re invited even if you choose to sit with Zerrah or Taiki or whoever.”

“Right…” Zuko drifts off, eyebrows furrowing. “What movie night?”

“Weekly movie night at Suki’s,” Sokka explains, gesturing towards her with his fork. “She has her own place so we usually spend Friday evenings there watching movies.”

“Everyone brings some sort of snack or food,” Katara adds, “if you can, that is.”

Zuko’s eyes dart around the table, as if waiting for someone to start laughing or tell him they’re joking. Sokka shakes his head.

“Not used to having friends?” Sokka asks bluntly and just like that, Zuko’s eyes are now firmly fixed on him.

“Uhh…” he starts before looking away. “No, not really.”

They all have unofficially assigned seats at Suki’s. Sokka sits in the corner of the couch while Katara sits at the completely other side, Aang technically has the seat between them but usually ends up in Katara’s personal space because they’re insufferable like that, Toph sits on the lounge of the couch next to Suki’s armchair so she can hear both her and Sokka’s commentary, and Zuko pretty much immediately adopts the mostly unoccupied space next to Sokka on the couch – mostly because he had stood looking like a lost toddler on his first movie night so after a few minutes of that, Sokka took pity on him and pulled him down on the couch, but it stuck nonetheless.

Three weeks in and it’s as if Zuko has always been there. And isn’t that strange? How Zuko fills that spot so easily, how normal it feels. It's only been a few weeks and Sokka’s already used to it. Meanwhile, it’s been almost a year since her, and he still needs to remind himself first thing every morning – when he goes to text her good morning – that she’s not there.

Zuko’s hand brushes against Sokka’s bare arm for a split second, pulling him out of his thoughts. Sokka glances aside at him but he seems very concentrated on the movie. Sokka chooses to ignore the strange tingling sensation the contact left on his skin.

Chapter Text

During Zuko’s integration into the gaang, many interesting things about him come up.

From the way he and Katara talked about romance novels, it’s blatantly obvious that he’s a romantic at heart, although he’s clearly a bit embarrassed of this prospect of himself. Katara and Aang are good at making him feel slightly more comfortable. Problem is that Toph is good at doing the opposite, the gremlin that she is.

“There’s just something so special about love at first sight,” Katara had said wistfully one day when she sat down at their table in the cafeteria. Aang had nodded in agreement while doing those lovey doe eyes at her like he often did.

Sokka was already bored. “Isn’t that a bit overdone?” Sokka asked.

“I mean, it’s a classic.” Zuko shrugged. “It’s cheesy but I don’t know… it’s special.”

“Does that mean I can never have anything special!?” Toph had exclaimed then, sounding utterly insulted. “Spirits Zuko, I had expected something like that from Katara but I did not expect you to mock the blind like that!”

Katara had rolled her eyes, calling her obvious bluff, Aang had reached out to pat her arm on the table in a ‘there there’ gesture, and Zuko had looked absolutely horrified.

“She’s just trying to get into your head,” Katara assured him. Zuko didn’t look the slightest bit comforted.

“As if!” Toph pushed on, “I am deeply disappointed in you, Sparky.”

“I’m sorry–”

“She’s seriously not serious,” Sokka cut him off and Zuko looked back and forth between the group until Toph cracked at his tense posture and started laughing.

“You should sense yourself!” she laughed, punching Zuko’s arm.

“She just thrives on others' misery,” Katara said to Zuko as the earthbender continued to wheeze at his discomfort.

“You have no sense of humour, Sugar Queen!”

“Just lay off Zuko,” Sokka muttered, feeling oddly agitated. “He’s uncertain enough as it is, don’t want to scare him off, do you?”

“Fine, but he has to lighten up at some point.”

“Don’t worry Zuko,” Katara said with a shake of her head, “that’s how she shows affection.”

“That, or she hits you,” Aang chipped in with a raised finger.

Toph grinned at Zuko. “And I just did both! You should feel honoured.”

He still hadn’t looked entirely convinced but he offered a small smile accompanied by, “Uhm… thanks?”

“You’re welcome.”

Katara had sighed and gone back to telling the table about her book, Toph called it (and her) lame, Aang showed genuine interest, Sokka barely paid attention, and Zuko didn’t contribute much to the rest of the conversation.

Still, being mocked and punched by Toph was a sign that she liked him. And Katara trying to reassure him was also a good thing. So Sokka still considered that interaction a win.

Zuko was definitely full of surprises. Like that one day when he had shocked Sokka as they were waiting for Suki at the dojo, by revealing he used to go to swordsmanship summer camps as a kid, when he still lived in the Fire Nation.

“Excuse you?” Sokka gaped at him. “What the fuck are you Fire Nation people doing? Sending children to practice swordsmanship during summer? Seriously?”

Zuko shrugged. “It was fun.” He nodded towards a set of twin swords displayed on the wall in the hallway. “I was always a fan of dual broadswords.”

Sokka had stared at the swords for a moment before looking back at the firebender. “That is unbelievably cool.”

Zuko’s cheeks tinted a pale pink as he looked away, waving a dismissive hand. “It’s really not that cool, I wasn’t even that good–”

“After doing it every summer for how many years did you say?”

“Uhh… five?”

Sokka hummed, pursing his lips. “Yeah, sorry, I don’t believe you,” he said with a shake of his head. “You’re probably pretty good.”

“I guarantee you, I am not.” He glanced at the swords on the wall again. “At least not anymore,” he added quietly, rubbing a bit absently at his chest.

Sokka had looked at him for a long moment, taken in the far off look in his eyes and the way his hand seemed to circle something under his shirt. “Are you okay?” he asked at last, startling Zuko to look back at him.

“Yes.” He didn’t even try to sound convincing. “It’s been a long time,” he explained with a low voice, “stuff has happened since.”

Sokka nodded. He couldn’t really argue with Zuko when he wasn’t sure what had happened, could he? “How long has it been?” he asked instead. Zuko looked at him for a long moment, studied his face and eyes. Then he sighed.

“I was at my last camp when I was thirteen.”

“So…” Sokka tilted his head to the side. “That’s a bit over three years ago, that’s not–”

“Four,” Zuko corrected, “actually.”

Sokka frowned. “But you’re my age?”

Zuko looked away again and chewed on his lip for a moment, then shook his head. “No, I, uhh… I had to be held back a grade cause I couldn’t go to school for… well, most of last year.”

Then Sokka had stared at Zuko for a bit. His shoulders were raised almost to his ears and the way he looked down made him look smaller. He seemed all sorts of nervous – hell, if Sokka didn’t know better he’d even say the guy looked scared – like he had just revealed he had just accidentally let a mass murderer go or something and was waiting for the consequences. Sokka wouldn’t have that.

It was clearly a touchy subject, and if it was one thing he and Zuko seemed to have in common, it was that they were both rather reticent. “I see, so you’re seventeen then?” Sokka asked simply and Zuko nodded shortly. “Cool, that makes you the oldest in the gaang.”

“I’d uhh… I’d rather you didn’t tell anyone,” he said, still sounding a bit self-conscious.

“I won’t,” Sokka assured him, “although I promise you, none of us would judge you for it.”

Zuko smiled a bit hesitantly. “So you don’t think I’m like… stupid, then?”

Sokka chuckled at that. “Nah, not over you being held back a grade.” He let a mischievous smile slip onto his face. “Maybe over the fact that you can’t do basic geometry, but that’s a different story.”

“It’s not my fault triangles make no sense!” Zuko exclaimed, frustrated but also clearly in on the joke, based on the glint in his eyes.

“I’m telling you again,” Sokka grinned, “they’re really not that much more complicated than rectangles.”

“Maybe geometry is just bullshit all together,” Zuko muttered and Sokka laughed.

“Hey, what if I tutor you in geometry and you tutor me in swordsmanship?” Sokka suggested, earning an unimpressed look from the firebender.

“Did you not listen?”

“Awe, come on, I’m sure you’ve still got it!”

Zuko shook his head with a sigh. “Maybe another day, nerd.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“You better help me study before the next test,” Zuko said, crossing his arms, “then we can talk.”

Sokka did a slight triumphant fist pump. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Another thing of note was that Zuko really hadn’t been kidding when he said he wasn’t used to having friends. Sokka supposed it made sense, considering how the guy always seemed to walk on eggshells, ready to be disposed of, which was pretty sad.

Apparently, the first friend Zuko ever made outside his family was when he moved to Ba Sing Se at thirteen. Again, pretty sad.

“I honestly don’t even know why he took interest in me,” Zuko had explained with a shrug. “He had other friends, and I never really hung out with them.”

“Maybe he could just tell you were a cool dude?” Sokka had suggested and Zuko had laughed.

“Yeah, no.” He took a pull of his cigarette and shook his head. “Jet wasn’t like that. Always on high alert and seldom let his guard down.”

“A bit like you then,” Toph had chipped in out of nowhere, making Zuko jump.

“Agni!” he exclaimed, swirling around to look at her. “Where the fuck did you come from?”

“My father’s balls,” she replied nonchalantly, “like everyone else.” She pulled out a pack of cigarettes from her pocket and continued, completely ignoring how utterly appalled Zuko had clearly been by her statement, “I’m just saying, maybe you were just two peas in a pod. Hey, some fire would be nice.”

“Uhh, right.” He brought a small flame to the tip of her cigarette.

She nodded a small thanks and brought the cigarette to her lips. “So do you keep in touch with him?”

Zuko had stared at her with something near terror in his eyes. “My dad?”

“Jet,” she clarified and Zuko sighed with what could only be relief.

“Right. That… makes more sense.” He took a deep pull of his cigarette and blinked ever so slowly. “No, I don’t. He has friends back in the city, he doesn’t need me.”

Sokka frowned at him. “But… his other friends aren’t you.”

Zuko had simply shrugged. “Does it matter?”

“Of course it does!?” Sokka exclaimed, utterly baffled. “You think I could just– that one can just replace– that–” He stopped himself, biting his lip and shutting his eyes. His stupid thoughts had tried to drift right into that gaping wound inside him but he couldn’t let them. He just had to dive down to catch them real quick.

Thankfully, Toph cut in then, “Do you miss him?”

“I mean… maybe?” Zuko replied, a bit agitated. “I don’t know.”

“I think you do,” she said knowingly. “You may have new friends here, but we’re not him. And his friends back in Ba Sing Se aren’t you.”

It had been silent for more than a few seconds before Zuko mumbled, “I suppose that makes sense.”

“Besides,” Sokka chipped in when he finally looked back up, trying for a light tone as he flashed what he hoped to be a winning smile. “Who wouldn’t miss your pretty face?”

Zuko’s eyes had gone wide as his face flushed. “I’m– Well– I’m not sure– I–” he spluttered before looking away and clearing his throat. “I mean, uhh… thank you?”

“Awe,” Toph cooed, “does Snoozles have a crush?”

Sokka levelled her with a look before realising she couldn’t see it – hey, it’s the thought that counts. “Har har,” he grumbled instead as she grinned at him all insufferable. “I’m just putting it out there. I know you wouldn’t know but this guy looks great.”

“Maybe you’re just blinded by love!”

Sokka rolled his eyes. “Awe, jealous I called someone else pretty?” he asked with the most sardonically sweet voice he could muster. “Would it make you feel better if I said you also have a pretty face?”

“Eww!” Her nose scrunched up. “Please don’t.”

Sokka took the risk of ruffling her hair and laughed at the way she outright punched his forearm to get it away from her, even though it had hurt. It was nice to hear Zuko join in on the laughter as well, even with how careful it had been. Good, having the guts to laugh at Toph was definitely a step in the right direction.

For a long time, game night had been a Sokka and Suki thing. Of course, Toph was rather unimpressed by most video games, while Aang preferred board games, and Katara just said she was ‘busy’ (which was really just her way of excusing it since she didn’t want to admit she was a terrible loser). But then they mentioned game night to Zuko and he immediately seemed interested. So, that evening the three of them found themselves scattered across Suki’s living room floor while playing pretty much any multiplayer game Suki had on her switch.

Of course, they had opened Smash Bros at one point, which was always a humbling experience with Suki, to say the least. Suki played as Palutena, because she always did, Zuko had gone for Pikachu, and Sokka’s R.O.B. had long since died, so he had taken his seat in the corner of the couch and just watched the two of them fight.

Sokka wasn’t exactly good at Super Smash Bros. He liked it, it just confused him. But Suki was pretty much a master, so playing against her was a bit unfair. Then, Zuko kept up with her pretty well for a while, to the extent that Sokka had thought he might actually have a shot at winning. But of course, Suki was the King of Smash, and that wouldn’t change anytime soon.

“Damn it!” Zuko had shouted when Suki finally knocked him out.

“And you were so close!” Sokka exclaimed.

Suki polished her nails on her shirt. “Sorry boys, the king has got to defend her throne,” she said nonchalantly.

“Not fair!” Sokka shot back. “You always win!”

“Exactly.” She turned to smile at him from where she was still seated on the floor. “I remain undefeated, as it should be.”

Sokka glared at her as Zuko sighed and leaned back to rest his back against the couch. “Good match,” he said, “that was fun.”

Suki nodded. “Yeah, it really was. It was nice to actually fight someone who knows what they’re doing.” She gestured towards Sokka. “Not like Sokka here–”

“Rude.”

“–who barely knows the controls.”

Zuko chuckled and looked over at Sokka. He looked so genuinely joyful that Sokka was almost willing to forgive him for laughing at his incompetence. Almost. “Seriously though, Sokka, what the fuck were you even doing?”

“I don’t know!” he had exclaimed. “This game makes no damn sense to me. It’s all just stupid.”

“Could you seriously not find the jump button?”

“It should be A!”

Zuko had then given him an absolutely baffled look. “Wha– Why–”

“Let it go, Zuko,” Suki laughed, “we’ve had this argument for years! Me and…” She drifted off, and Sokka knew exactly what she wasn’t saying as she lost all steam and her face fell into a more sombre expression.

Zuko looked between Suki’s hesitant smile and whatever fazed expression was on Sokka’s face, then he looked back to the TV. There had been a few tense moments of silence when Suki cleared her throat.

“So!” She clapped her hands, trying to be up-beat. “Can I interest you in a friendly game of Mario Kart?”

“Sure,” Zuko had answered and Suki immediately clicked out of Smash and opened Mario Kart.

“I think I’ll sit this one out,” Sokka said, leaning back where he sat on the couch. “But I’m hoping for you, Zuko.”

“That’s not a thing you say,” he stated, sounding just a bit bemused. “Don’t you mean you’re rooting for me? Or believe in me?”

“Sure I could say I’m rooting for you, but that’s boring. As for believing in you…” Sokka shook his head. “Well, she’s probably gonna win. One can hope but believing anything else would just be stupid.”

“You’ll learn.” Suki grinned at the slightly baffled firebender before swiftly going to the character menu, claiming Dry Bones in a millisecond.

“I take it you’re the gamer of the group?” he asked, selecting Shy Guy without a second thought.

“You could say that,” she replied as she started a race on Rainbow Road. “But I could never beat Sokka in a strategy based game, like Age of Empires.”

“Awe, you flatter me Sooks,” Sokka chirped in a slightly exaggerated voice.

“Oh, we are so playing Age of Empires together another day,” Zuko stated matter-of-factly.

Sokka grinned. “You are so on.”

“Hah, this I want to see,” Suki muttered as she shot a red shell at Toad and proceeded to pass him. “Zuko, if you beat him, I’ll tell you an embarrassing fact about myself, and one about Sokka, as a bonus.”

“And I’ll let you change your name in my phone to whatever you want,” Sokka added, “as a treat.”

Zuko snorted at that. “Okay, and if you win?”

“Uhh… I feel like I should also be allowed to pick my name in your phone.”

“Uh-huh.” Zuko nodded. “Anythi– Fuck!” he yelled as Suki’s blue shell struck him.

“Haha, sucker,” she snickered as she passed him.

“Anything else?” he grumbled.

Sokka had thought for a few moments. It was a bit tricky to think of something he wanted from Zuko beyond those sword fighting lessons, and he already had a potential deal on those. Well, maybe he’d like to hear his entire backstory but he wasn’t gonna pry like that.

“Hmm…” He observed Zuko's back for a few moments, watching his long black hair fall down his back like a dark, silky waterfall. “Could I braid your hair?”

Zuko had slipped right off the road at that, completely losing his momentum for a split moment. “I… uhm, sure?” he replied as he scrambled to catch up again. “I really thought you were gonna ask for something more…”

“Thematic?” Suki suggested when Zuko had drifted off, suddenly very engrossed in the game.

“Yeah,” he agreed with a short nod, “that.”

Sokka felt a bit embarrassed then. Was it really that weird to ask? “You really don’t have to agree if it would make you uncomfortable–”

“No, it’s fine. That sounds nice– fair. It sounds fair.”

Suki just barely stifled a laugh from beside Zuko but Sokka couldn’t see his face so he just frowned.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “I don’t want to–”

“I’m sure,” Zuko chuckled while sounding just slightly panicky, “rather that than like… prying Uncle for childhood stories about me or something.”

“I mean… fair enough.”

Suki had, to no one’s surprise, won Mario Kart without breaking a sweat. Sokka joined them again for a few hectic rounds of Overcooked. Then Zuko ended up beating Suki in a round of Ultimate Chicken Horse which both Sokka and Suki had applauded him for. Safe to say, Zuko was a welcome addition to game night.

Chapter Text

Last night, Sokka, Zuko, and Suki played Age of Empires and Sokka won. He usually does, these days. Yue had always been good at it. They kept score and in the end, Yue had two more wins than Sokka. But he really shouldn’t dwell on that so he won't. Definitely won’t. Especially not right now because right now he really should get out of his stupid bed and get dressed before Zuko gets here.

But then he has to get up and walk over to his wardrobe and choose what to wear and get out of his pyjamas and put on his day clothes and honestly? He’s getting tired just thinking about it. Would it be bad if he just stays in pyjamas for the day? Can he have a guest over while in pyjamas? Is that something Katara would disapprove of, had she been home? Probably. But then, she’s not home, so who’s gonna stop him? They were newly washed anyway, it’s not that bad, probably.

Still, he should at least get up and brush his teeth, maybe fix his hair. Actually, fixing his hair sounds like too much, he could just brush it real quick, it doesn’t need to be tied up. So… he needs to get up. He lays still for a few more moments.

“Okay,” he mutters to himself when just thinking didn’t work, “get up.”

Okay, so that didn’t work either. What can he do to force his body to cooperate with him? He tries slapping himself a few times, because apparently his arms still work just fine. That doesn’t help either but at least there’s a burning sensation on his face now so that’s nice.

In the end, he texts Suki, just telling her to tell him that he needs to get up. She does because she’s nice like that and while his body still kind of feels like it weighs a ton, he actually manages to get up and brush his teeth. Then he stands staring in the mirror for five minutes before he actually does brush his hair.

He decides he really can’t be bothered to tie it up but when he gets back in his room, he manages to convince himself he should change. He pulls on a greyish blue jumper and a pair of slackers because honestly, it’s Sunday, he can be laid back.

Okay, good, got dressed, what now?

“Food,” he thinks out loud and leaves his room to get something to eat. Then he stops in the kitchen because making food sounds really annoying so he just gets a bowl of blueberry-vanilla yoghurt. Who cares if it’s two in the afternoon, he’ll survive without a proper lunch. Breakfast at two PM is great.

Luckily, he doesn’t have too much time to eat in silence while staring blankly at the turned off TV before Zuko rings the doorbell.

“‘Ello,” Sokka greets when he opens the door. Zuko doesn’t say anything at first, he just stares at him, looking oddly awestruck.

“You let down your hair,” he states at last.

Sokka chuckles a bit as he steps aside to let him in. “Yeah, I…” Actually, does he want to explain that his arms seemed to weigh a ton and that raising his hands above his head for the maybe twenty second it would take to tie it up felt like an impossible task? No, not really. So, he finishes with, “...did.”

Zuko nods as he kicks off his shoes. “You– It looks good. Fits you.”

“Thanks.” Sokka turns to walk back towards the living room as Zuko hangs his coat. “I’m home alone so no Katara to give me pointers as if I’m not better at braiding hair than she is.”

“Cool,” Zuko responds, following him. “Your dad isn’t home either?”

“Nah.” Sokka shakes his head as he flops down on the couch and resumes his sad meal. “He’s on a work trip in Bin-Er. Coming home in a few weeks.”

Zuko nods as he sits down on the couch. He looks around the room for a few moments before he speaks again. “Are those framed Pai Sho tiles?” he asks with a strangely offput expression on his face.

“Yeah, do you play?”

Zuko’s nose scrunches up. “Spirits no.”

Sokka stares at him for a few moments. “Why do I feel like you have pent up aggression against Pai Sho?”

Zuko glances at him, almost suspiciously. “Uncle plays,” he says shortly.

Sokka immediately perks up a bit at that. “Oh, can I play with him some day?” he asks with a smile.

“By all means, go ahead,” Zuko mutters, “hopefully he’ll stop pestering me about it then.”

“What do you have against Pai Sho?” Sokka quizzes, putting his now empty bowl down on the coffee table.

“Why do you like it?” Zuko shoots back. “It’s such an old people game.”

“Maybe I’m an old soul,” Sokka sighs dramatically, “far too old for these young bones of mine.” Zuko snorts so Sokka shoots him a disapproving look. “Respect your elders, young man.”

“You’re a year younger than me,” Zuko points out with an amused grin.

Sokka sniffs and clasps a hand over his heart. “Not in my heart.”

Zuko snickers. “Whatever you say, old man.”

He smiles and pushes himself off the couch. “I’ll be right back,” he explains before Zuko can ask, “just gonna get a brush and some hair ties.”

He quickly makes his way to his room to find those satin hair ties in different shades of blue he has laying around. In the beginning, the mere sight of them in the bathroom cupboard had made him nauseous, so he hid them away in his desk drawers instead. A few months later, he had started to bring them out for comfort. Now, almost a year in, they just frustrated him. He can’t wear them himself but they’re pretty, and also stupid.

So he digs them out from under all the bunch of random knick knacks he keeps in the bottom drawer. He looks at them for a few moments before forcing himself out of it. He heads to the bathroom across the hall and grabs his hairbrush, then he returns to Zuko in the living room.

“Are you okay with sitting on the floor?”

“Sure,” Zuko says, “where–?”

“Just in front of the couch is good,” Sokka says and Zuko slides down to the floor. Sokka sits down on the couch right behind him. “Which of these do you want?” he asks, holding the set of hair ties in front of Zuko.

“Oh, uhm…” Zuko observes them for a few moments before pointing to the dark violet-ish blue. “That?”

Sokka nods and pulls it off the piece of cardboard to put it around his wrist.

“So have you thought of what you’re gonna name yourself yet?” Zuko asks as Sokka starts brushing his hair.

“Hmm… I have a few ideas.” He puts down the brush and runs a hand through Zuko’s silky soft hair. “You have really nice hair,” he murmurs.

“Oh. Thank you.”

Sokka hums as he starts gathering some hair near the firebender’s right temple. “I’m thinking I’ll do a side braid, I think it would suit you.”

“Go ahead.”

They sit in silence for a few minutes as Sokka carefully braids Zuko’s hair, weaving in more and more hair as he goes. Sokka’s always enjoyed braiding hair, he finds it oddly soothing. He used to help Katara with her hair all the time when they were kids, especially after their mum died.

Zuko’s hair is a lot smoother than Katara’s, almost slippery, making it a bit closer to Yue’s texture, although hers was definitely a bit more shapeable than his. Not to mention that her hair was white as snow whereas Zuko’s is an inky black. Still, it reminds him of her all the same. Which is not where he hoped his mind would take him but–

A wave washes over him, forcing him under water. He flails his arms, trying desperately to find something to hold onto but there is nothing and it’s so cold. Is he ever going to breathe fresh air again or will every breath he takes for the rest of his life be mixed with seawater? Spirits, he really is completely–

“Are you okay?” Zuko asks, ever so cautiously but still somehow loud enough for him to hear through the water.

Sokka has to blink a few times to really come back to the moment. Then he realises his vision is blurred with tears and his hands have completely stilled right above Zuko’s nape. At least he hasn’t dropped his hair. Still, this…

He swallows hard and then fails to suppress a sniffle. “Yeah, I’m–” he croaks out, his voice betraying him, “I’m fine.” He resumes his braiding, slowly but surely, trying to concentrate at the movement of his fingers and not let his thoughts drift away.

“Sokka,” Zuko starts after a beat of silence and Sokka doesn’t even have to see his face to know he’s frowning. “You don’t have to lie to me.”

“I–” He breathes out a wet laugh. “I’m fine. It’s just–” He takes a deep breath. “I used to braid her hair,” he says at last, voice a barely audible murmur.

There’s maybe thirty seconds of silence after that as Sokka continues his braiding, hoping Zuko either didn’t catch it or has decided to let it go. Then,

“Do you want to tell me about her?”

His hands still once more as he takes a moment to process that. He wants to scream no and run away. He wants to break down into tears on the floor. He wants to be swallowed by the earth and stay entombed along with her. All the wants swirl around in a whirlwind inside his head but it's all just so impossible.

He’s sure he sits still for far too long. Still, Zuko waits patiently, doesn’t push or back down. He simply lets the question hang freely in the air between them, letting Sokka’s mind take its time to calm.

“She was too weak to braid it herself, sometimes, when she was sick,” he mumbles as he resumes his braiding again. “She always hated getting hair in her face. I wanted to be able to help so I asked mum to teach me. Yue was–” He chokes off as his throat grows tight.

Zuko is very still and quiet, which is a relief as Sokka just tries to focus on the task at hand. Braiding hair he’s good at, talking too. He’s not very good at feelings though, so he just tries his absolute best to distance himself from the situation. He’s good at stories. Yue couldn't possibly be just a story. But ‘she’ and ‘my friend’ could be. At least for now. Just for a few moments.

He takes a deep breath before he starts talking again. “She was sick a lot. If you– uhm, if you have a heart transplant you need to take medicine that lowers your immune system so… yeah. Her dad always took her to the doctor as soon as she caught something. She was hospitalised a lot when we were kids and I was the only one of her friends allowed to visit… Even at her weakest she was so full of life.”

That’s where he ends it. That’s all there is to the story about the friend whose hair he used to braid. She exists in a vacuum where only he has a name, where no one but the two of them exist, and where the world ends outside that familiar sterile hospital room. The story is over once he closes the door – because the rest of the world and all that’s to come doesn’t exist in this story.

He’s at a point where he needs to get down on the floor on Zuko’s right to continue the braid now, so he slips down onto it without a word. He refuses to look at whatever expression might be on Zuko’s face at the moment so he just looks at the hair in his hands.

“You are a good friend,” Zuko says after a minute or so of silence, voice almost unbearably soft.

Sokka says nothing in response to that but he has now reached the end of Zuko’s hair so he ties it off with the hair tie Zuko picked earlier before going back to volumize the whole thing.

“There we go,” he mumbles when he’s satisfied with it.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Sokka says, leaning back to finally meet Zuko’s eyes again.

Zuko smiles at him. “So, how do I look?” he asks. Sokka leans back a bit further and. Oh. Yup. Sokka had been right, this hairstyle really did suit him. Sokka had made it on the right side of his face because he didn’t want to pull on his scar too much, so his scar is definitely more prominent than it normally is, but that definitely didn’t mean he didn’t look great. Zuko always looked great after all, the scar didn't take away from that. Still, like this…

“Beautiful,” he answers, feeling strangely thrown off.

Zuko looks at him for a few more seconds, then he turns his head left, effectively hiding his scarred side.

“I mean it,” Sokka adds, a bit insistently.

Zuko huffs to himself. “You really are something else,” he mutters at a volume Sokka just barely catches. Then he pushes himself off the floor. “I’ll check myself, decide on a name in the meantime.” He makes his way back to the mirror by the front door and Sokka’s left sitting on the floor with a strange tingling in his chest that he can’t quite explain.

They’re watching some shitty romcom Aang brought that Sokka honestly isn’t paying any attention to whatsoever. Suki and Toph are making fun of the movie, seemingly enjoying themselves well enough, while Katara and Aang are cuddling in their own little bubble, as per usual. Zuko is watching Sokka rather than the movie, which Sokka doesn’t have the energy to think too much about. If Zuko finds Sokka more interesting than the movie, that’s fine; Sokka finds Suki’s wall more interesting than the movie after all, so who is he to judge?

“I’m getting a cigarette,” Sokka announces to the room mid-movie, standing up. Suki hums, Katara gives some snide comment about smoking, and Toph mutters something about it being too cold. He doesn’t really acknowledge any of them but Zuko’s gaze burns his neck as he shrugs on his coat and leaves the flat.

The sun set hours ago and it should be freezing – which it also is, according to Toph – but when he opens the gate and is hit with a gust of wind, he feels no difference in temperature from indoors. Maybe he’s just too accustomed to the icy climate or something – doesn’t really matter, not freezing his ass off is convenient.

The snow lies mostly undisturbed across the dimly lit courtyard, save for a few shoveled paths leading to the different gates. It’s disgustingly calm. Sokka has recently discovered a newfound distaste for snow. He can’t recall a single time before in his life when he has not been happy about seeing the first snow of the season, but when the snow had started falling over Agna Qel’a a few of weeks ago, Sokka was filled with a sense of dread that hasn’t left him since.

As he makes his way to the picnic tables in the corner of the courtyard, he makes sure to kick more snow than strictly necessary, feeling the slightest bit of gratification at disturbing the picture perfect landscape. Once there, he brushes away the layer of snow on the table before sitting down, putting his feet on the bench as he pulls out a cigarette and his lighter from his pocket. He lights his cigarette without a thought and even though nothing in him calms or settles when the smoke fills his lungs, it’s at least something taking up all that hollow space inside him.

He looks back at the courtyard, letting his eyes drift over it. It’s like a painting someone put in front of the real world, it’s far too calm and peaceful to exist in the same space as his storming insides. Either the world in front of him is fake or he is. His eyes catch on some disgusting blinking string lights hanging off someone’s balcony on the opposite side of the courtyard. They blink slowly at first, then gradually faster and faster before suddenly going slow again. He’s always hated when people put out blinking lights like that, someone could have a seizure. He takes a pull of his cigarette and closes his eyes. He doesn’t even have it in him to get properly mad about it like he should.

The water has numbed him enough that he can’t even feel how freezing it is anymore as he’s hit with wave after wave after wave. He breathes in the smoke just to get a break from the salty water in his lungs, then a wave forces him underwater and into a stream he’s too weak to swim up from. Even as he tries with all his might, forcing his burning limbs to cooperate as much as they possibly can in their exhausted form, it’s just not enough. So, after almost a year in this unforgiving icy sea, Sokka accepts his fate. He inhales his first full breath of salty seawater as he finally allows himself to sink.

“Sokka?”

“Hmm?” He looks up to see Aang frowning at him.

“Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Sokka responds tonelessly. Aang bites his lip, his brows furrowing even deeper.

“You’ve been drawing that same line for at least ten minutes,” Zeebee cuts in, not looking up from the mask she’s painting.

“Right.” Sokka looks down at the distinct black line he’s managed to carve into the wooden sword with his pencil. He lets go of both objects, letting them fall to the ground with a dull clink-clunk noise. “My bad.”

Aang is still frowning when Sokka gets up and leaves the room. He just really needs a cigarette. He just barely registers the golden eyes watching him as he leaves.

The snow lays glittering in the moonlight, looking near magical as it lights up the dark cemetery. It would frustrate Sokka in any other setting, but it’s different here. After all, this is the only place allowed to be beautiful. Because this is her home, and she deserves only the best.

He’s been here a lot for the last few weeks. More than usual. He finishes school and rather than going home or meeting with his friends, this is where he finds himself. Even now, when Tui is still hiding half her face in the darkness, he longs for it – for her.

Yet, he’ll stop by the bench, unable to walk any closer. He’ll sit in silence for an hour or two while staring blankly at the glittering snow on the ground. He’ll walk to Kya’s grave and stare at it as well. Her embrace is distant and her eyes in the sky seem fogged up despite the clear sky, but that’s all he can have, so he’ll take it.

He hasn’t told anyone where he disappears to, not even Katara. After all, cemeteries aren’t meant for the living. The people still breathing air should stay at the surface, lest he’ll pull them down along with him.

When Katara opens his door, he doesn’t turn to look at her. He’s laying on the floor, more specifically his blue carpet. He could be on the bed but the bed is too soft, it allows his muscles to shift as his limbs move and it’s like he’s melting. She’s waiting for him to look at her but he can’t be bothered; he already knows how this goes. She looks at him, frowning, he tells her it’s fine, she asks him to talk, he won’t, then she drags him along to Suki’s and pretends she isn’t worried because that’s how it’s been for weeks. But she doesn’t know he’s drowned. So, she’ll stand there waiting for him to start the conversation but he won’t. He can’t.

He’s not sure how long she’s standing there before she breaks. “Sokka,” she pleads, sounding more concerned than she has since school started again.

“Katara,” he replies tonelessly, eyes still fixed on the ceiling. Her gaze burns his cheek but he can’t turn his head.

The broken sigh his sister lets out bears some resemblance to a sob. He still can’t look at her. He wants to but he can’t. The motion should be so simple, yet the mere thought shuts his body into lockdown.

The words she speaks seem far away with how muffled they are, which makes sense when she’s on the surface and he’s drifting several metres below. He has no idea what she’s saying so he doesn’t even bother to reply.

Either a few seconds or an eternity later, Katara plops down next to him on the floor. She doesn’t say anything, she just lays there. He still doesn’t look at her, but she doesn’t seem to be looking at him either.

“When mum died,” she starts slowly, breaking the silence that had stretched out for spirits know how long, “I didn’t think we’d get through it.” Sokka hums. She must know he knows how it was then, right? He was also there, he also lost his mum. “I thought you, me, and dad were gonna break into a million tiny pieces… But we didn’t.” She pauses, taking a deep shaky breath. “And I was so angry – because the world shouldn’t just keep spinning when our mum is gone.” Her gaze seems to land on him again as she sighs. “Us having to just… keep living felt so unfair... But then someone told me something that helped a bit, you know what it was?”

His brows furrow as his neck finally unlocks itself, allowing his head to fall to the side to meet her eyes just a few decimetres away from him. “What?”

Katara smiles softly at him. “She said that whenever she missed her mum, she’d just look to the night sky, and find her smiling at her amongst the stars.”

There’s a slight burn in his eyes but it never really evolves into a cry. Still, he lay there staring at his baby sister, who has grown up to look just like their mother with her glittering blue eyes so full of love and understanding that it hurts.

“She told me I could always find her with the moon,” Sokka whispers and Katara’s smile widens even as her eyes gloss over with tears.

“Always with the moon,” she says, nodding.

He’s not sure when his tears actually spill out of his eyes, but he can only assume it’s around the same time hers do.

Chapter Text

After an eternity huddled up on the floor together, wiping each other’s tears, and telling each other made up stories for comfort in a way they haven't done since they were little kids, Katara finally pulls herself together enough to call Suki to tell her they won’t make it to movie night that evening (although she’s probably already figured that out). Sokka’s not sure what she tells her, since she left the room to make the call, but she’s gone for a bit.

When she returns to his room, her arms are filled with blankets and pillows that she dumps haphazardly on the floor next to him before disappearing out the door again. He doesn't really have the energy to question it so he doesn’t. Instead, he takes a breath and pushes himself into a sitting position for the first time in hours.

“It’s ‘Sokka’s favourites’ night,” Katara announces when she returns the second time, this time carrying her laptop and a bag of seal jerky. “How about we watch one of those boring superhero movies you like so much?”

“Sure,” he replies simply as she plops down next to him. She looks a bit disappointed in his lack of comeback, but she smiles at him as she opens her laptop nonetheless.

Sokka gets to pick the movie, as promised. He doesn’t actually want to watch anything but he ends up picking Guardians of the Galaxy. Mostly because, out of his ‘boring superhero movies’, that’s the franchise Katara likes the most.

They don’t speak a single word as the movie plays, Katara snickers sometimes though which is nice. Neither of them touch the bag of seal jerky either, but the thought was nice. Sokka is barely paying attention to the movie whatsoever if he’s honest. Still, it’s slightly better than staring at the ceiling.

They’re about halfway through volume two when the doorbell rings. Katara is out the door before Sokka really has the time to react so he just pauses the movie and lets his head fall back to rest on the bed. Wow, his ceiling is just as white and empty now as it was a couple hours ago, isn’t that wild?

Maybe he should paint it black or something, that would be nice… probably. He’s honestly not sure but at least it’d be different. White really is such a boring colour. Who decided ceilings should be white anyway? Why is that some kind of universally agreed upon thing? Why aren’t ceilings blue like the sky? Or black like the night? Or beige or gray or brown or red or green or literally any other colour?

The texture of it really isn’t helping, it’s slightly prickly but not enough for it to get really interesting. But why is it textured like that? Are all ceilings textured like that? Maybe that’s a question for Hakoda when he gets back from Bin-Er. Architects know those things, right? Also, what is Katara doing? Why is she taking so long? Who’s at the door? Should he check? But then, it’s probably Aang and he doesn’t want to deal with their lovey-dovey-ness right now. But then she’s gonna take forever. Ugh, he probably should check, shouldn’t he?

He’s just about to get up when he hears the front door shut closed. Not even ten seconds later, Katara is back in his room. He sends her a questioning glance as she once again sits down beside him.

“Zuko just dropped off a couple books he borrowed,” she explains with a thick voice before unpausing the movie.

He knows that she’s not telling him everything. And he could ask why she’s lying to him. But he won’t. Because he’s tired and she’s tired and talking is a task. And also because sometimes they lie to each other, but there’s always a reason for it.

She is sitting in the window, watching the spirit lights dancing across the sky. Their light reflects off her white hair, giving her an even more ethereal appearance than usual. He sits down beside her, glancing out the window before looking back at her.

“Yue?”

The only sign she gives that she’s even heard him is a slight nod. She seems to be entirely mesmerised by the lights tonight, like she couldn’t look away even if she wanted to. Where is she in her head? He wonders.

He looks back out the window and for a long time, they sit in comfortable silence. The two of them next to each other, like it’s supposed to be.

“If I left,” she muses, voice far away and just a bit too static as it cuts through the silence, “what would happen to you?”

He blinks at her a few times. “What?”

“Would you be okay?” she asks, her eyes still fixed on the sky.

“I– What do you mean ‘left’?”

She shakes her head, ever so softly. “I long for the dance.”

He gapes at her, completely lost for words. What the–

“If I left,” she says again, “would you keep your feet on the ground?”

“Yue,” he pleads, leaning forward, “you’re sort of freaking me out, what are you–”

“Would you lose hold of the life La so graciously gave you?” she continues, as if she hadn’t heard him at all. He gently touches her hand where it’s resting on her lap. She turns to him and completely white eyes meet his gaze somehow, despite lacking both irises and pupils

An ice cold chill runs down his spine and with the blink of an eye, he’s surrounded by a roaring sea once more. Yet, her soft voice comes clear as day, barely louder than a whisper,

“Are you so desperate to soar with me that you would let yourself drown?”

~

It burns so bad he’s gone numb. His skin is on fire as his blood is running colder than ice in his veins. It’s dark and quiet and his ears are ringing so loud. It’s pain and it’s heartbreak and it’s the knowledge that he’s alone. Even as he throws his blanket on the floor and the cool night air of the room hits his clammy skin, it’s not enough to put out the fire. His lungs appreciate it more as they now have less restriction. Still, it takes well over five minutes for his body to take in enough air for him to think.

The ringing doesn’t stop and it’s going to drive him mad. The ringing doesn’t stop and he’s not sure what he’d do if it did. He’s not sure what to do once he’s left alone in the silence of the night. He’s not sure if he could survive the pity his friends would meet him with. He can’t be alone. He can’t talk to anyone. He needs a cigarette.

It’s strangely easy to rise and make his way out of his room. He’s not entirely sure when he got his parka and snow boots on but by the time he finds himself walking down the road with a lit cigarette in his hand he’s wrapped up tight, which is probably for the best.

It’s cold and it’s snow and it’s darkness. It’s streetlights and moonlight and fire. It’s the ground underneath his feet and the smoke in his lungs. He’s alone and the world is calm and quiet around him. The ringing is gone and all that’s left is the aching emptiness in his chest.

Polar night is a daunting thing to many outsiders, but to the people of the poles, it’s considered holy. It’s a seven weeks long blessing from Tui, given to her people to grant them extra strength to pull through the rough and often unforgiving winters of the polar regions. It is especially sacred to waterbenders, since the night grants them extra power.

That’s not to say it isn’t holy to non-benders, it supposedly gives all people of the poles strength or energy or whatever. Sokka doesn’t really care beyond the fact that it means school's out for a few weeks. He used to care more, kind of. He never quite believed in it but it was still nice. And Yue loved it, said she could feel Tui’s love in her soul. Sokka used to try as well, especially when things got bad and he couldn’t just roll his eyes at her. But unlike Yue, Sokka is unreceptive and useless and weak. He never felt strengthened by Tui no matter how much he desperately needed it. And that fact is more obvious than ever before this year – when the festivities start as usual, as if nothing has changed.

After the big opening ceremony on the last day of sun happens and people start to celebrate, Sokka is suddenly surrounded by happy people who are looking forward to more ceremonies, as well as feasts and dances and games and all the stuff that should be fun but really isn’t. Not anymore. Not when she’s not there to drag him to the dancefloor to dance until they’re both dizzy. Not when she’s not there to exchange silly faces with, to entertain each other during dragged out boring speeches. Not when she’s not there to come up with the most disgusting food combinations ever with. Not when she’s not there to make fun of him, or skate with him, or play fair games with him, or talk with him. Not when she’s not there.

Central Agna Qel’a is bustling with activity. Even in the small alleyway he has hidden away in, he can’t escape it. There are at least three different bands playing entirely different music within hearing distance, he can spot two loose toddlers that are just one small misstep away from falling and start wailing, and the thousand different scents in the air go terribly together. He wants to leave but the problem with central Agna Qel’a during polar night is that it’s like this practically everywhere. Of course he has to live just a few blocks away from Central Plaza too, which is the worst place if you want peace and quiet at any given time, but especially during polar night.

Sokka has also been left alone in this nightmare. Katara and Aang are watching some sort of waterbending show down the block, Zuko is still at work, Toph is having a blast cheating at all the different festival games, and Suki is volunteering with her band of Kyoshi Warriors. So he’s having a blast, obviously. The only reason he had allowed himself to be dragged along in the first place was because Dad had Bato over and he was not gonna stay around to deal with that. So here he was, out in the cold, surrounded by loud noises and intense smells and blinking lights and people who are so ridiculously joyful it’s offensive.

How did he ever enjoy these festivals? He wonders as he turns his back to the noisy crowds and pulls out a cigarette. It’s slightly better with smoke in his lungs but it’s still not good. At least the smell kind of overpowers all the others. He’ll take the small win. He should’ve gone to Gran Gran’s or something instead of letting himself be dragged to the fucking plaza.

“Sokka?” comes a voice from behind him. He swirls around in the direction of the voice and. Fuck. “It really is you!” Yuki smiles brightly at him as she approaches.

Sokka stares at her but says nothing. He really can’t deal with this. Not right now. She’s right in front of him and she looks exactly the same. It’s like her hair dye hasn’t faded at all, it’s the exact same shade of light pink as it was a year ago. Her familiar stormy blue eyes meet his and he feels sick.

She smiles before she wraps his arms around him in a quick hug and he’s pretty sure he’s about to shatter. “I can’t believe it,” she says, taking a step back. “I haven’t seen you since–”

“Yuki!” another way too familiar voice calls out from somewhere beyond the alley. It’s only a matter of seconds before Eske comes into view. “You can’t just–” Their gaze lands on Sokka and their mouth snaps shut. He doesn't take a single step closer as he stares at him in utter disbelief. “Sokka?” The blue lights of the market reflect off their white hair and it’s too much.

His body moves before his brain has the chance to stop spinning. He pushes his way past Yuki and takes off further down the alley, further away from her and Eske. It leads him to a side street that is relatively calm and he quickly runs down it. The further from the Central Plaza he gets, the less people there are. He runs down busy streets with food stands and games, through narrow alleys with old staircases, over bridges and through tunnels. He runs until his lungs burn and his hair is dripping with sweat. He runs until the streets are empty and silent around him and the tall buildings of the city have turned into two-to-three-story townhomes.

He runs until his knees give out from under him and he lands hard on his knees and palms in the middle of some random ass park that he hasn’t been in for years but definitely has been in at some point because there’s nowhere in this damned city he’s never been. He can’t breathe properly and it really isn’t helped by his hunched over position resulting in the steam of his breath rising right back into his face. He’s freezing and burning and sinking and soaring and everything hurts.

There’s no one around save for a group of koalaotters in the mostly frozen lake on his left. At this point it wouldn’t even matter if someone saw him like this. He clearly lost all reason long ago anyway. He can’t possibly lose any more pride if he has none left. So he allows himself to collapse, face planting right down into the snow before rolling to his back and stretching his limbs out like a starfish.

This position means he catches them when they start. He doesn’t know how long he’s laid still in the snow by then but it really doesn’t matter because they make it worth it. They’re white and green and pink and they’re breathtaking. Even though he’s several metres below the surface, he can still tell just how beautifully the spirits dance tonight.

Chapter Text

There’s a melody-accompanied-buzzing in his pocket and he can’t deal with it. It’s most definitely Katara or Suki who wants to know where he is but he doesn’t want to talk to either of them. Still, he forces himself to pull out his phone and check aaand he was right, it’s Katara. He presses the answer button rather reluctantly and puts it on speaker to have it rest on his chest rather than having to hold it.

“Hello,” he mutters and she lets out a heavy breath.

“Oh thank the spirits!” she exclaims and then mutters something to someone on her end. “Where are you?”

He looks around as much as he’s possibly able to do without actually moving his body. “Seaside Park, I think.”

“Seaside Park!?”

Yeah, he should’ve expected that. He can practically feel the fury radiating off her through the phone. “Mhm.”

“How the fuck did you get that far off!?” she yells. “Is there even anything happening out there!?”

“Nope.”

“I can’t believe you!” There’s more muttering and some yelling and he could probably make out words if he tried but he doesn’t have the energy.

“Sokka?” Aang’s voice is soft and worried and he hates it. What is with people and saying his name like that today?

“What?” he snaps and the heavy sigh Aang lets out is more than telling enough.

“Should we come pick you up?” he asks and Sokka has to fight back a groan.

“No, I’m fine.” He grabs his phone and sits up.

“Sokka, we just–”

“I’m gonna go to the cemetery and I don’t need any of you to babysit me!”

Aang starts saying something but Sokka has already hit the hang up button and he honestly doesn’t even care what he was gonna say. He’s fine. He doesn’t need their pity.

As he walks his phone keeps ringing but he’s not gonna pick it up. They don’t understand. They don’t. No matter what they say, they just cannot comprehend how deep he is.

The cemetery is only a few blocks away and it is pleasantly dark and quiet when he gets there. It’s his bench and his space in between his friend and his mum. It’s December and the moon is half and in just over a week he will have been a broken half of a whole for a year.

The snow creaks under approaching footsteps. They stop next to him and the bench shifts under the added weight of another person to his right. The air goes warm around them and Sokka doesn’t need to look up from his hunched over position to know exactly who has decided to be his babysitter of the day.

Neither of them say a thing and Sokka wants to hate the warmth Zuko brought with him but truth is he’s been out for hours and despite not feeling the bite of the cold himself, it’s undeniably nice to be surrounded by warmth. He glances at Zuko out of the corner of his eye before looking back at the ground.

“Katara send you?”

“No.” Zuko’s voice is uncharacteristically smooth and earnest. “I thought you could use some company.”

“I don’t need your pity,” he mutters.

“What if I just care?” Zuko asks and Sokka finally straightens his back to glare at him. Zuko’s face is a carefully neutral mask. “It’s not pity, just concern.”

Sokka studies his face for a few silent moments before looking away and leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “I’m fine, you can leave.”

“You never look at me when you’re lying.” It’s a simple statement of fact and Sokka hates it. Hates how Zuko just knows. “So look at me and tell me again, and I’ll believe you.”

Sokka tries, he really does. He tries with all his might to just turn his head and look at the firebender next to him but even that without the statement is an impossible task. The silence drags on and on and on and Sokka is getting really frustrated that Zuko isn’t saying anything either. His own thoughts are all mangled up in his head so Zuko has to be the one to do it but he just doesn’t and it’s so annoying and so relieving at the same time.

At last, Sokka sighs and closes his eyes. He still can’t turn to Zuko but his jaw finally unlocks itself. “You really are something else,” he mumbles, echoing a weeks old statement from the firebender.

Zuko says nothing and it is once again oh so quiet. It’s nice, in its own strange way, sitting in the cold, dark night with someone who doesn’t radiate concern all the time. Sokka knows Katara’s worry is not unfounded but it’s so annoying. She doesn’t need to keep track of him at all times, he’s not a little kid! Then, he’s pretty good at acting like one. He glances in the direction of Yue’s place. It’s dark but he can just barely spot the peak of the headstone in the moonlight. It’s so close, it would take only a few steps to go to her, it shouldn’t be this impossible task. But it is. It is entirely impossible, as if there’s an invisible wall, just past this bench, that Sokka can’t get through.

“It’s a year ago,” he mutters into the silence, “next thursday.” He shakes his head and looks back down. “And I can’t even look at her.”

There’s a beat of silence before Zuko speaks. “It’s hard to look at someone you’re avoiding.” It’s a simple statement, said without accusation. Still, it hits Sokka like a truck and he’s left swirling out of control in a maelstrom.

“I’m not–” he says, looking back at Zuko. “What are you–?”

The firebender tilts his head to the side and his gaze is so unbearably soft as it meets Sokka’s. “It won’t get easier if you refuse to talk about her.”

Sokka blinks a couple of times and then stares until his vision goes blurry and the other boy’s face has morphed into blocks of beige, red, and gold. What the fuck is he supposed to say to that? The truth is that he can’t not think about her. He’s not avoiding her. He can’t avoid her because everything around him reminds him of her all the time and he’s suffocating in it. She is every piece of clothing he owns. She is all the decorations in his room. She is his home and his school. She is every road and every park in the city. She is the very ground he stands on and every star in the sky above.

How could he possibly explain that she is everything good in this world? That losing her is losing the world itself? That he is one half of a set and she is the other and that he is useless without her?

“I can’t,” he breathes out at last.

“Try.” There’s no pressure in it, just a soft invitation. “I would love to get to know her.”

Sokka closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. It’s a strange realisation to have, that Zuko has no idea who she was. That he has never seen or talked with her. Zuko is the only person in his life who doesn’t know her at all. Which means he doesn’t know Sokka either. And Sokka wants him to know him. That is the strangest part of it all. That if he really wants Zuko to know him, he can’t refuse to tell him about her. Because to know Sokka is to know Yue.

“She was… the most breathtaking person you’ve ever seen,” Sokka starts, eyes still closed and voice a quiet whisper. “In every way. The smartest person in any room she stepped into, a smile brighter than the sun, and so incredibly kind and caring.” He sighs as he leans back to look at the moon, letting it act as an anchor of sorts, to have something to focus on. “I’ve never met anyone who didn’t love her.”

He takes a deep, shaky breath as he closes his eyes for just a second. “Most people saw her as some kind of porcelain doll; fragile and beautiful. She was gorgeous, could’ve easily been a work of art… But she wasn’t a doll. She was strong-willed and decisive while also being respectful and elegant. Some people would liken her to a princess but that doesn’t do her justice. She was…” He swallows hard, pushing down the lump that tries to lodge itself in his throat.

“She was too good for this world, and the spirits must have known it. She was born with leukemia, pretty bad, doctors didn’t think she would make it.” He blinks back the rush of tears threatening to escape his eyes before continuing. “She did, but the treatments killed her heart. Healers tried to fix it but it was completely ruined, they could buy her time but not fix it. She was relatively newly transplanted when I met her… People treated her like she was made of glass and she hated it. She couldn’t do all the things the other kids could but that didn’t mean she couldn’t do anything.”

“She was strong and smart and beautiful and kind and funny and all the millions of things people say. But she was also stubborn and mischievous and so angry at everything wrong in this world. She wasn’t perfect, like some people would say, she had plenty of flaws. She hid her jagged edges well but truth be told, the world hurt her, and sometimes she wished to hurt it back.” He shakes his head. “She wasn’t perfect. She was… human. And somehow that was the most divine thing about her.”

That’s where he leaves it. That’s the point when he closes his eyes and unanchors himself from the moon and drifts freely out to sea once more. It’s dark and freezing and the current is still strong and he’s not gonna fight it. But he doesn’t sink. It’s not terrifying and wild. It’s just the miserable reality he’s grown accustomed to. And isn’t that strange? That for all the storms the mere thought of her had caused… this didn’t. His body is shaking and aching, and he’s suddenly absolutely exhausted. But he’s…

He sighs and opens his eyes again, just to cast a glance at Zuko. The firebender offers him a smile, it’s a small and sad smile but his eyes are pools of deep understanding.

“She sounds lovely,” he says, voice so soft it’s barely audible.

“Yeah.” Sokka nods. “She was.” He blinks at the burn of tears in his eyes, but his throat is already so tight it hurts and he’s tired of fighting it. So he stops. He stops biting down his sobs, stops trying to blink back his tears, stops trying to stay levelheaded. He simply lets himself fall apart.

It is a strange thing, to be so completely vulnerable in front of another person. Katara is the only living person to see Sokka cry in the last few years, until now, that is. Zuko rubs his shoulder very gently while Sokka is hiding his face in his hands and it all seems so weirdly surreal.

“Fuck,” he grumbles as he leans up just a bit, more to himself than anyone else. He sniffles and tries to wipe away his tears but they just keep on coming and he can’t breathe properly without sobbing. “I’m sorry–”

“What for?” Zuko’s voice is so genuinely confused that Sokka can’t not unbury himself to stare at him. The guy is frowning and he looks both confused and concerned and honestly, it kind of helps because Zuko’s confusion is confusing Sokka right back.

“Dude, look at me,” he chokes out. “I’m a mess, sorry you have to deal with–” He makes a vague gesture to himself with his right hand. “–with all of this.”

“Sokka,” Zuko says, voice suddenly stern, “look at me.” Sokka obeys with a sigh and is met with a frown. “I told you earlier,” he continues, “I’m here because I care about you.”

Sokka blinks at him a couple of times, his tears catching in his lashes as he does. Then it all wells up again and he doesn’t have the energy to care anymore because what the actual fuck does he even have left to lose at this point? He lets himself fall into Zuko, who stiffens for a split second, but then quickly wraps his arms around Sokka and holds him until this new wave passes.

Zuko gives no comments, no annoyance, no judgment; just a warm embrace and a faint smell of jasmine tea.

Sokka is pretty sure they must’ve sat like that for well over ten minutes by the time it seems he is all out of tears and only sniffles and a dull aching pain in his temples is left. He pulls back to wipe his face with his sleeve and then he looks back at Zuko again. Zuko, whose forehead is still wrinkled with concern, whose eyes are soft and understanding, and who still doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest by the whole ordeal.

“Feel better?” he asks and Sokka shocks himself by nodding.

“Yeah,” he croaks, voice thick. “Yeah, I– I do.” He even manages a small smile as he meets Zuko’s eyes.

Zuko smiles right back at him. “Good. Like Uncle says, ‘our hearts are like clouds, and sometimes, we must rain.’”

Sokka snorts despite himself. “Come again?”

“Well… it’s something along those lines!” Zuko splutters as he flushes just a little bit. “Might have some weird tea analogy or something as well..? I don’t know, you try to make sense of his proverbs!”

And that’s what cracks Sokka. He’s laughing and it's strange and great and weird and painful. Zuko laughs too, not as intensely but still. It’s nice being back in familiar territory, even for just a moment. And isn’t that wild? That Sokka can laugh like this after all that just happened?

He sniffles as he calms down. “Yue would love you,” he mumbles.

Zuko looks at him for a moment before he answers, “And I would be honoured.”

It is bittersweet to tell Zuko about all the things the three of them could do together. All the games she’d beat them both in, all the ideas she’d have for the play, all the weird tea combos she’d make that would drive Iroh mad. How she’d berate them for smoking and tell Zuko every embarrassing little story of Sokka she could think of. It’s all the things about Yue as a friend, like how she’d give the best gifts, be a shoulder to lean on, be ready to kill someone for you. It’s all the things that are beautiful and painful.

Zuko listens, nods along, smiles, offers the occasional comment, and lets Sokka pause to collect himself without pushing. No pressure, just gentle eyes and warm smiles and Sokka can’t even begin to explain how much it means.

It’s Sokka’s call to make, when he is done talking about her for the night and silence falls between them. “I think I should get home.”

“Ready to face Katara’s wrath?” Zuko jokes and Sokka snorts.

“Yeah, I’ll survive.”

Zuko nods before he stands and offers Sokka a hand. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

Sokka takes it and allows himself to be hauled to his feet. “What, haven’t had enough of me yet?” he asks as they start walking.

Zuko scoffs and shakes his head. “You’re good, stalker boy.”

“I’d like to point out that you’re the one who sought out me today,” Sokka argues and Zuko shoots him a smile as he shrugs.

“I wasn’t the one who named myself ‘your personal stalker’ in your phone,” he points out.

Sokka snickers. “I thought it was pretty funny.”

“You were right,” Zuko replies simply.

“What would you name yourself in my phone?” Sokka quizzes and the firebender considers for a moment.

“I honestly have no idea,” he admits at last. “I mean there’s not really a joke with me like the stalker joke about you.”

“Cemetery boy is pretty good, especially after tonight.”

Zuko looks a bit thrown off to have that pointed out and for a second Sokka wonders if that was a dumb thing to say. But then he chuckles with a shake of his head.

“Seems we’re both weirdos.”

Sokka grins. “Yesterday, your driveway at three AM, today, the cemetery, tomorrow, who knows!”

“I vote the schoolyard,” Zuko suggests. “Not weird in of itself, but really random during break.”

“Good choice, good choice.” Sokka nods. “I’ll up the odds and say the roof of building two, it’s surprisingly easy to climb.”

Zuko turns to stare at him for a moment, ever so slightly baffled, before he starts laughing. “Why do you know that?” Sokka just shrugs with a smile.

The walk is surprisingly easy, Sokka doesn’t think he’s ever left the cemetery feeling this calm, but it’s hard to be swept into a whirlpool when Zuko’s there and talking and smiling and… still holding Sokka’s hand.

Zuko’s hand is warm and soft in his and Sokka decides that if Zuko doesn’t feel weird about it – which by the looks of it, he doesn’t – then Sokka won’t either. It’s nice to have his own little hand warmer like this anyway.

Luckily for Sokka, it’s well past midnight and most of the noise has died down by the time they get to his street so that’s a relief. Then he realises that they’re on his street and that means Zuko is gonna leave soon and… he really doesn’t want him to.

“Your stop,” Zuko mumbles when they stop outside the front gate of Sokka’s building.

“Looks like it.” He chews the inside of his cheek in some consideration. Then he sighs. This is stupid, he–

“Will you be okay?” Zuko asks, cutting off that trail of thought before it had the chance to really start.

Sokka blinks at him. “Yeah? Of course?”

Zuko nods. “Okay.” He takes a step back and Sokka asks before he really thinks it through,

“Could I have a hug?”

Zuko stares at him and if he hadn’t already crossed all lines tonight, he’d probably look away in embarrassment but Sokka has already humiliated himself plenty in front of Zuko so what is some more? So instead of looking away, he offers the firebender a small smile and opens his arms ever so slightly. And to his surprise, Zuko closes the space between them and hugs him.

It’s probably the nicest hug Sokka’s had in months, especially since Zuko is still doing that heat regulation thing so it’s warm and toasty, but also just lovely because it’s Zuko and he…

Fuck.

He just really likes Zuko.

Well, that’s an interesting realisation to have at one AM after having a breakdown.

“Get home safely,” Sokka mumbles when Zuko pulls away.

“Don’t let Katara kill you,” he mutters back and doesn’t that just really cement the fact?

Sokka scoffs. “Tell me when you get home.”

“Sure.”

And like that Zuko is walking back up the street and Sokka is left to face his probably fuming sister. Well, if Katara kills him, at least he won’t have to admit defeat. He pushes open the door and for the whole lift ride he just stares at himself in the mirror. The doors open and he takes a deep breath.

Okay, he can do this.

Opening the front door, he is unsurprised to see Katara just down the hallway, arms crossed and face twisted with worry-mixed anger. She takes a breath, ready to launch but he beats her to it.

“I’m a mess,” he states simply and confusion quickly overtakes her features.

Then the anger snaps right back in as she yells, “Nooo!? Oh, thank you so much for telling me! I had no idea! Please, what other marvellous revelations have you had?”

He winces back a bit at the onslaught but even if he can’t meet her eyes as he says it, he will say it. Another deep breath as he closes his eyes. And then he just says it, because he has to,

“Do you still have that list of therapists?”

Chapter Text

Therapy is strange. Like the mere concept of it has always made Sokka feel weird and it’s honestly not much better now that he’s actually in it. He leaves every session feeling all mangled up inside. He’s come to the conclusion that maybe he needs to be mangled up, ripped apart by the seams, before he can be put back together. Katara claims therapy is just like that, that it’s difficult but necessary – which he knows is true, but it still sucks.

He doesn’t really spend his break doing much socialising outside of therapy and his immediate family. Gran Gran insists on them coming over once or twice, Dad has Bato over a few times, and Katara did invite Aang to one of their mini-movie nights which was surprisingly okay. It’s not that he doesn’t want to see the others, he just really doesn’t have the energy.

A few sessions in, Lana, his therapist refers him to a psychiatrist so he can get antidepressants so that’s a bit more intense than he was expecting. She also thinks he should look into getting evaluated for ADHD but that sounds draining so he puts that on hold for now. Antidepressants are pretty cool though, kind of awful, makes his feelings go all over the place, but after spending the last year in a weird numbness, it’s a pretty welcomed change. Even though he did spend ten minutes sobbing at a picture of a puppy one night, which was kind of ridiculous.

By the end of break, Sokka is still pretty exhausted and he doesn’t really have the energy to… be a person. But at least he’s not dreading it in the way he’s dreaded every other sign that time still passes since Yue’s death up until now, so he’ll take the small win.

He also genuinely does really look forward to seeing the others again. He even looks forward to Drama Club which is kind of strange but he chooses to not think about that too much – it is a good thing he looks forward to anything, after all.

Sokka honestly hasn’t spent all that much time thinking about Zuko and his warm hands and golden eyes and pretty smile and all that jazz since the cemetery incident. He has thought about it a bit, mostly just trying to figure it out, like if it really was a crush or if it’s just platonic affection.

On one hand, he knows he enjoys Zuko’s company and finds him very good looking, he’s funny and sweet and kinda strange, and… well, he does kind of make Sokka’s chest tingle.

On the other hand, Sokka is emotionally unstable and Zuko has been very nice about it. Also, Sokka’s never actually had a genuine crush on a boy before, just general attraction. Like, can Sokka even have actual crushes on boys or does he just find them hot sometimes? He can’t really use the ‘it doesn’t feel the same as all my other crushes’ excuse either because he has also never had a crush while depressed before so… it’s kind of hard to tell.

So, he decides that, for his own sanity’s sake, he’s not gonna think about it. He’ll ignore the thoughts and whatever, and just pretend like he didn’t have a kind of revelation in the middle of the night at the beginning of December and just… act normal. His head needs to be clearer before he can maybe potentially act on what he hypothetically might be feeling anyway.

Which is what makes walking into the classroom on the first day of school just all that much more interesting because seeing Zuko for the first time since that night at the cemetery just throws him right back to that same realisation. Because there he is in an oversized red jumper, looking out the window with his hair half tied back with that violet blue hair tie, and–

Sokka shakes himself and strides forward. He can be normal about this, probably. He stops just shy of Zuko’s desk and looks out the window as well. The sky is still dark but it’s starting to brighten, giving the few clouds a slight golden hue.

“Pretty clouds,” Sokka states as casually as he can manage, flopping down in the seat next to the firebender. Zuko turns to look at him with raised eyebrows.

“Yeah,” he mutters, “fluffy.” He shakes his head with a sigh. “I see you’re back from the dead.” His tone as well as the small quirk of his lips makes it clear he’s joking but it still hits Sokka full force.

He averts his gaze and rubs his neck. “Yeaaah… sorry about being all missing in action all break.”

Zuko huffs a small laugh through his nose. It’s quiet for a few seconds but when he speaks again his voice is soft and genuine. “Are you feeling any better?”

Sokka bites his lip as he looks down at his hands. It’s a difficult question. Sure, in some aspects, absolutely, he’s stopped staring at the ceiling all day, he’s actually talking to someone about it all, and he doesn’t panic at the slightest reminder of Yue. But he’s also absolutely exhausted, still kind of wants to bury himself in the ground, and he still can't say Yue’s name without it brewing up a storm.

“I’m feeling different,” is what he finally decides on. He glances at Zuko, who is still watching him intently.

“That’s a pretty good start,” he offers.

And all Sokka can do is agree.

As soon as Sokka rounds the corner of building four, someone bends the ground underneath him to catch his feet. He barely has time to react before it hauls him forward fast as hell until he’s stood face to face with a pissed off-looking Toph. He’s not entirely sure if she’s gonna beat him up or just punch his arm but he’ll take either.

Then he’s caught completely off guard when she hugs him, very tightly in a way he would expect from her but he realises he wouldn’t actually know because she’s never hugged him before. Should he be scared? Probably.

“You are such an idiot,” she grunts before pushing him away from her. He stumbles back a few steps before he stops to blink at her.

“Uhh… missed you too?” he says, trying to process what the fuck just happened.

“Sokka!” someone behind him exclaims, followed by quick steps and before he even has the time to turn, Suki has him locked in a hug that might as well have broken one of his ribs.

“Hello,” he wheezes out with the small amount of air left in his lungs, “it really is good to see you but I kind of need to breathe.” She lets go then, thankfully, allowing him to take a deep breath and turn around to actually look at her.

“You can’t just disappear like that!” she yells, pushing him backwards, although not as forcefully as Toph had.

“Gee, what’s with you two and hurting me?” he mutters as he steadies himself again.

“That’s what you get for disappearing for a month,” Toph grumbles.

“It’s not as if no one knew where I was,” he argues, pulling out a cigarette.

Suki huffs. “No, but you haven’t replied to any of us all break,” she points out.

“And Katara didn’t want any of us over,” Toph adds. “Said you weren’t doing well, how the fuck are we supposed to take that?”

“Uhh… probably like she said it?” he tries, holding out his pack of cigarettes to them as some sort of peace offering.

Toph sighs and takes one with a small head shake while Suki just frowns at him for a long moment.

“You could’ve just said you needed some space,” she says at last and takes a cigarette from his offered pack.

It’s a hard point to argue with because she’s neither right nor wrong. It’s not that he needed space, he just needed rest. He spent most of his break back and forth between his therapist’s office and his bed. It’s not like he needed distance from them specifically, he needed distance from his whole damn life. Still, Suki is, as per usual, right. He should’ve told them.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles at last. “Won’t happen again.”

“Damn right it won’t,” Toph agrees and offers him her lighter.

“So what’s up with the makeup?” Zuko asks, looking at the photo Suki is showing him. “I mean, does it have any actual purpose, or is it just symbolic?”

“It’s mostly symbolic,” she responds, putting her phone aside on the table. “But it’s an important part of the uniform of a Kyoshi Warrior.”

“How come?” Zuko asks and if he wasn’t so cute when he was curious, Sokka would be mad. The guy seems genuinely interested, which is fair, since he hasn’t heard pretty much everything about Kyoshi from Suki and Aang like a thousand times over. Still, Sokka barely manages to stop himself from faceplanting into the table, which would most likely result in knocking over at least a couple cups of tea.

“Well, our entire uniform resembles the preferred get-up of our founder, Kyoshi,” Suki explains with a grin. “Of course that includes her iconic face paint as well, which originates from the theatre troupe she was raised in.”

Zuko nods. “That makes sense, it really does resemble the makeup traditionally used in certain types of theatre.”

“The fighting actually also bears a certain resemblance to theatrical acrobatics,” Suki provides and Zuko’s eyes practically sparkle at that. Or maybe Sokka is just seeing things because he’s been staring at him for too long. Still, it's endearing

“You should’ve seen Sokka trying it,” Katara chips in slyly and for once, Sokka is actually thankful to have that embarrassing story brought up because that definitely derails the incoming rant. “He was terrible.”

“Yes, so, tessenjutsu wasn’t my thing,” he admits, raising his hands. “Boys aren’t really allowed in the Kyoshi Warriors anyway.”

“But you looked so cute in the uniform!” Aang exclaims and the group laughs.

Thirteen year old Sokka would have been embarrassed, but sixteen year old Sokka knows how to own it. “I don’t understand what’s so funny,” he says, waving a blasé hand at the airbender. “Like you say, I looked great in that uniform.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever. C’mon Suki, tell Zuko about how you beat Sokka in literal seconds,” Toph chirps happily, “that’s my favourite part of this story!”

Suki laughs and retells the story just like she’s done a thousand times before. Sokka honestly is more embarrassed by his old behaviour than anything else at this point, so he happily chips in with some comments dissing his younger self for being a little asshat. It’s easy and it’s nice and the others are having fun and most importantly, Zuko’s laughing.

So, even though it’s at Sokka’s expense, and the teahouse is a tumultuous place around them, the only thing Sokka can really think about is how pretty Zuko is when he laughs. Which is a very normal thought to have about your friend, by the way. Nothing weird about the world going dull in comparison when you have the literal sun in front of you.

As for Drama Club, Sokka already has a time plan for how to make up for his subpar performance last semester. There are a lot of final touches and small details left to be done on different props and set backgrounds and costumes, as well as a few more ambitious ideas they had put down on some sort of ‘if we have time over to do something extra nice’ list.

For starters, Sokka has decided to completely disregard the nagging thought of somehow including real water or fire for bending because even if he could make it work somehow, it would still be dangerous. He still thinks the long streams of confetti and the silk ropes look terrible though, but he has a few ideas. He also thinks he could manage to put together some half-decent wings for the Dragon Emperor and Empress so they won’t have to settle for the capes. And maybe he can find a way to make the big transformation at the end more dramatic.

It’s weird to have so many ideas back in his head. He had almost gotten used to the emptiness and lack of inspiration that had been plaguing him for the last year. But this is how his brain is supposed to be, mostly. Loud and spinning and all over the place; exhausting, but ambitious.

Zeebee seems to notice, pretty much as soon as he steps into the room, that something has changed. Even though they’re not looking at him, Sokka just knows that they can sense the difference in him. As soon as Sokka’s settled across the table from her and dumps all his stuff on the table, she looks up and shoots him a smile. This, Sokka realises, is definitely the first time they’ve smiled at him.

“Glad you’re doing better,” they say.

Sokka blinks at her a couple of times before nodding. “Yeah. Uhh… Thanks. Me too?”

She huffs a short laugh before turning her full attention back to the very tiny scales she’s painting along the shoulderpads of the Dragon Emperor’s costume. But Sokka also has stuff to get done so he doesn’t mind Zeebee’s comfortable – yet slightly judgemental – silence.

For now he’s at the brainstorming stage, which mostly consists of random google searches and some halfassed conceptualising in the form of messy sketches. At first glance, poi seems to be a plausible solution, but poi is way more similar to dancing than bending stances during a fight, so it’s not exactly ideal. Another idea is fan veils, which is probably the more promising of the two but also isn’t really ideal since it’s mostly dancing as well.

During his research, he’s found both techniques used to portray bending in theatre, but very rarely during fight scenes. Still, the fan veils could definitely be used for waterbending at the very least, especially if they back it up by other practical effects to make it look more forceful. Maybe if he asks Suki for help and she helps with the choreography that would help make it look more like actual fighting? Like sure, tessenjutsu isn't super similar to fan veiling but she could probably help…

“Zeebee?” he asks and she hums for him to continue. “Why don’t you use fan veils in your plays?”

They shrug. “Could be used for waterbending, maybe air. Not for earth or fire though.”

“Yeah, I kind of settled on that too…”

Well, he can at least suggest this to Zerrah and see what she thinks. As for firebending, well, that’s a whole other can of worms. He reaches for his phone to send the question but stops himself. For the love of Tui and La, it’s been over a year and he still does it. He still went to text her! Because he knows her, and she’d have like a thousand ideas and know exactly how to execute them all because she was so smart and so creative and she’d be so enthusiastic about the play! Because she was everything he is not and everything he is and they balanced each other perfectly and he really has to stop thinking about her right this instant because Zeebee is definitely glancing at him now because he’s tapping his foot against the floor and he really needs to get out of here or he’ll lose it.

“Smoke break,” he announces to the room on his way out. He doesn’t even bother to bring his coat.

The world is dark and cold and the icy bite of the wind is honestly warmly welcomed. As he lights his cigarette behind building four, all he can focus on is the keen awareness of how wrong he is. Because that’s still the truth, isn’t it? He’s gonna be wrong forever because he’s half of a whole and who wants just one shoe when the other one is gone!?

“Fucking hell, Sokka,” he mutters to himself as he leans his head back against the wall to look at the cloud-covered sky. Between the deep breaths of smoke and salty water, he closes his eyes, because the world is far too heavy around him when the smoke doesn’t fill his hollow chest. Spirits, she’d be so damn disappointed in him. Dumb smoker who can’t even come up with the most basic ideas for something as simple as theatrical bending.

Not that that thought helps. Plenty of people have told him to ‘keep living,’ because she’d ‘want him to be happy.’ Of fucking course she would! They loved each other! What kind of stupid statement even is that!? If he died, he’d sure as hell hope everyone he loves could live fulfilling lives without him! That still doesn’t change the fact that here and now, she’s gone and he’s completely fucking incomplete! He’s useless and stupid and everything hurts so fucking bad because he is not meant to be without her! He’s not meant to be alone. He’s not meant to be one.

He’s not sure how long he’s stood there by the time footsteps approach. His cigarette has burnt out, so that tells him enough. Oh well, he’s already drowned, what’s a bit of frostbite?

“Isn’t it a bit cold to be out without a jacket?” Zuko asks as he leans against the wall next to him.

Sokka hums with a nod. It is. But it’s also nice, real – grounding, in a way. “I kind of like it,” he mumbles.

It’s quiet for a while after that. It’s nice, Zuko’s silence usually is. Smoke fills the air as the wind picks up once more and everything is so simple. Here and now, it is all so simple. Sokka pulls out another cigarette and without even having to ask, Zuko offers a flame.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Zuko asks suddenly. Sokka turns his head to look at him, being met by golden eyes just a few centimetres from his own. He can’t help but wonder, just what did he do to deserve to have Zuko care about him this way?

He nods with a sigh, turning to look back at the trees lining the pavement. “I went to text her,” he mutters, “which is stupid, it’s been over a year. But yeah, I did. And I really thought I had gotten past this but clearly not.” He takes a deep pull of his cigarette and tilts his head back to look at the cloudy sky above. “It’s just frustrating.”

“I do that too, sometimes,” Zuko replies and Sokka sends a questioning glance his way. “With my mum. Sometimes even my cousin.” He shrugs. “They both died when I was eleven. I still forget sometimes.” Sokka turns his head to look at him properly and is met with a sad smile. “So I don’t think it’s that weird.”

Sokka just blinks at him. That was… definitely some new Zuko lore. “I’m sorry,” is all he can think to say.

Zuko shrugs again. “It’s life.” He turns his face towards the sky and takes a pull of his cigarette. “I’m sorry.”

“My mum died when I was ten,” Sokka mutters. “I mean, that sucked, but I got through it. I just don’t understand why this is so different.”

The firebender glances at him, observes his face for a moment before looking back at the sky. “Sometimes you shape yourself around it,” he says. “Other times, it consumes you. When one loss happens, you think you’re gonna be ready for the next, but that’s not how love works, nor is it how grief works. There are plenty of reasons why one loss might differ from another, and even if you think one thing is gonna affect you more than another, you never really know.”

Sokka stares at him. Takes a deep shaky breath and tries to catch up. Zuko knows. That’s the first thing. Zuko knows loss in a strange and close way. Sokka can’t help but wonder, what else Zuko might have lost? He takes a pull of his cigarette and looks at the snow under his feet. The second thing is less blatant but he can still see it. Zuko travels the sea. He hasn’t made it to some inexistent land, but he’s not drifting aimlessly like Sokka. Zuko just… sails. He has shaped himself around it, hasn’t he?

“Is that another thing Iroh taught you?” Sokka mumbles into the drawn out silence.

“Partly.” Zuko nods. “But most of what I know about grief and how it affects us, I learnt in therapy.”

“That sounds about right.” He kicks a chunk of snow and watches it explode against a tree. “But that’s a lot of talking.”

“From what I’ve heard, you like talking,” Zuko teases and Sokka chuckles despite himself.

He shakes his head. “Yeah… but I was never good at feelings.”

Zuko actually laughs at that, which is nice. Zuko’s laugh is nice, even with the heaviness hanging over them at the moment. He lights up the space around them somehow, like a small flame. It gets warmer too. Sokka decides to write it off as another firebender thing.

“Believe me, just a couple of years ago, there was exactly one feeling I could name.” He takes a pull of his cigarette as he shakes his head. “Anger.”

Sokka feels his eyebrows rise as his eyes widen. He’s never really seen Zuko lose his temper, so it’s hard to imagine what it would be like. Yet, somehow, it kind of… makes sense. In a… strange way. The boy in question seems to notice his incredulity and just laughs again.

“Trust me, I was an angry fourteen year old.” He takes a pull of his cigarette and when he speaks again, his tone is more serious. “I still am pretty angry, if I’m honest. I’ve just learnt how to control it better.”

“Oh yeah, how?” Sokka quizzes. “Let me guess, screaming into a pillow? Maybe punching a wall? Or do you spend your nights fighting crime?”

Zuko rolls his eyes, but his smile betrays him. “Meditation, mainly.” Sokka blinks at him but he just shoots him a smirk. “But yes, sometimes I punch walls.”

“Five points to Sokka,” Sokka snickers. He takes another deep pull of his cigarette and closes his eyes again. “I don’t really know how to do it,” he mutters, tone more serious.

“What?”

“Control it.” He chews a bit on his lip before huffing out a sigh. “I mean, I’m not angry, at least not particularly, I’m just…”

“Empty?” Zuko suggests gently and Sokka closes his eyes with a reluctant nod.

“Yeah… empty. A ball of aimless frustration and pain.”

It’s quiet for a few moments before Zuko breaks it. “Emptiness is difficult,” he agrees and Sokka looks over at him. “I mean, for me, some good medication and a hell of a lot of therapy did me pretty well but there’s still things inside that are just… gone, you know?” He looks over at Sokka and, yeah, Sokka definitely knows. He nods shortly and the firebender looks back at the trees. “But when you have an empty space, two things can happen. Either you work around it, find a way to landscape around it, learn to live with it, accept its existence inside you without letting it consume you… or you let it swallow everything that is you, consume the very essence of your being, and when you’re nothing but a shell…”

Sokka stares at him. “That’s when you’ve really lost.”

Zuko nods. “It’s not easy to work with it. Growing around emptiness hurts. But, with the right support, people who care about you, someone to talk to, and maybe some prescribed medication…” He looks back at Sokka with eyes like embers and a smile that, despite its fragile softness, makes something inside Sokka’s chest flutter. “It’s possible.”

Chapter Text

The floodgates are open and the water flowing out is warm and golden in the sun that is Zuko. Zuko, who is beautiful, and sweet, and funny, and kind, and who makes Sokka just a little bit weak every time he looks at him. Sokka really wants to believe he is smarter than to give in to that weakness but he’s starting to doubt his ability for self restraint.

Maybe it’s just a desperate call to get out of the freezing sea but Zuko glows like a beacon and it’s so tempting to follow it. But no, Sokka’s heart is a broken mess – a broken mess that has for some reason decided fire is the way it wants to go.

But also, Zuko somehow understands in a way his other friends don’t, and Zuko doesn’t walk on eggshells around him, and Zuko doesn’t push but also doesn’t back down. And also because Zuko offers him small smiles at random times, and Zuko’s eyes light up when he talks about his passions, and even Zuko’s scowls are endearing. And because Zuko is always close but somehow never close enough.

They stand a metre apart while smoking, they sit across the table from each other both at lunch as well as at the Jasmine Dragon, one table apart in the classroom, the whole room apart at Drama Club, and even at movie night, they always keep at least a few centimetres apart. Which is for the best because every accidental touch sends lightning through Sokka’s veins but for some damn reason his heart really wants to be set ablaze.

Problem is, Sokka is not at a place where he can get into a relationship. Because Sokka still spent hours upon hours at the cemetery these past couple of full moons, and Sokka still isn’t really able to talk about Yue without breaking down, and Sokka still can’t visit her grave. And most importantly, because Sokka is still drowning.

Fix your brain first, confront your feelings later, he reminds himself.

So he’ll sit across the room and steal glances every now and then, he’ll ignore the little sparks in his skin when they accidentally brush against each other, and he’ll try to calm his mess of a heart. It may be easier said than done.

It’s been a while since Sokka had a crush, so he’s kind of forgotten how stupid he gets. Laughing way too hard at small jokes, not quite looking where he’s going, making even dumber jokes than usual, pulling stupid pickup lines for La’s sake! At least he hasn’t fallen into any canals around Zuko yet so that’s… well, that’s not a good place for his mind to go.

She really is intertwined in every small part of his life. It’s easy to forget about his and Yue’s short lived relationship when they were thirteen but it’s still fucking there isn’t it? Amongst the memories folded under crushes and partners.

She is everything from kindergarten to secondary school. She is his first friend, first crush, first girlfriend, first breakup, first love. She’s left traces of herself all over his life and memories and it’s impossible to fight all that she is and was out of his head when thinking about his life. Even his room is so undeniably Yue everywhere. Paintings and sketches of planets litter his walls, all painted by her, the walls that they picked the colour for, they painted half this damn room together for Spirits’ sake! Half the stuff on his shelves are gifts from her, the other half is stuff he bought while out shopping with her. If it wasn’t impossible, he’d have hidden it all away along with those damned hair ties from the very beginning. The hair ties that are so pretty and so stupid and that were meant for her. For her when she got out of that stupid hospital room.

Because he thought he knew how it went. Things had been bad before but she always pulled through. But then she didn’t. She never got out of that hospital room alive again and she never got the chance to wear all those hair ties. Just one, the one in the lightest shade of blue that is deep in the ground along with her.

Fuck, his brain really is just cruel.

“Sokka?”

He blinks and Suki is looking at him with furrowed brows.

“Hm?”

“Are you okay?”

He hates that question. Yes, of course he’s okay, he’s standing right here with his cigarette that… is burnt out. Whatever. It’s also stupid because of course he’s not okay. He’s still broken.

“Mostly,” is what he answers. He’s getting there, kind of.

Suki bites her lip in consideration. She sighs and offers a small smile. “I’m always here you know?” She shrugs. “If you want to talk about it.”

He blinks at her, just once. Then he nods. “Yeah. I know.”

“Good.”

They walk back towards the cafeteria together and Sokka doesn’t think before he says it. Or maybe he does think but not that hard. He just wants to say it.

“I can’t stop thinking about her.” It’s a weak admittal, because Suki knows, but it’s true. She looks at him, clearly about to respond but he’s opened his mouth and he hasn’t talked like this in over a year. “I just– I think about anything, absolutely anything at all, and it always just ends up with me thinking about her! I think about schoolwork, and it’s about about how we used to do study dates, I think about the future, and it ends up being about all the plans we had, I think about video games, and it’s about how she always beat me, I think about the sky, and it’s just about how much she loved astronomy, I think about you–” His eyes well up as he waves a hand towards Suki without even looking up. “–all of you, and it’s just about how the group is so wrong without her! And I can’t even appreciate you because my mind is stuck on her!”

He bites his lip hard as he blinks back his tears. They’ve stopped again, he’s not sure when exactly but they’re still at the outskirts of the schoolyard so probably pretty early on in his rant. It’s quiet but that Spirits’ forsaken ringing is back in his ears.

Suki brings a hand to his cheek and guides him to look at her. He meets soft navy eyes and her voice is soft as she speaks. “Sokka, we know it’s not easy for you.” She offers another fragile smile but the warmth is still radiating from her and he hates himself for forgetting how much he loves Suki too. “We all lost someone important to us. But we never blamed you for your grief. We will be here, whenever you’re ready.”

He can’t stop the tears this time, so instead of fighting it he just wraps his arms around her small frame and holds her tightly, and her strong arms hold him even tighter as he buries himself in the crook of her neck. They stand like that for a long, long time.

Lana is happy to hear he’s opening up to his friends. Says it’s a big step. Sokka has to chew on that for a bit before realising he really hasn’t done it before. Yes, he did talk to Zuko about Yue but not really about all the other things. It’s not as if his friends haven’t noticed how miserable he’s been, but it still feels good to get it all out of his system; all his guilt and how useless he feels. It’s a lot to deal with by himself, it’s a lot to deal with at all. But his friends are amazing, and he kind of hates himself for kind of forgetting that.

Because how in the world could he forget that Toph can catch that he’s panicking before he himself does, that Suki knows exactly the way to breathe to calm down, that Aang could listen to one’s problems for hours without complaining, and that Katara is always a shoulder to cry on? They may not completely get what he’s going through, but they’re still his friends, and they still care about him. And of course, they also lost someone, and he really should allow them to grieve her as well.

They had spent one night huddled up on Suki’s floor, just talking about her.

“I miss the way she’d make astrophysics fun,” Toph had sighed. “Like, who even manages that?”

“Her cocoa was out of this world!” Aang chirped.

“Remember when she managed to get dad’s wedding ring out of the kitchen pipes with a fishhook and some jewellery wire?” Katara had laughed wetly.

“Or when she cussed out Hahn in the middle of gym class in middle school!” Suki added. “What was it she said? ‘If it was between eating a fine dinner with you–”

“–or moldy cereal in the school basement, the choice is obvious.’” Sokka had finished along with her.

“Funniest part is how he didn’t get it!” Katara exclaimed. “Really thought she meant she would eat with him!”

And then they had all laughed, and it had all felt alright. Painful, but alright. Strangest part had honestly been how empty it felt without Zuko there.

The sea around him may still be ruthless but it is no longer freezing. He drifts with the shifting waters but the sun shines nicely above the surface and somehow the heat reaches him.

As he breathes in the salty waters, it doesn’t hurt, it just is. And as he takes an agonising swim stroke, the current lets him go. Going up still seems impossible, but maybe he can at least regain some sense of control.

The sun graces his arm as Zuko shifts a bit next to him, sending waves of fire into Sokka’s blood before the flames lodge themselves somewhere near that cold, empty hole in his chest. And when Sokka looks at the sun next to him on the couch, he finds himself not really minding that the warmth is there.

“Good movie today, huh?” Katara comments as they enter the lift in their building, something near teasing in her voice.

“Huh?” Sokka blinks at her. He has no idea what movie they watched, much less what it was about. He assumed it was funny though, since Zuko had laughed quite a bit, which may be part of the reason Sokka couldn’t really focus on the movie in the first place. “Yeah?” he says anyway, not meaning for it to be a question but it comes out as one anyway.

“Yeah, my favourite part was probably either when they blew up the weapons facility or when they confessed their love to each other, can’t really decide.”

Sokka nods, pretending to agree. “I definitely preferred the weapons facility.”

Katara hums. “But the scene with all the leopard seals was pretty funny too.”

The lift stops at their floor then. “Definitely also a good one,” Sokka agrees as he steps out, leading the way to their door.

“Or when they had watched a movie and one of them was super distracted during it and believed everything the others told him about the movie despite none of it happening in it.”

“Yeah, that was–” Sokka pauses mid-unlocking the door and turns to her with narrow eyes. The smug smirk on her face is all the confirmation he needs. “Ugh, fuck you,” he mutters, quickly turning the key the last bit and pulling the door open. “So what if I didn’t watch the movie, maybe it was boring?”

Katara levels him with an unimpressed look. “Sokka, we watched Game Night,” she says as she follows him into the flat. “You were the one who suggested that movie.”

Sokka mutters a quick curse under his breath that he hopes she didn't catch. “Well,” he starts a bit insistently as he kicks off his shoes, “maybe it just wasn’t that funny.”

“It was though,” she mutters. When he swirls around to look at her however, her face is not pulled into any kind of frown, instead, she still has that dumb smirk plastered on her face. He immediately ducks his head. “But you were a bit distracted, weren’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He shrugs nonchalantly as he turns to head to his room.

Katara’s in front of him before he even reaches the end of the hallway. “Oh please.” She points a somewhat accusatory finger in his face. “You’ve been acting weird around him ever since school started!”

“Have not!” Sokka lies wholeheartedly. He knows she’s right but he won’t admit that. “Believe me Katara, it’s nothing.”

She opens her mouth, one finger pointing in the air, ready to respond, but he’s already closed his door between them.

Sokka hopes she will just let it go.

Katara does not let it go. She brings it up almost every other day. Sokka is really trying to be subtle but it is very difficult to ignore Zuko because everything the guy does is endearing.

When Zuko looks at Sokka, his golden eyes warm with something Sokka can’t quite decipher, Sokka’s brain kind of grinds to a halt as the world dims around them. When Zuko talks to the others, Sokka finds himself glancing at his lips every so often, they really just look so soft, despite the dry winter air. The fact that Zuko usually has his hair tied back with that blue hair tie also spreads a warm sensation inside Sokka. And Zuko puts aside time to spend with Sokka, just the two of them, every now and then, and they talk for hours and hours and it’s Sokka’s favourite part of his life. He always feels lighter after those hangouts.

So yeah, Katara has plenty of evidence for Sokka’s crush, and after an evening spent at the Jasmine Dragon, Katara seems to have had enough. When Sokka for the fifth time since school started says it’s nothing, she snaps.

“Are you actually stupid!?” she exclaims. “I mean come on! I know you like him!”

Sokka bites his lip and looks down at their living room carpet. “I mean, it doesn’t matter if I do,” he mutters. “We’re friends.”

Katara inhales sharply and when he turns to look at her, she has a look close to fury in her eyes. “Are you fucking blind!? Have you seriously not seen how he looks at you!?”

That is a statement that throws Sokka off completely, because what exactly is she trying to imply? That Zuko likes him? That’s just… huh. Small touches send sparks through Sokka’s veins, does Zuko feel it too? Sokka sneaks glances at Zuko all the time and sometimes finds Zuko is already watching him, and sometimes when Sokka looks at him, Zuko glances his way before ducking his head. The image of the back of Zuko’s head as Sokka was braiding his hair crosses Sokka’s mind, his ears had been red. At the time, he had written it off as the cold but now… Is it possible that Zuko actually does like Sokka as well?

He blinks at his sister before slowly shaking his head. No, he hadn’t really thought about it until now.

“Ugh!” Katara throws her head back in clear frustration. “You are such an idiot sometimes,” she mutters.

“How was I supposed to know?” he counters. “Like come on, I’ve had a lot on my mind!”

“Can’t believe I have to deal with this,” she mutters to herself before meeting his eyes once more. “He’s less subtle than you and you still manage to miss it.”

Again, Sokka’s left with little to say in form of a response. Is that even possible? Sokka’s certainly never seen Zuko fall into any canals around him. “Now you’re exaggerating,” he mutters.

She raises an eyebrow at him. “Excuse me, were you not there when he dropped an entire pot of tea mid-pour when you said he looked cute in his uniform?”

“I mean–” he starts. That was like two months ago, Sokka was not in a great place back then.

“Or,” she interrupts before he can continue, “when Suki said the way to your heart was through your stomach and he asked if you ever wanted to come over for dinner not even ten minutes later?”

“That doesn’t–”

“What about the time I asked about the blue hair tie and he went red as a tomato as he tried to explain he got it from you?”

“But that’s like–”

“Also, at his first movie night–”

“Okay, okay,” Sokka interrupts her this time. “I get it. You don’t have to keep going.”

“I sure hope so.” She levels him with a bored look and all he can do is turn his head away.

“It doesn’t matter,” he mumbles. “I can’t really act on it right now anyway.”

Despite not looking at her, he senses the change in her demeanor at that and when she speaks again, her voice is soft and earnest.

“That is a very mature conclusion to come to,” she says.

“You say that as if you’re surprised,” he jokes halfheartedly, looking back at her, but she knows him too well to take the bait of deflection.

“Just…” She places a hand on his knee, rubbing it gently with her thumb. “You have no reason to hide it from me.” She pauses for a second before continuing lightheartedly, “We both know I’m the last person who has the right to judge you on taking things slow.” She smiles at him and he can’t help the snort that escapes him.

Katara and Aang had made it official back in November but, well…

“I won’t go have an unofficial relationship for a year,” he promises.

She slaps his knee playfully. “It was not a year,” she grins. “More like… ten months.”

“A year,” he says with a nod.

She huffs a short laugh before getting off the couch. “Feel free to talk to me about it,” she offers before she disappears down the hallway and into her room, leaving him alone with his thoughts on the couch.

Chapter Text

The grass is soft and damp beneath them, it tickles his neck and is definitely staining the blue fabric of his jumper but he doesn’t really care. The sky above is clear and visible in a way it just isn’t in the city.

“Do you see that cluster of stars, right above the moon?” she asks, pointing at a small group of stars in an uneven zigzag line.

“Yeah.”

“That’s the Crown of Tui.”

Sokka tilts his head to the side, the grass tickling his neck as he does. “It’s not really shaped like a crown,” he mutters.

Yue chuckles. “Of course it is, you’re just looking at it wrong.” She sits up and he follows suit.

“Are you–” He doesn’t even have the chance to finish the question before she has her star atlas in her lap, quickly flipping through it with practiced speed before stopping and tilting it so it’s easier for him to see.

“Look,” she says, pointing at one of the pictures that definitely looks similar to the constellation she just pointed to. “It’s important to include the less bright stars as well.

He squints his eyes at the picture. “I… still don’t see it.”

“There’s five points,” she says, pointing at each star that helps form the zigzag line at the top in the book, “then you look at these four, that form a circle at the bottom.” She draws an invisible circle with her finger, connecting them.

It’s a bit disfigured and askew, but he sees it now. He looks back at the stars in the sky. “It’s pretty cool.”

“Right?” Yue’s turquoise eyes seem to sparkle in the night, more brightly than during the day despite the lack of light to reflect them. She always looks more alive at night. “We’re pretty much at the exact right angle right now, later at night it falls off her head.”

“Huh.” He tilts his head a bit, he actually does kind of see it. “I never really thought about it,” he admits, “it was just… little dots.”

Yue hums, melancholic. “The stars used to be such an important part of our culture,” she mumbles as she closes the book and puts it aside once more, “it’s a shame we don’t really teach it anymore.”

~

“Yeah…” Sokka agrees with the memory, “it is.”

The sky is clear but the city light dulls it. The moon is half and it’s too late at night for her crown to sit on her head, but that seems fitting, somehow. It’s left her head empty as the date he’s been dreading for the past year arrives once more.

He takes one last pull at his cigarette before muttering, “I’m sorry,” into the chilly night air, putting out his cigarette on the roof before leaving the filter in his jar with a sigh.

“Happy birthday, Yue,” is the last thing he tells the night before closing his window.

The snow still lay thick, like a heavy blanket over Agna Qel’a as they make their way through the quiet cemetery. The whole gaang – minus Zuko – are there today, to try to celebrate the life of someone who died over a year ago. They stop by the bench and Sokka hates himself for making them stop here. They should just walk over without him, greet their friend.

But they don’t. They stay by his side. Hakoda is the one who gives her her flowers today, while the five of them stay by the bench. Sokka has already tried convincing them enough that he’s given up; if he stays by the bench, they stay as well.

Eating mooncakes without Yue was definitely strange, they had done it last year too but… well, he himself hadn’t eaten any last year, he just watched the others eat them… but still. It was still weird.

Just like last year, Aang baked the mooncakes himself, specifically Yue’s favourite flavour, sweetened water chestnut. It still hurts, but it is also kind of nice to sit together in silence.

It’s not a good day, not even an alright day, but he doesn’t stay until midnight, so it’s progress.

The Jasmine Dragon is practically empty when Sokka steps inside, which makes sense since they close in like twenty minutes, but it’s still nice. Iroh smiles at him warmly from behind the counter and Sokka tries his best to reciprocate it as he walks up to him.

“If it isn’t Sokka,” he greets. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Oh, do I need a reason to visit my favourite uncle?” Sokka grins at him and is rewarded by a low laugh.

“Of course not, now, what can I get for you today?”

“I was hoping for some of that Red-Blooded Nephew tea of yours, if I’m not too late?”

Iroh shakes his head, waving him off as he quickly puts the order into the cash register. “It’s never too late to make tea for my favourite Pai Sho rival. Say, would you be interested in a round?”

Sokka shakes his head with a chuckle as he pays for his discounted tea. “Another day, another day.” He sighs as he looks around the shop. “On the topic of red-blooded nephews however, where do you have yours this evening?”

The man shakes his head again, gesturing towards the door across the teashop as he walks towards the kitchen. “He’s out back,” he tells him, “probably smoking. Feel free to go talk to him, I’ll leave the tea at the table by the door!”

Sokka nods a bit to himself as Iroh disappears into the kitchen. “Thanks…” It’s probably ill advised to go but Sokka really hoped he’d catch him here so he crosses the shop and presses the code on the handle real quick before slipping outside.

Zuko’s eyes are immediately on him and Sokka offers a small smile as he pulls out a cigarette of his own. “Mind if I join you?”

“Knock yourself out,” he mutters, offering Sokka a small flame to light his cigarette on. “How was it?”

Sokka shrugs, taking a pull at his cigarette, feeling some of the stress wash off him at finally getting some nicotine in his system. “Bearable.”

Zuko nods. “That’s a start,” Zuko offers, taking one last pull of his cigarette before putting it out and immediately lighting another.

Sokka hums in silent agreement. It is a start to handle it decently well. Last year definitely didn’t go as smoothly. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

Zuko takes a pull at his cigarette and nods again. “Did I ever tell you how bad Uncle is at keeping plants alive?” he asks, casually changing the subject.

Sokka raises his eyebrows. “Don’t you have like a hundred house plants?” he asks. “And a garden? Like I’ve seen it– back when–” He feels himself flush a bit at the sheer ridiculousness of his previous habit of staring at their house. “Uhm, you know.”

Zuko smiles with clear amusement. “Yeah–” He leans a bit closer (which definitely doesn’t make Sokka flush even deeper for entirely different reasons), lowering his voice as if it’s conspiratorial. “–but I’m the one taking care of them.”

Sokks gapes at him. “You garden?”

Zuko shrugs, leaning back against the wall. “I really like plants,” he says earnestly.

Sokka blinks at him, feeling a bit stupefied. He definitely didn’t take Zuko as the gardening type. Shaking his head, he takes a deep pull at his cigarette, wondering how this had never come up before. “What else have you been hiding from me?” he jokes, jabbing his cigarette in Zuko’s direction.

Zuko just huffs with some amusement before taking a pull of his cigarette. “My mum and I used to spend all day in the garden,” he tells him with an almost shy smile, “it was her happy place, so it was mine as well.”

Sokka nods slowly. “What flowers did you keep?”

Zuko tilts his head, taking a pull of his cigarette as he thinks for a moment. “Well,” he starts, “plenty of rose bushes, peonies, camellias… we had a few silver wisteria trees but they didn’t need too much tending.”

“Sounds pretty… well, pretty.”

Zuko smiles. “It was. We had a pond too.”

“Oh? What did you keep? Koi fish?”

Zuko shakes his head. “Turtleducks, actually.”

“Huh.” Sokka pulls at his cigarette. “I’ve only ever seen those in pictures.”

“Yeah, they’re not very fond of the cold, unfortunately.”

“Ah, like you,” Sokka states, “you could be a turtleduck, I see it.” Zuko levels him with an unimpressed look but he only grins back. “I mean, you clearly dislike the cold, bet you’re exhausted considering all the heat regulation you’ve been keeping up all winter.”

“You’re jealous,” Zuko shoots back with a smile.

“Of course I am,” Sokka exclaims, “but keeping you around is definitely beneficial, it’s a bit like having a personal heater.”

“Ah, I see how it is,” Zuko says sardonically, taking a pull of his cigarette. “You guys really are just friends with me because of my firebending abilities.”

“Obviously,” Sokka agrees, joining in on the joke and Zuko snorts. He takes another pull of his cigarette before asking, “So what’s your favourite?”

Zuko raises an eyebrow at him. “Favourite what?”

“Ah, right,” Sokka chuckles. “Favourite flower.”

Zuko hums, scratching his chin as he considers for a moment. “Probably fire lilies.”

Sokka frowns. “Never heard of.”

“Nah, they’re pretty unique to the Fire Nation,” Zuko explains, “but they’re orangey-red Amaryllidaceae flowers, so technically not lilies but they are related.”

“I see?” Sokka tries. He’s not completely sure what that means since he never really cared about botany, but he’ll take Zuko’s word for it.

Zuko scratches the side of his neck, face flushing ever so slightly. “I can just show you a picture.”

“Do you still keep fire lilies?” Sokka asks as Zuko pulls out his phone.

“No,” he replies shortly, “they wouldn’t do well up here.”

Sokka suddenly feels very stupid for asking. “Makes sense.”

Zuko shoots him a smile before turning his phone to show him a picture and yeah, Sokka can definitely see why they would be Zuko’s favourite.

“They’re really pretty, kind of remind me of your eyes,” he blurts out, not really thinking about it until he looks back up at Zuko and sees the startled look on his face. “I mean– uhh– they’re like golden, in the centre– like your eyes–” Spirits, he just made it worse, didn’t he? Feeling his face flush, he ducks his head, taking a deep pull at his cigarette. “Ignore me.”

Zuko is very quiet and Sokka has half the mind to just leave, but when he dares glance back at Zuko’s face, he’s just watching him and… yeah, Katara really wasn't kidding when she said Zuko looked at him in a certain way.

Because Zuko’s cheeks are tinted pink as he smiles at him, a smile that seems almost subconscious in nature but still so, so warm, and Sokka automatically smiles back even though he wants something more. The urge to just take one step across the small alley and reach out his hand to–

“Uhm,” Sokka starts, scratching his neck a bit unsurely, mind already kind of reeling a bit to get away from the sudden desire to get closer, “I never really kept plants but I always liked spring flowers.”

Zuko nods slowly, something unreadable flickering across his features for a split second. “You get a whole other type of experience with those up here.”

“Yeah,” Sokka agrees, “I really like daffodils, and liverworts, and like, the really early ones like crocus and snowdrops and winter aconites– uhm, those have already started blooming so– yeah, very early spring flowers.”

Zuko blinks at him, some amusement tinting his features. “What’s your favourite?” he asks simply.

Sokka bites his lip for a moment, fidgeting a bit with the filter of his cigarette to get the remaining bit of tobacco to fall out. “Probably snowdrops.”

“Great pick,” Zuko says, putting out his cigarette, “although the wrong one.”

Sokka blinks at him as he passes him to open the door with his key tag. “What’s the right one then?”

“Magnolias,” he tells him with a smirk, “obviously.” With that he pulls open the door and steps back inside the teashop.

“Damn, didn’t know I could be wrong about my favourite flower,” Sokka mutters, following him inside and immediately grabbing his promised cup of tea from the table by the door.

Zuko simply shrugs and sends him a grin that makes Sokka’s heart swell before disappearing into the kitchen.

Yeah, Sokka’s got it bad.

Look, it’s not like the fantasies started with intent.

He didn’t start imagining what it would be like to kiss Zuko because he tried to, it just progressed that way naturally and it’s honestly really annoying how he can’t look at him without thinking about how nice it could be.

No, Sokka doesn’t want to want to hold Zuko in his arms while they’re watching movies and he doesn’t want to think about how nice it would be to run his fingers through Zuko’s hair, and he doesn’t want to get distracted by his lips while he talks. But Sokka’s heart and eyes and hell, even his brain, seem to all be in agreement that fantasising about Zuko is a great pastime whenever he’s around. Which results in his typical idiotic behaviour that usually occurs whenever he has a crush, like saying stupid things and hurting himself.

“Did I really tell him anyone would miss his pretty face?” he groans to himself, pushing his hands through his loose hair as he stares at the ceiling. “For fucks sake!” That was months ago! Has he seriously liked him all this time?

Thinking back, looking at the small touches that made his skin tingle, at the way his heart kind of clenched as he tried to assure Zuko he really did find him beautiful… he seriously had the thought ‘he looks like the sun when he smiles’ ridiculously early on in their friendship.

Yup, the crush has been brewing. Katara is right, he really is so fucking stupid.

For the love of La, he walked into a row of lockers in front of him on his way to class the other day! A row of lockers that have always been there and that Sokka knows damn well to be there yet somehow missed!

He rolls onto his side with a groan.

Fuck, he actually said he was gonna be a hot villain while Aliyah was adding some finishing touches to his costume last Thursday, didn’t he?

“‘At least your villain is gonna be hot,’” he grumbles, echoing his exact words while staring at his wall. Zuko had been right there!

Aliyah had laughed and Zuko had choked.

“You’re a fucking disaster, Sokka,” he tells himself.

Distance, distance, distance. It is easier said than done to keep your distance from your best friend who’s also in your class and at your after school activity and at your favourite café because he fucking works there because his uncle fucking owns the place… Still, Sokka thinks he manages just fine. He stands a couple metres away during smoke breaks and tries to ignore the invisible string tugging him towards Zuko, he makes sure he keeps his distance from the rehearsals – that have really picked up lately – during Drama Club, and he even starts sitting on the floor at movie night!

And yeah, that one might be a bit excessive but it is genuinely torture to have Zuko right next to him. Soft, black hair brushing against Sokka’s shoulder; accidental touches that could be so much more; the way Zuko always smells like tea which is extremely distracting and Sokka can’t stand it…

So he sits on the floor. Katara had sent him a rather sharp glare the first night he did, muttering something about him being stupid, he shot back something about her not understanding the urge to sit on the floor because she’s the token straight friend, Toph and Suki had laughed, end of story.

Did he ever really stop to think about what that one in particular might look like from Zuko’s perspective? Sure (and yes, maybe he just did because Katara had pointed out he’s gonna make Zuko think he’s done something wrong but he still acknowledges it), and he does feel a bit guilty… but he really can’t sit pressed together with Zuko on Suki’s couch or he’ll lose his mind. And it’s not like he avoids Zuko completely! All he’s doing is putting a bit of distance between them which really shouldn’t be too suspicious. Hopefully.

Zuko is paying more attention to the slowly falling snow outside the classroom window than Ms. Ila’s monologue, which is very fair since it’s about the Unification Wars of the Fire Islands, which is uninteresting enough to Sokka so he can only imagine it’s even less interesting to someone from the Fire Nation.

Sokka shouldn’t be watching Zuko right now, it would probably be far better to doodle or something while Ila talks but his eyes had just locked in on Zuko and it’s really hard to keep them away. His hair looks as soft as ever and Sokka can practically smell the Jasmine despite sitting two rows back from him.

The oversized band hoodie he’s wearing looks awfully cozy and Sokka’s traitorous mind has offered the thought ‘I’m stealing that when we get together’ before he has the chance to stop himself. It’s a stupid thought because Sokka is nowhere near ready for that and he’s still not entirely convinced Zuko actually likes him back, but it’s what his mind throws at him anyway.

“Like I said last week, we’re starting this semester’s art/history project this week,” Ms. Ila announces, optimistic as ever, and even Zuko turns to watch her so Sokka guesses he’ll do as well. “We’re going to focus on ancient civilisations! There are no strict limitations, I just want you to make something physical, like a three dimensional box, a scrapbook, a painting, you name it. You’ll have to include information, preferably as part of the art project but if you wish to hold a verbal presentation, feel free. I have already put you into groups so–”

Sokka sighs. He’s not sure who exactly thought it was a good idea to put history and art together, if it was Ms. Ila’s own idea that the principal just went along with – which, knowing Ila, he wouldn’t be surprised – or if it predates her employment at the school and she just embraced it. It didn’t matter, it was annoying either way.

“Sokka,” she starts, catching his attention again, “and Zuko. Then we have…”

Sokka blinks. Of course. Just his typical luck. Sure, why not, more time with his crush that he’s trying to repress! Really, why not?

Zuko sends him a tight smile – an expression Sokka’s only ever seen on him before when dealing with a very particular brand of overly polite customers – which seems… odd. Still, Sokka isn’t thrilled about it either so he sends back what he can only assume is a similar expression and accepts that this will happen whether he wants it to or not.

Chapter Text

There’s a tenseness over them during movie night that Sokka hates. It seems as though him trying to take steps towards healing his relationship with his old friends while also actively avoiding to face his feelings for his new friend is messing with his relationship with Zuko.

And like yeah, that’s definitely his fault because he’s an idiot but after some consideration (and a couple of instances of Katara berating him), he started sitting on the couch again. But Zuko seems very tense about that so now Sokka has absolutely no idea what he’s supposed to do! Should he stay on the couch? Should he go back to the floor? Which is worse?

“Pick your poison,” Toph tells him unprompted and Sokka wants to bash his head into the wall.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks her and she just shrugs.

“It means you’re an idiot,” Suki mutters from where she’s scrolling through the movie suggestions, seemingly very bored of the situation. The only people who seem to miss the point are Aang and Zuko.

“Leave me alone,” he grumbles, sinking back into the couch.

“Yeah yeah,” Toph dismisses with the wave of a hand, “just stop being so damn tense, you’re gonna give me over tension if you keep that up.”

Sokka wants to point out that he isn’t the whole problem. But then, maybe he is. So instead he gets up, announcing, “I’m getting a cigarette to spare the gremlin’s back.”

“Thanks for the kind consideration!” Toph calls after him at the same time Suki tells him they’re gonna pick a movie without him but he honestly doesn’t care.

The courtyard is dull and empty and the melting snow paints the ground grey to match the clouded sky. He doesn’t sit down at the dirty picnic tables, instead he leans against the wall as he lights his cigarette with a sigh. He has a lot of work to do. Not only does he need to fix what he’s seemingly messed up with Zuko, he should really find Yuki and Eske and clear things up with them. Maybe Teo too while he’s at it, although Teo isn’t as left in the dark considering they still go to the same school while the other two have graduated.

The smoke fills his lungs and the stormy sea calms a bit around him as he pulls out his phone. They deserve better than what he left them with, especially after that night at the festival, and he needs to collect his thoughts before he tries and messes up further.

“You good?” Zuko’s voice makes him flinch, nearly choking on the smoke he just inhaled as he looks up at the firebender.

“Sorta?” he replies vaguely. He didn’t expect Zuko to follow him out.

The other boy nods as he lights a cigarette of his own. “What you doing?” he asks, gesturing to Sokka’s phone.

“Uhm…” Sokka looks down at his half-coherent, rambly apology/explanation, unsure how to explain it. “Just… collecting my thoughts, I guess.”

Zuko hums. Then it’s quiet and Sokka’s unsure if he should ask how Zuko is doing, why he’s acting weird, if Sokka did something wrong. Or if he should just stay on topic and tell him exactly what he’s writing and why. Or maybe he should just stay quiet for once in his damn life. Luckily, Zuko makes that call for him.

“Toph said I was giving her a headache,” he mutters and Sokka snorts, turning off his phone and dropping it into his pocket.

“I swear, she uses her seismic sense to get rid of people sometimes.”

“Definitely,” Zuko mutters, taking a pull at his cigarette, “I don’t even know what I did, I was just sitting there.”

“Dude, same.”

“No,” Zuko disagrees, taking a pull at his cigarette, “you were definitely being weird.”

Sokka raises an eyebrow at him. “And you weren’t?”

Zuko blinks at him. “No?”

Sokka could argue that yes, he was being weird, has been all on edge all week, actually. He should ask if he’s okay. But then, what does Sokka even know? And what right does he even have to make such a claim when he’s the one who’s been avoiding Zuko? Maybe it’s all just in Sokka’s head. Maybe Zuko isn’t being weird, it’s just that Sokka has been acting so weird that he can’t even make out where his rigidity ends and Zuko’s begins.

“Huh,” is all he says in the end, and that’s where the conversation ends that night.

After they’ve both finished their cigarettes, they go back inside and watch the shitty horror movie Toph picked for the night, sitting slightly further apart than Sokka would like.

And on that note, the night ends, without Sokka getting the chance to have any further conversation with the firebender.

It’s Thursday morning and he hasn’t seen Zuko since movie night almost a week ago. When he hadn’t shown up on Monday he let it pass but when he didn’t show up Tuesday either, he did ask Mr. Aslak if he knew where he was. He was told the firebender was sick, which made sense but something about it didn’t sit right in him. So he texted, simply stating he heard he was sick and asking if he was okay. He still hasn’t gotten a reply on that.

Something kind of eases inside his chest when he spots Zuko in his usual seat when he enters the classroom.

“Nasty cold?” he asks bluntly as he leans against Zuko’s desk, making the guy flinch as he looks up at him with strangely dull eyes.

For a moment he just frowns at him and Sokka considers if he should apologise but then he shrugs, looking back out the window. “Something like that.”

Sokka hums. “Feeling any better?”

“I guess.”

Sokka is strangely brought back to that first day of school, back in September, when Zuko adamantly looked just about anywhere but his group mates for the better part of the conversation. How he had muttered short, minimal responses, actively keeping himself closed off. That just concerns Sokka further.

“Uhm, is everything–”

The bell rings again, disrupting Sokka’s question and it’s only a matter of moments before Mr. Aslak would tell him off for not being seated again so with a sigh he takes a step towards the empty seat in the back.

“Talk to you later?” he asks for some reason. He’d never felt the need to check that they’ll talk after class before but today… Well, something definitely feels off.

“Sure,” Zuko agrees and for now, Sokka will take it.

When the bell rings, Zuko is gone, which… is kind of strange. He assumes he’s probably out smoking then but he isn’t and he never shows up out there either. He sees him again in their next class but the guy manages to disappear right before the bell for lunch rings and he doesn’t join them for a smoke, or for lunch.

Suki asks him if Zuko is still sick and he tells her no, he’s just being strange. The others seem slightly concerned but nowhere near as worried as Sokka is.

The first time he manages to actually talk to him is during elective study assembly in their home classroom, because Zuko has to be there and there’s no teacher there to get mad at them for talking.

“So,” Sokka prompts casually as he plops down on Zuko’s desk, “haven’t seen you a lot today.”

Zuko shrugs. “Been reading,” he tells him.

Sokka nods slowly. “Anything good?”

“Nothing worth noting,” he mutters and all Sokka can do is sigh and change gears, because even though he wants to talk about whatever is going on, they have stuff to do.

“Well… how about we go to the library to get going with our project?”

“Sure.”

The walk to the library is short but awkward and Sokka is once again reminded of the first day of school, when they walked to the smoking spot behind building four in a similar awkward silence. Difference today is of course that neither Toph or Suki will be in the library to save them from whatever it is that brought this upon them. Instead Zuko goes to collect a few books while Sokka opens his laptop and they continue not saying a word to each other.

With a sigh, Zuko closes another book before picking up the next from the pile beside him. Sokka is not even sure what he’s currently looking for but he doesn’t feel like he has the right to ask either. Which is stupid! It’s a group project for La's sake! It’s just… Zuko seems a lot tenser than usual and, at this point, Sokka is a bit worried he might be to blame for it.

Sokka should technically be looking for information on his laptop but he gave up on that like ten minutes ago and has just been switching between staring blankly at his screen and stealing glances at Zuko who, despite his tense posture and tight face, looks handsome as ever. It honestly shouldn’t be allowed to be that good looking, it’s highly distracting.

Turning back to his screen, Sokka huffs out an annoyed puff of air through his nose.

The Mysterious Origins of the Glacial Temple of the South.

The document sits entirely empty save for a few prompt questions they’ve been given by Ms. Ila, ‘Is this civilisation still around today? If not, what happened?’ ‘Are there practices, rituals, or other spiritual beliefs that have influenced the modern day culture of the area?’ etc etc. It was difficult to answer some of the questions when not even historians could answer what the people who built the Glacial Temple were using it for, or who they even were. Ugh, why did they pick this one anyway? Sure, it will gain them points for picking one no one else dared to touch but they’ll probably fumble because of it. They should’ve just gone for the Sun Warriors or ancient Air Nomads like everyone else.

He glances back at Zuko who seems to finally have found something even remotely interesting, currently glancing back and forth between the book and the notes he’s scribbling in his notebook with furrowed eyebrows. It takes a moment before Zuko drops his pen and turns his full attention back to his book.

“Found anything?” Sokka asks then, trying for lighthearted and relaxed but Zuko doesn’t even spare him a glance as he shrugs. Sokka nods, clicking his tongue before looking back at his screen. He should probably try to get some form of research done as well.

“Aang,” Sokka starts as he takes his seat next to the airbender in the cafeteria, “I am willing to do just about anything, just please help me.”

“Sure!” Aang grins, at which Katara raises an eyebrow at him.

“Maybe ask what he needs help with first?”

“Oh, right,” Aang agrees and Sokka resists the urge to scowl at his sister, “thanks sweetie!” He turns to Sokka. “What do you need help with?”

Sokka sighs. “It’s our art/history project,” he explains and Aang’s smile immediately widens, “it’s so dumb, we picked the glacial temple at the South Pole and I already firmly regret that decision.”

“Oh, but that is so interesting though!” Aang exclaims.

“I thought so too,” Sokka agrees, “but there’s like zero information about it!”

Toph barks out a laugh. “You’re screwed,” she says simply and Sokka sends her a pointless glare before deciding to simply ignore her.

“Why don’t you switch?” Katara asks and Sokka groans.

“Because Zuko doesn’t want to,” he mutters. Katara sends him a knowing smirk which he promptly ignores as well.

“Hmm, I see,” Aang says sagely. “Well! I could probably help a bit at least, if Zuko doesn’t mind.”

Sokka nods. “I’ll ask him.”

Zuko is still difficult to get a hold of. Sokka isn’t sure where he disappears to between classes at the moment and the firebender hasn’t replied to anyone in well over a week so even when he texts him, he’s unsurprised by the lack of response. The guy disappears as soon as the bell rings and no amount of hanging around the library or the auditorium or even the Jasmine Dragon bears any fruit whatsoever.

Iroh shrugs when he asks about his nephew.

“He’s busy,” he tells him and Sokka wants to believe him but he just knows he’s leaving something out.

“Could you at least tell him to text me?” he tries. “We have a group project and I can’t even get a hold of him to plan it.”

The man hums. “That I can do.”

The text comes the next morning.

Turtleduck [07:41]:
Jasmine Dragon after school. Feel free to bring Aang.

Well, at least that means Zuko has read Sokka’s earlier texts. Sokka shoots back a simple thumbs up and then all he has to do is hope Aang has nothing else to do this afternoon.

What Sokka already knew, and is sure Zuko knows as well, is that the Jasmine Dragon is quite a busy place in the afternoon. It’s near Agna Qel’a University so the uni students flock to the café on weekdays, especially when exam period is coming up. Like right now, in mid March. So Sokka’s not entirely sure why the other picked this spot but he did so here he is, walking into a packed teahouse and wishing to be just about anywhere else.

Still, Iroh beams at him as he enters, which is admittedly nice. “He’s at your usual table,” he tells him and Sokka offers a simple nod as thanks.

Zuko sits in his usual spot in the booth, a book splayed open on the table next to his notebook. Seems he’s already gotten started then.

“Aang will be here in a bit,” Sokka says as he slides into the booth across the table from the firebender, who jumps at his sudden appearance. Then he sighs, gives a simple nod, and looks back down at his book and Sokka frowns.

The guy honestly looks like he hasn’t slept in like a week, unkempt hair tied up in a messy bun, the skin under his right eye tinted purple, and skin in general even paler than usual. He’s also scowling, kind of. Well, at least Sokka can tell he’s not too happy about being here either.

“Dude, you okay?” Sokka asks after a few moments of just looking at him.

“Sure,” he mutters tonelessly, eyes still fixed firmly to the book in front of him.

Sokka narrows his eyes at him. “Are you really sure?”

Zuko shrugs.

“Like, not to be rude, but I feel like as your friend, I have to tell you what a hot mess–”

Zuko sighs deeply, effectively cutting him off. “Don’t you have work to do?” he asks, still not looking at him.

“Right, sorry.”

He opens his messenger bag to pull out his laptop, fully intending to actually get stuff done before Aang gets there and, yes, he probably should take the hint at this point, but ‘taking a hint’ was never really Sokka’s strong suit, and he’s even worse at shutting the fuck up.

“Zuko, seriously, is everything–”

“Just mind your own fucking business!” Zuko snaps, finally meeting Sokka’s eyes with cold fury, and Sokka freezes, eyes going wide as his eyebrows raise into his hairline in utter confusion. He blinks at him a couple of times before Zuko swiftly turns his head away and blinks a couple of times to himself. After clearing his throat he mutters, “Sorry, just… let’s not, okay?”

“Right…” Sokka says, nodding. “Sure, we can totally… not.” He clears his throat as Zuko goes back to reading his book. And he totally intends to not but he should really apologise at least. “Uhm–”

“What?” Zuko barks, accompanied by a slightly less viscous glare than the last.

“Just, well, sorry,” he replies awkwardly, “I shouldn’t have pushed you, that was… unnecessary.”

Zuko seems to consider what to say for a moment. Then, with a sigh he looks back at his book, muttering, “Sorry for yelling at you.”

Well… Sokka will take that, for now.

Aang arrives soon enough and he manages to get the discussion going a bit. He’s done plenty of reading and talks excitedly about the idea that the ancient civilisation might have worshipped a forgotten spirit who took the shape of an otter penguin. Zuko chips in with something he read about the possibility that the temple actually housed the entire population of the South Pole back then, despite being so small, and Aang seems to agree that’s a theory worth exploring.

They don’t get super much done, but at least Aang helps them get anything done, not to mention Zuko seems way more open to talking with him there. Sokka tries not to ponder that too much.

The full moon of March is tonight and Sokka tells Katara he wants to go alone. She studies him for a good few moments before telling him okay. Her condition is that he lets her and Aang pick him up at nine o'clock and he thinks that’s a pretty fair deal.

The walk to the cemetery from the bus stop is spent hyping himself up. ‘You can do it Sokka!’ ‘It’s not impossible to walk to her lot, come on!’

Snowdrifts line the graveled path but is slowly melting as spring is making itself known and Sokka just knows how special it could be – how special it’s supposed to be. The flowers in his left hand have no thorns but they still sting as his grip around them tightens.

He doesn’t sit down at the bench but he still freezes at the edge of the small opening before the path continues. It should be easy, it’s just a few metres further down the path, a right turn and then he’d be there.

Sokka has no idea how long he’s stood staring at the peak of Yue’s gravestone by the time his shoulders flinches from his tense posture and the flowers fall to the ground. He doesn’t even bother to walk to the bench, he just picks them up as he sinks onto the ground, holding them to his chest like he’d die if he doesn’t keep them as close to his heart as possible. And maybe he would.

It’s a bouquet of moon flowers and forget-me-nots. The girl at the flower shop, Jin, doesn’t even ask what he’s getting anymore. She prepares the bouquet quietly, handing them to him with a gentle smile and then wishes him well. Tells him to say hi to his friend for her. He still hasn’t been able to do it. And tonight won’t be different.

At this point it’s not even that he’s sad, he’s just frustrated. It’s been over a year. He just can’t do it. He talked to Lana about it, she’s offered to go with him… but he wants to just spend time with his best friend, like they used to, like he should be able to, like a good friend should be able to. But he can’t.

Katara and Aang get there at nine, like Katara said they would. She takes the somewhat mangled flowers and brings them to Yue while Aang takes him back to Appa, telling him how it’s good for Appa to get some exercise every now and then even when he could just take the bus. Sokka already knows that, but it’s nice that they try to distract him from his failures.

Sokka’s pretty sure he can’t do anything right at this point, so maybe this is a terrible idea in of itself, but he has to do it at some point. So he swallows all his nerves and pushes the door to the lab open and he immediately has six pairs of eyes focused on him. He doesn’t know the new faces, and they don’t seem very sure of who he is or what he’s doing there either as they glance between each other. Teo, however, looks very surprised to see him.

“Sokka?” he asks after a few moments and all Sokka can manage is an awkward chuckle.

“Hi, uhm…”

Teo blinks at him before glancing towards the rest of the members. “I’ll be a minute,” he tells them and starts wheeling himself to the door. Sokka simply takes the step back and holds it open for him.

“It’s good to see you,” Teo says as the door clicks shut behind them and Sokka leans against the lockers by the window. “I mean like, actually see you.” Sokka barely manages to suppress a wince at that.

“It’s good to see you too.” He scratches the back of his neck “I… uhm, I just wanted to talk. Or, well, apologise, I guess. And talk. It’s… well, it’s been a lot hasn’t it.” He forces out another laugh as he looks away. “I wanted to talk to all of you but don’t know how to reach out to the others and like… La, now it sound like I’m just going to you to get to them which isn’t that case I just–”

Teo actually snorts at that, which has Sokka looking back at him and finds an amused smile on his lips. “Still overthinking everything then, glad you haven’t changed too much.” Sokka blinks stupidly at him and he just chuckles before going on. “Look, I need to get back to the others as soon as possible to make sure nobody accidentally starts a fire, even though I'd love to talk to you.”

Sokka nods. “Right, I’m sorry about just barging in during Science Society, I just didn’t know where else…” he drifts off at how Teo’s eyes narrow. “I’m doing it again.”

“You’re doing it again,” he confirms and Sokka chuckles.

“Sorry. Just–” He huffs out a sigh. “–I’m sorry. For how I handled it… for how I just disappeared and stopped talking to you three, that–that wasn’t cool of me.”

Teo nods. “Yeah, not your greatest moment,” he agrees, “but I kind of get it. I think… I think we could’ve all handled it better, if I’m honest.” Sokka raises an eyebrow at him but he just shrugs. “It's not as if any of us really tried staying in touch with you. Like, I think for me it was enough to just see you in school to know you were alive, and the others have had so much on their plate I don’t think they even realised you’ve been deliberately avoiding them, especially not Yuki. So like… I appreciate your apology, and I do think we should all talk at some point, but don’t beat yourself up too much over it.”

Taking a deep breath, Sokka nods. “I think that’d be nice– to meet all four, I mean.”

They wrap up the conversation pretty swiftly after that, Teo adds Sokka’s new account to their old Discord chat, then Teo returns to find the lab not on fire and Sokka’s relieved he’s managed to do at least one thing right since Yue died.

Chapter Text

Rehearsals keep Zuko pretty occupied, and they also keep Sokka relatively far away from Zuko without really making it seem suspicious, which is nice because Sokka doesn’t like actively avoiding him. Then, at some point during the last few weeks, he’s grown less sure he’s the one avoiding Zuko, or if Zuko is the one avoiding him.

Because he still asks if Zuko wants to join him for a smoke but he rarely does; and he still brings up their group project, suggesting times to work on it and stuff, but Zuko just says he’s busy; not to mention Zuko hasn’t joined game night once since the one right after Yue’s birthday, and that was almost a month ago at this point.

With a sigh, Sokka heads into the auditorium, only to find it in a state of chaos, which isn’t that unusual but… it’s definitely more chaotic than is typical.

“Sokka!” Taiki exclaims as soon as he spots him, “Please tell me you’ve heard from Zuko?”

Sokka blinks at him. “He’s not here?”

Taiki lets out a somewhat panicked shriek while Sokka just glances at Aang, who shrugs.

“Zuko hasn’t told anyone he wouldn’t be here,” he mutters as Sokka walks up to him, “and his extra is sick.”

“That is… odd.”

“Yeah,” Aang agrees, “and he doesn’t respond to messages or anything so we can’t even make sure he’s okay.”

Sokka hums. “Has anyone tried asking his uncle?”

“No?”

He nods. “I’ll give him a call.”

“You have his number!?” Taiki exclaims, staring at him. Sokka just shrugs. “Couldn’t you have said that earlier!?”

Sokka rolls his eyes with a sigh. So much for a chill evening at Drama Club. “Gimme a minute,” he mutters, pulling out his phone as he makes a beeline for the backroom. There are a few odd people back there as well but it’s far quieter and less panicked, since most of the club members and cast are out in the auditorium.

It’s a few signals before Iroh picks up. “My my, not every day you call your poor Uncle Iroh,” he greets and Sokka chuckles before offering a short greeting of his own. “Now, I’m certain you wouldn’t call during business hours without good reason, what can I do for you?”

“Uhm,” he starts, feeling a bit lost for words, “I just… Well, I just wanted to ask about Zuko, he’s… Uhm, like, he’s not at Drama Club and not replying to anyone so we’re getting kind of concerned.”

The man hums and Sokka assumes he’s currently stroking his beard. “He’s not feeling very well,” he explains slowly, “it’s not ideal that he didn’t tell anyone himself but you never know with that one.”

Sokka frowns. “He’s not sick, is he? I saw him in class earlier?”

“Not exactly,” Iroh replies cryptically, “but I’d assume he’s at home sleeping by now.”

Sokka nods slowly to himself. “Okay, uhm.” He forces himself to breathe around the heaviness in his chest before he continues, “I’ll tell them he’s sick then, I guess.”

“That’s probably wise. Now, I’d love to chat but I wouldn’t want to leave poor Nashi alone for much longer.”

Sokka huffs out a short chuckle, hoping it sounds somewhat believable. “No worries, I won’t hold you. Thanks for the help and, uhh, say hi to Nashi from me.”

“Will do. Take care Sokka.”

“You too Iroh,” Sokka mutters before quickly adding, “Oh, and, uhm… tell Zuko to get better soon.”

There’s a slight pause before Iroh warmly replies, “Of course.”

Then the call ends and Sokka is left feeling cold and hollow as he returns to the auditorium.

“Any luck?” Zerrah asks when she spots him, exasperated.

“Iroh says he’s…” He considers for a moment before finishing with, “unwell.”

“Cool.” Zerrah nods. “Cool cool cool cool cool. Okay. Yes. Very cool.” Clearly sent into a panic but not willing to show it, she spins around and walks over to Taiki before forcefully dragging him out of the room, most likely to panic with him away from the crowd.

“Well,” Aang starts from beside him, “we could still get some work done, right? Wouldn’t wanna waste the whole afternoon!”

“Sure,” Sokka replies absentmindedly, still staring at the closed auditorium door. This seems… very strange, very wrong. Still, Aang is right, they have stuff they can do to make the best of it.

Is he internally panicking as well? Yes. Probably not for the same reasons as Zerrah though, but panicking nonetheless. Thankfully, Aang is very good at being optimistic and distracting, so he’ll try his best to ignore the heaviness in his chest for now and allow his friend to drag him along to his wing prototypes in the backroom.

Sokka sends a quick text asking Zuko if he’s alright, then he forces himself to focus on his work best he possibly can.

Sokka takes a deep breath before he turns left down Tui Avenue. It’s been over a week and he can no longer dismiss the growing worry inside him, so here he is. He hasn’t been back since he first met Zuko back in June but it’s, unsurprisingly, pretty much the same as it was then. The trees don’t hold as many leaves and the sky is brighter, but otherwise nothing seems to have changed.

184 is on the opposite end of the road from him, just before the crossing with Moonbeam Lane. With every step closer to that damned townhouse, his heartbeat seems to accelerate. By the time he steps onto the driveway, the pounding in his ears is so overpowering that he can’t even hear his own footsteps. Still, he takes another deep breath before striding on ahead, up the driveway and grey brick steps until he’s at eye level with the pleasantly green wreath hanging on the far too familiar white door.

And then he stares for a few moments. Just stares. Stares at the aged white paint flaking off the door, stares at the branches and small leaves that make up the wreath, stares at the dark peephole that is definitely closed which is good because he’s being weird again. He glances at the window beside the door but no one is there either. He could still turn back, forget he went back here again, pretend he hasn’t been here since June, text Zuko yet another cheeky ‘just checking in on you’ and hope for a response that probably won’t come if the track record is anything to go by.

With a sigh he knocks on the door, choosing to ignore the clearly newly installed doorbell. Waiting is the worst, even if it’s only a few moments before the door opens.

Iroh gives an immediate short nod when the door reveals him, almost as if he expected it to be Sokka. “Sokka, my boy, to what do we owe the pleasure?” he says with a smile, stepping aside as he gestures for Sokka to come in.

“Uhm, well…” Sokka drifts off as he steps inside. It’s so different yet so similar. The sky blue wallpaper still seems to cover the entirety of the ground floor’s walls, the dark wooden floors look the same, as do the matching wood of the staircase. Still, the furnishing is very different, even just based on the little Sokka can see from the hallway. He can spot an armchair in a soft green colour in the living room, a yellow carpet lay under it, the coats in the hallway are a mixture of blacks and reds, and he spots a mostly red and golden painting on the wall by the stairs.

He has to force himself to shake his head and turn his attention back to Iroh, who is patiently waiting for him, seemingly unbothered.

“Right, uhh–” He clears his throat. “Well, Zuko hasn’t really responded to any of us and we haven’t seen him in a while so I just wanted to… make sure he’s okay?”

“Ah, yes.” Iroh nods knowingly. “My nephew can be quite a tricky one. Please, come in. Do you want tea?” He turns and walks back into the kitchen.

“Uhm, sure,” Sokka replies as he scrambles to get his trainers off before following him.

“Is everything alright?” he asks as he steps into the unfamiliar yet familiar kitchen that looks exactly the same but with a new dining area and a few pictures on the wall – there’s one with two boys at the beach, one looks a few years older than the other; one with Iroh and a baby; one of a young girl – family pictures, clearly.

Iroh hums as he pours a cup of tea and puts it on a tray, his back to Sokka. “This time of year is quite difficult for him,” he explains, turning to face Sokka. “It’s good that he has people who care about him, even when he goes into hiding.”

Sokka nods slowly, trying to make some kind of connection in his mind but not quite managing. “He’s not sick or anything?”

“Not in the typical sense,” Iroh sighs, grabbing the tray before walking over to Sokka. “Why don’t you go upstairs and talk to him? I think it would do him good.”

“Uhm… sure?”

Iroh offers him the tray with tea and a couple of buns. “It’s the furthest door to the right,” he tells him.

Sokka nods as he takes the tray, choosing not to tell Iroh he knows exactly which door belongs to Zuko, because he knows this house almost as well as he knows his own home. No, he doesn’t tell Iroh that, instead he turns and heads back to the stairs, walking carefully to make sure he doesn’t knock the teacups over. Because there are two of them, he realises as he walks upstairs. Iroh must’ve already poured one by the time Sokka got there.

The second floor is darker than it used to be, the walls having been painted a mossy green that absorbs the limited sunlight that’s slipping through the thin red curtains. There’s a matching red carpet on the floor, under a yellow armchair that stands next to a dark oak bookcase and a matching side table. It’s nice but different and Sokka has to swallow down the ache of it.

With a deep breath, he walks the short distance to Zuko’s door–

Yue painted stars on the door, wrote her name in constellations, it was beautiful, she was so talented.

–it’s a dark oak door, matching the rest of them. He blinks a few times, trying to catch his breath, calm his racing heart. Deep breath. He takes a look around, there’s a side table with a pale yellow tablecloth between Zuko’s door and that of the upstairs bathroom, he discards the tray there before knocking gently on the door.

It’s completely silent so he knocks again, a little harder.

“What?” comes Zuko’s voice from inside, just loud enough for Sokka to hear it through the door, he doesn’t sound very happy to have company.

Still, Sokka, unsure what to say, decides to just open the door, pushing down the handle just enough to slip it open a bit before retrieving the tray again.

“Uncle, I’m really not in the mood to talk,” Zuko grumbles as Sokka pushes the door open enough to step inside. The room is completely engulfed in darkness save for the sliver of light now making its way in from the hallway behind Sokka, the light cancelling curtains are drawn shut and not a single lamp is on. “Really, just–”

“Uhm,” Sokka says a bit awkwardly. The sound of shifting fabric is loud in the silence of the room and then a lamp next to the bed clicks alight.

Zuko is laying on the bed, hand still on the light switch of his nightstand lamp, and he’s just staring at Sokka. His hair is tied back in a messy bun but there are plenty of loose strands all around him, his eyes are a bit red and he’s even paler than usual. Iroh did say he wasn’t sick ‘in the typical sense’ but looking at the mess before him now, Sokka isn’t so sure.

“Hi?” he offers weakly and Zuko blinks at him, face blank with what seems to be disbelief.

Sokka grows more uncertain by each passing second and, honestly, a bit self conscious as well. But now he was here, and it was a bit too late to back out. What was Zuko thinking about? Should Sokka say something? Maybe he should just leave. Fuck, this was really weird, wasn’t it? He should–

“Sokka?” Zuko says then, voice coarse.

“Yup, that’s me,” Sokka responds stupidly, getting the urge to slap himself over how dumb it is but the tray in his hands thankfully doesn’t allow it.

Zuko sits up and rubs his good eye. “What are you–?”

“Well, uhm– Iroh sent me?” That was even more stupid. Sure, Iroh was the one who sent him upstairs with tea but he came here of his own free accord.

Zuko blinks at him again before jerking his head back, just like he did when inviting Sokka back to his porch almost a year earlier, this time to signal ‘come in’. Sokka walks over to Zuko’s surprisingly messy desk (Zuko’s always so neat and tidy at school, he didn’t expect his desk to have stuff on it at all) to put the tray down before turning back to Zuko.

“You can turn on the light,” Zuko mutters, “and close the door.”

Sokka nods and does as he’s told. He almost expected the light to reveal that the floor was in a similar state as the desk but it wasn’t really. There’s a pile of clothes in front of his dresser and a couple seemingly empty crisp bags under the desk, otherwise, the floor is mostly clean. The desk has a few dirty plates on it, a couple of glasses, a stack of papers, and some books. The walls of this room have been painted in a light violet, which surprises Sokka who definitely expected them to be red. He prefers this though, sure, the curtains and the bedding are red but the purple is nice, soft… and the ceiling is the same.

Yue’s walls were blue but the ceiling was a galaxy, spiralling around the moon-shaped ceiling lamp. She finished it just a year before–

“Uhm, sorry for the mess,” Zuko mutters, bringing Sokka back to the moment. He looks back to Zuko on the bed. The firebender is scratching his neck with one hand and petting something – yes, Sokka has forgotten what pet Zuko has, but he assumes it’s probably said pet – that’s hiding under the blanket beside him with the other. “Didn’t expect… anyone.”

Sokka blinks at him a couple times as the words catch up to him. “It’s no biggie,” he says, waving a blasé hand at him, “La knows my room has looked worse.” He offers a small smile and Zuko smiles back weakly before reaching in under the blanket to pick up the fire ferret hiding there. He slips down onto the floor wordlessly, holding the fire ferret to his chest as he does.

“Tea?” Sokka offers awkwardly, reaching for the tray again.

“Sure.”

He picks it up and takes a couple short steps before kneeling down to sit across from Zuko, putting the tray down between them.

Zuko takes the cup closest to him wordlessly, still staring at Sokka as if he doesn’t quite believe he’s there. It’s quiet for at least a minute while Zuko just sips at his tea and Sokka tries to ignore the fact that his gaze burns his skin as he picks up his own teacup to take a small sip.

“So, uhm… haven’t seen you in a bit,” Sokka says at last, trying his best to sound casual as he puts his cup down on the floor in front of him, “everything alright?”

Zuko blinks at him, slowly lowering his teacup and places it beside him. He takes a deep breath and the creature – that Sokka knows he’s been told the name of but doesn’t remember – raises its head towards his face with a soft whine. Zuko looks down on it and brings his now empty hand up to pet it gently.

“Spring is the worst time of the year,” he mutters and it explains absolutely nothing but Sokka can work with that.

“Okay…” He nods shortly. “Do you want to tell me why? No pressure, of course, I just–”

“No, it’s, uhm, it’s fine,” Zuko mumbles, looking back up at him with a sigh. “I mean, I’ve lived with it for four years now, right? Kinda gotta get used to it.”

Sokka nods as if he knows what he’s talking about but he’s pretty sure Zuko can tell how confused he is by his face alone.

“So like, firstly, it’s my birthday in like three weeks and that already sucks enough–”

“Wait, back up,” Sokka interrupts, “I’m pretty sure you said you’ve lived with it for four years and I’m pretty sure you’re older than four.”

Zuko snorts, amusement pulling at his lips. It’s nice to make him smile, even if it’s not as warm as Sokka would like it to be. “That’s not the big thing.”

“Of course,” Sokka replies, a bit flustered. “Just tried to be funny, bad timing, my bad, go on.”

Zuko shakes his head. “I appreciate it.” He takes a deep breath and looks back down on the fire ferret. “It’s four years ago, tomorrow,” he explains.

“Four years–” Sokka doesn’t even have time to finish the question before it hits him. “The–?” He doesn’t finish that question either but his eyes wander to the red, jagged skin surrounding Zuko’s left eye automatically, and Zuko definitely notices. He takes a laboured breath before nodding, turning away.

“Yeah, the burn,” he confirms. The fire ferret rubs its head against his chest. “I mean… I really am getting used to it. It’s permanently there you know? And like… therapy is great and… I don’t know. I honestly try not to think about it too much but the anniversary just catches me off guard, it’s like I can just–” He cuts himself off, taking a breath. “Uhm, like the nightmares come back and… and stuff. I’m, I’m rambling, sorry.”

Sokka just stares at him, at his face that is turned to give Sokka a proper view of the scar. Zuko must realise it, he never turns his head right like this, always so careful… It actually makes Sokka’s heart ache a bit. He doesn’t even want to know what Zuko thinks about himself.

“You can tell me,” Sokka offers, voice near a whisper in volume, “I’ll listen.”

Zuko bites his lip and nods, still not turning his head back. “I can’t see you right now,” he explains, “I’m almost completely blind on that side. Can’t hear super well on my left side either but the ear isn’t as useless as the eye.” He closes his eyes and ducks his head back down towards his pet. There’s a slowly forming pit somewhere deep in Sokka’s stomach.

“Doctors said I was lucky I didn’t lose the eye,” Zuko scoffs. “I didn’t feel very lucky to be alive if I’m honest.”

That is a statement that cuts into Sokka’s chest like a knife, sharp and burning with heartache. “Zuko…”

The firebender shakes his head. “Things changed. Most of it for the better, I think. Living with my uncle has been good.”

Sokka nods slowly as he pushes the urge to ask what happened down his throat, knowing better than to cross that line. Still, the implications of that statement has his blood running cold. “I’m glad you didn’t die,” he offers weakly, “I mean… it’s hard to imagine a life without you at this point.” Zuko looks back up at him and he has to force himself to meet golden eyes rather than look away. “I really care about you… as do the others. We’re happy you’re here.”

Zuko blinks at him a couple times but doesn’t really say anything. It’s a strange silence that seems almost holy, just the two of them and this sad room holding up the presence of the world.

After everything, Sokka and Zuko end up in front of Zuko’s laptop, on a guest futon Iroh dug out of the closet in the hallway, it’s a bit short for Sokka but he’ll manage. Zuko had asked him multiple times over if he was really sure he was fine with staying the night, which Sokka joked off after the third yes by telling him that he was a loud snorer so if anything, it should be Sokka asking him that. Besides, Zuko hadn’t been to a movie night in weeks at this point and Aang managed to convince them all to watch some historical drama last week that was just cheesy enough that he knew Zuko would enjoy it, so now they’re watching that.

It’s not the best movie they’ve watched lately, but the love story about two young women building a life together after being sent into exile is compelling enough. One was a former Air Nun from the Western Air Temple who had sought revenge on the spirit who killed her guardian, while the other had been one of the Fire Lord’s consorts until she was accused of poisoning a councilwoman.

All in all, it’s a fairly bittersweet story, just sappy enough for the firebender to be entirely engulfed by it. Sokka finds it a bit slow but better than the average historical love drama – definitely more interesting than Love Amongst the Dragons, anyway.

Zuko doesn’t say much as the movie plays, so neither does Sokka. It’s a bit weird how close they are, how easy it would be for Sokka to wrap an arm around Zuko, lean against him, or play with his hair. Would it be weird for him to do that? Probably. Zuko may need comfort but cuddling isn’t always the solution to that, even if it usually helps Sokka. Should he ask? Would that be weird? Is it weirder to ask or just do? Both are bad but which is worse? He should probably do neither… but he wants to! What a stupid internal conflict to have right now.

“During this time period, same-sex relationships were outlawed in the Fire Nation,” Zuko mutters.

Sokka nods. “Aang mentioned that.”

The firebender snorts. “Of course he did.” Then, with a sigh, he leans his head onto Sokka’s shoulder and shifts his weight slightly into his. It takes every bit of self restraint Sokka is capable of gathering to not freak out because no fucking way is this happening right now.

After a short moment of internal panic – that lasted just a bit longer than Sokka would have liked it to – he manages to take a somewhat subtle deep breath and lean into the warmth that is Zuko. Neither of them ever acknowledge it, as if it’s simply the most natural thing in the world to sit cuddled up together like this.

Chapter Text

“Did Yue paint it?” Zuko asks from his bed. It should catch Sokka off guard, but it doesn’t. In some strange way, he almost expected it. He glances towards Zuko and finds him staring at the ceiling.

Turning his head to look at it as well, he hums. “She loved space,” he explains, his mind calm and collected in the dimly lit room. “Her dream was to be an astronaut, but with her condition she was fairly certain it couldn’t be. Her backup plan was always to be an artist, at least if she couldn’t become an astrophysicist either for whatever reason.”

It’s quiet for a few moments and Sokka is a bit shocked but also relieved to find he really doesn’t mind talking about it, he also doesn’t mind the silence, or to lay in it with his thoughts. This is her room, even though it’s not, it is. Her room where she spent far more time than she wanted to, but always tried to make the best of being stuck in. She studied, or painted, or wrote, or played games, or passed the time in whatever other way she felt like.

“She joked she got so good at painting space because it was the only constant in her life.” The statement was so light, so natural. Just retelling the truth to someone who never knew.

“Is that funny?” Zuko asks. Sokka glances his way to find his head turned to watch him.

Sokka shrugs, looking back at the ceiling. “I think she found it funny. She spent a lot of time in here, just staring into space, in one way or another.”

There’s another beat of silence before Zuko replies, “It always makes me feel insignificant.”

“She did too. I think she liked it.”

There’s some shuffling and when he glances at the firebender this time, he’s sitting crosslegged on his bed, facing Sokka. He takes that as his cue to sit up as well.

“Who wants to be insignificant?”

Sokka shrugs again. “I think it was her way to cope with her own mortality. Having cheated death so early on in her life, she looked at her time as borrowed. If she was insignificant…” He drifts off, taking a breath as he tilts his head back against the wall to look at the ceiling so he can avoid looking Zuko in the eyes as his own water. There is a small lump in his throat but he’s not suffocating on it. “If she was insignificant, it didn’t matter if she died… because who would miss someone who never left a mark on the world in the first place?”

The water around him is way too calm. He’s never missed the ruthless sea more than he does now. Because he doesn’t break down into sobs, he doesn’t have to hold back his screams, he doesn’t choke on his breath. The only thing happening is tears slowly rolling down his temples and into his hair as he continues to stare at the ceiling. And it must be some cruel joke, because these statements couldn’t be further from the truth. He has never agreed with them, and he never will. Because Yue left her mark on the world by simply existing. She left her mark on everyone she met, simply by talking to them, by smiling in their direction, by waving at the kids walking past her window. She left her mark on this house by living in it, by breaking the porch light and helping pick a new one, by painting the ceiling in her room. She left her mark on her friends by hugging them, by making jokes, by giving them food that was either the most delicious thing ever or basically poison. She left her mark on Agna Qel’a Central Secondary by tutoring fellow students, by reviving Science Society, by being the class president for almost two years. She left her mark on Seaside Hospital by giving them some of her paintings, by getting to know half the staff by name, by leaving a handprint in the children’s ward. And just like she left her mark on everyone and everything else, she obviously left her mark on him.

She left her mark on Sokka by laughing when he offered her the tooth he lost during his first day at their pre-school before accepting it with a grin as if it wasn’t the first time they had even seen each other. She left her mark on him by promising Sokka he’d get the first tooth she lost. She left a mark on him by asking Ms. Gayu if he could stay with them inside during the next recess. She left her mark on him by describing how it feels when they put in a feeding tube, causing him to gag from the phantom sensation, all while she was being fed through hers. She left her mark on him by inviting him as one of two friends allowed to her sixth birthday celebration in the hospital’s cafeteria. She left her mark on him by letting him braid her hair. She left her mark on him by telling him about constellations. She left her mark on him by beating him at board games and video games alike. She left her mark on him by brainstorming science fair projects with him. She left her mark on him by inventing a communication system only they knew with him. She left her mark on him by telling him about the Spirit World when his mum died, and by reassuring him their mums definitely had each other now. She left her mark on him by spending Polar Night with him no matter if she was in or out of hospital. She left her mark on him by kissing him on a bridge when they were thirteen. She left her mark on him by being his first girlfriend for two months before they both agreed they loved each other but maybe not like that. She left her mark on him by taking a bet on who could get Suki to kiss them first when they were fourteen. She left her mark on him by pulling pranks on their friends with him. She left her mark on him by being his best friend for just over ten years. She could never be insignificant.

He’s not sure if Zuko’s talking, or even looking at him at this point. Maybe he’s grown bored, maybe he’s not sure what to say, maybe he hasn’t even noticed Sokka’s crying. Because the sea around him muffles all sounds and movement and it blocks out the light. The sea is calm in the darkness of night, and his hollow chest might’ve let in more water than he thought, because he might be sinking once more.

“But she wasn’t,” Zuko’s voice cuts through the water and Sokka is back in his room within the blink of an eye. Zuko is still watching him from his bed, forehead wrinkled in concern.

“No,” he agrees, “she wasn’t.” There’s a beat of quiet before Sokka decides this is too much and he needs to get his act in order. He wipes his face with his sleeve and straightens his back with a huff of laughter that is just a bit more forced than he’d like it to be. “Anyway! Sorry for… making it all weird.”

Zuko watches him for a few moments and Sokka has to make an active effort to not look away. “My cousin,” he starts slowly, “was a pilot…” Sokka nods slowly. He has been wondering, of course, but he’s not sure where exactly this is going. “He was fresh out of flight school… when he crashed into a mountain wall. Twenty-one years old, and just like that, he was gone.”

Sokka blinks at him. It does make sense, he supposes, but it still surprises him that Zuko dropped it so casually. “That… wow.”

“Not even a month later,” the firebender continues, leaning back to rest his back against the wall, “my mum ‘committed suicide.’” That statement is accompanied by air quotes. “At least if you ask my father.”

Sokka, once more, is left with very little to say, because what does one even say in response to that? “You… think he’s lying?”

The boy shrugs, turning his head to watch the curtains. “Azula may lie a lot… but knowing my dad…”

The pit in his stomach is slowly returning, but he is nothing if not curious, and clearly Zuko started this conversation knowing where it would lead, so he asks, “What did Azula say?”

Zuko is quiet long enough for Sokka to question if he overstepped after all. But then he sighs and tells him, “That he did it.”

For a good few moments Sokka sits with that piece of the puzzle, looking at it like it’s completely undecipherable. Then, within the blink of an eye, the true meaning of what he was just told hits him full force and his entire body runs cold as ice.

“What?” The question just slips out of him, completely out of his reasonable control, out into the quiet emptiness that they had been sitting in for at least a couple of minutes at this point.

“I mean, like I said, she does lie a lot…”

“But?”

“But, he would… I think we all know that he would.”

Now this is a new kind of strange silence, even to Sokka, and he’s been in some very awkward silences in the past. Not to mention that Sokka genuinely has no idea what to say to that because seriously what the actual fuck?

“Now I made it weird,” Zuko mutters rather casually and Sokka blinks at him. The boy offers a kind of smile and even though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, Sokka appreciates it.

“I’m… really sorry.”

Zuko shrugs. “It’s not as if I’m the only one with a dead mum.”

“Still, that–that is a whole other level of messed up.”

“I guess.”

It’s quiet for another few moments and Sokka isn’t quite sure what to make of it. On one hand, this discussion derailed completely from what’s going on in his mind, but maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe, this discussion is good for him too.

“My mum died in a gas explosion,” he mutters into the drawn out silence, pulling his left leg up to his chin, “real sudden you know.”

Zuko nods slowly. “I’m sorry.”

Sokka manages a half shrug as he sighs. “It’s weird, it really wasn’t all that long ago but… I don’t know, it’s hard to remember. Like one moment I’m in school, getting pulled out of class and the next– the next I’m at the funeral… I can’t even remember getting told about it.”

“Makes sense,” Zuko offers shortly and all Sokka has to do is raise an eyebrow for him to explain. “I mean, that must’ve been quite traumatic, sometimes the brain…” He takes a breath. “Well, sometimes the brain kind of decides that it’s better to just… not remember.”

All Sokka really has to say about that is a short, “Huh,” but Zuko seems to get the sentiment.

“Yeah, it’s definitely a bit of a double edged sword.”

“Yeah, I’ll say.” He observes the firebender for a bit, taking in the oddly calm look on his face and the way he seems so detached yet so present. “What did you lose?” It’s a risky question, but Zuko seems to have expected it because he doesn’t even blink.

“A lot,” he tells him simply, and Sokka somehow knows exactly what he means. “But I think it might be for the best. Who wants to remember over thirteen years of abuse anyway?”

Sokka hums. Then, into the odd bubble of apathy they have somehow fallen into, he asks a question he already knows the answer to, “He did it, didn’t he?”

“Kill my mum? Most likely. Burn my face off? Most definitely.”

“Hope he dies slowly and painfully,” Sokka mutters and Zuko snorts.

“One can dream.”

It seems neither of them knows how to continue the conversation after that, so they don’t. Instead, they just sit in it without saying a word, Zuko in his bed and Sokka a few meters away on the futon, and Sokka wonders if Zuko too wishes they were far closer to each other than they currently are.

It’s dawn, judging by the slowly creeping light around him. The fog is so thick he can’t see his own feet under him, even though it barely reaches his waist. The sound of a stick snapping beneath his feet rings out eerily through the tight woods. He’s not sure where he’s going but it’s clear his body has a purpose because it doesn’t hesitate as it carries him through the forest.

Then it stops dead in its tracks. She smiles at him from just up ahead, the mist swirling around her body, making it resemble a gown made just for her. He begs his body to cooperate, keep moving, just a few meters so he can hold her. Just for a second.

“You’re okay,” she tells him softly. “Don’t worry about me.”

I always will.

“I know.”

Please don’t leave me.

“You need to live.”

So did you.

“Sokka.” Her turquoise eyes are soft as they meet his and he hates it.

Please don’t.

“I will always be with you.”

Not close enough.

She smiles at him. “Your life is still worth living.”

How?

“Please continue to be brave for me.”

How!?

The first strokes of sunlight make their way through the trees, and through her. Just like that, she’s gone, and whatever it was that guided his body to walk in that direction starts tugging at him again but how is he supposed to keep on moving now?

“I don’t want to hold you back,” her disembodied voice tells him, “I’ll always be there. Just keep on moving.”

He squeezes his eyes shut, ducking his head. “I’m sorry,” he tells her, as if that would justify the step he takes forward. It doesn’t feel better but his body keeps on moving.

When he opens his eyes again, he’s at a cliff, watching the sunrise.

“Join me?” a raspy voice asks him.

“Of course,” he tells the voice as he sits down at the edge.

A hand takes his as a head rests on his shoulder.

“Sorry for the wait.”

The person on his right hums, as if in thought. “It’s easy to get lost,” he replies after a moment.

“Yeah,” Sokka agrees simply.

Ink falls over their clasped hands, silky and soft.

“Stay with me?” he asks.

Sokka glances back towards the mist and the trees behind him. There she smiles warmly at him, offering a small nod. Slowly he turns back to the sun, taking a breath before he glances at the boy beside him.

“I’d love to.”

His golden eyes sparkle in the morning light, and Sokka thinks that maybe this is exactly where he’s supposed to be.

~

His eyes flutter awake as he shifts. The room is dark but it seems the sun is beginning to rise because there’s a dull light behind the curtains. He glances at the bed – at Zuko – and remembers the thought he just had.

Well, he assumes he’s not quite exactly where he’s supposed to be. But maybe near enough.